“Where is the Level 3?” the wizard said, letting the string float in the magic above the man’s palms.
“He left,” the woman at the bar said. “And good riddance. He’s a hubite, and you are welcome to him as long as you leave us alone.”
“I’ll take her with us.” He pointed at Amaria with his chin.
Quint spelled a double shield and stepped into the room with a swirl of red in his hand, holding a strong wind string. Quint didn’t like the look of the other wizard’s string, so he cast his string. “No, you won’t.”
The wizard, Amaria, and her two guards were pushed into the wall. The wizard went through the window, Amaria was blown out the door, and the two soldiers slammed against the wall.
“Take care of those two,” Quint said.
“Who are you to order me around?” the barkeep said.
“I’m the Level 3,” Quint said.
The woman shrunk and ducked behind the bar as a few patrons dragged the regular soldiers away as Quint ran out the door. He ignored Amaria's groans and cast a weakness spell at the wizard, who fell back, senseless.
Amaria struggled to her feet. A few of the patrons poked their heads through the broken window.
“Tie his wrists to each leg and wrap his hands tightly. He’s dangerous if he gets loose.”
“Why don’t we just kill him? He’s the enemy, isn’t he?”
Quint sighed. “Whatever. He’s yours.”
He helped Amaria mount a horse. Quint took the best mount and rode out of the village toward the capital.
After a few minutes of riding, Amaria stopped and dismounted. “I might have broken something,” Amaria said.
“What did you break?”
“A little bit of my pride,” Amaria said. “I thought I could handle them, but…” She shook her head and went silent.
“It’s hard to think what to use against someone like him,” Quint said. “I’d guess he’s at least a Level 3 and more likely a master. At least he didn’t have the time to cast a shield.”
“We should have taken the third horse,” Amaria said.
Quint shook his head. “If he’s a Master, he could easily extract a mount from someone in the village. If they don’t kill them, the villagers will have their hands full with the three of them as it is. We need to get out of here,” Quint said as he remounted.
They rode for a few hours, stopping at a sleepy village to rest and water their horses. It wasn’t a time for stealth but time to put as many miles between the Gussellian soldiers and them.
It was dawn before they arrived at a large town. Quint and Amaria were exhausted from the night ride, but Quint wasn’t refused a room at a busy inn. He took the bags from the wizard’s horse into the room. Amaria said she would sleep a few hours and acquire more appropriate clothes.
Quint sat on the bed, staring out the little window at the front of the inn, not seeing anything. His life had been a nightmare once he had cast the portent string at the battle. The Gussellian officer’s bag caught Quint’s gaze.
There was a razor, a bar of soap, a tiny towel in an oilskin pouch, a spare tunic, dark green underwear, and a notebook. Quint’s interest level increased as he opened the first page. The wizard had left his book of strings.
Did the Gussellians have different strings than the Racellians? Quint wondered as he tried to make sense of the notes in the willot language. A quick count revealed sixty-seven strings, all diagrammed, including the weaves. The wizard’s work was like Quint’s documentation of his strings.
The notebook was a treasure! He couldn’t wait to show it to Pozella, but Quint wondered if an etiquette was attached to another wizard’s work. Quint wasn’t a big fan of being polite to someone intent on capturing him.
He transferred the book to his bag and slept the morning away.
Amaria knocked on the door just before lunch. She wore an attractive riding outfit. Quint thought she would be considered pretty if her personality wasn’t so abrasive.
“We should be on our way. Bocarre is still a day away, but we can spend tonight in a big village I’ve visited.”
“I’m all for that,” Quint said. “The farther away from the Gussellians, the better.”
They ate lunch at the inn and tackled the road again. No one had seen Gussellian soldiers among the people that Amaria talked to. Quint didn’t engage with anyone after his experience in the pub the night before.
They rode through mainly cultivated land, which didn’t provide hiding spots for Gussellian soldiers to ambush them. They arrived at the village Amaria mentioned before dinner.
While Amaria composed a message to her father with a preliminary report about the battle, Quint found a general store, bought a notebook and a tube of pencils, and began copying the wizard’s book of strings.
It was twilight when she knocked on the door to her room.
“I’ve sent a messenger to the capital. They will be there hours before us,” Amaria said. “You should read this copy to know what I sent. We should have similar stories.”
Quint looked at Amaria before taking the paper and reading the report. Not surprisingly, she led their ‘retreat,’ and Quint’s role was following her like an obedient dog. She did give him credit for enabling the escape from the pub, probably because there were plenty of witnesses.
Amaria’s version was fine with him. Quint wasn’t looking for credit and was glad she hadn’t mentioned his using a portent string to identify the battle's outcome.
“I’ll back this up,” Quint said, “although my recollection differs slightly from what you wrote. I don’t mind if you’re not mentioning my foretelling string. It is better left unsaid, although it was accurate in this case.”
Amaria blushed. “I’m sure you don’t want too much credit.”
