In The Cards Part One
Title: In The Cards
Author: daniomalley22
Characters: Ezra, JD, Nathan, Vin, Chris, Buck, Josiah, Mary
Pairing(s): None
Word Count: 29095
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Violence, implied gore, death of OC's and characters who died in canon.
Summary: The small and peaceful town of Four Corners harbours a sinister secret. Everything depends on seven very different men learning to work together to defend their home and prevent tragedy from striking again. Fantasy AU.
Author's Notes: I have to thank valiha for creating the most fantastic and beautiful art to accompany this story. You can view the art here, more is to come but we have had some timezone difficulties. Even if the fic is not your cup of tea, I recommend looking at the art which is simply gorgeous. Please do let valiha know what a great job she did!
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JD led Nan back into his stall. The big gelding turned his head around and rubbed his nose against JD's shoulder. JD scratched him behind the ears, and the horse blew a gust of warm air into his face.
"Don't mess up my hair," JD chuckled. His grin slowly faded. "I've got to make sure I look my best when I ask old man Creshaw for a half day." JD quickly looked around, making sure no-one had overheard him. He was alone in the stable, so he turned back to Nan and stroked his neck. "Wish me luck, boy," he whispered. "Casey's gonna be at the fair, and I reckon I've got a chance of winning the horse race. The prize is a new saddle! Vin the tanner made it. I saw it yesterday, and it looks real fine." JD stopped patting Nan, and said quietly, "Do you think Casey will be pleased if I win? I've been practicing so hard."
Nan didn't offer any answer to JD's question, but sniffed at his pocket left the stall, still imagining his success, and Casey watching him in awe and admiration.
*******
JD stood in Baron Creshaw's dimly lit study, shuffling his feet.
"Do you know why I keep you on here, boy?"
"No, my Lord." JD focused on the Baron's feet and tried not to show his nervousness.
"It's because you need me, boy, and I am not a man to neglect my obligations."
"Yes, my Lord."
"Out in the real world you will find that a young man such as yourself, uneducated and illegitimate, has few prospects. I have no wish to see you endure privation or destitution, so I have continued to make a place for you in my household. I think you will agree I have been more than generous in the past, have I not? And the terms of our agreement are more than fair, are they not?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"And yet, you seem disatisfied with the situation. The bulk of your debt remains outstanding, but you come seeking... a holiday. Young man, you are, as always, free to resign your position at any time. Of course, should you wish to do so, I would have to demand the balance of your debt. Is that what you want?"
"No! Er, no, my Lord. I'm... I'm very happy."
"Good. Well, if there is nothing else you wanted..."
"No, my Lord, nothing else."
"Well then, perhaps you should head back to the stables. I'm sure there is much that needs to be done."
JD was making a hasty but respectful retreat when he collided with someone in the doorway. The other person gasped and dropped several heavy looking books to the ground. JD groaned, but tried to do it quietly. It was Baron Creshaw's stepson. As though things hadn't been bad already. He crouched down and stacked the books together as quickly as he could, lifting them up and holding them out to the man he had surprised. The young lord glared back at him, not taking the books. JD tried to stammer out an apology, but was interrupted.
"One wonders if it is safe for such a clumsy person to toil in the stables. I do hope Chaser has suffered no ill effects from being under your care."
JD felt his face turn bright red at the insult, but was saved having to answer by the Baron.
"Leave off fretting over your damn horse for a bit, Ezra. You're worse than a girl with a baby doll. Boy! Bring those over here."
JD scuttled across and set the books on the desk.
"If there is nothing else you require of me," said Lord Standish, "I had planned to spend the day in Four Corners." He paused a beat, and, when Baron Creshaw did not say anything, said, "John. Saddle my horse, and prepare to accompany me."
JD was glad for an excuse to leave, and headed quickly back to the stables. Going to Four Corners with Lord Standish, however, was the last thing he wanted to do. Well, he supposed that wasn't really true. There were probably lots of more unpleasant things he could be doing. But it was hard, right now, to think of more than a few.
It wasn't that Lord Standish was particularly unpleasant. He was the Baron's stepson; that didn't help. He never really talked to anyone, and when he did, hardly anyone could understand him. He made JD feel dimwitted and clumsy, just by being near. And, of course, there was the fact that JD had rather hoped to be heading to Four Corners by himself, about now. Instead he would be stuck with Lord Standish, tending his horse and running whatever errands he could think of.
JD fetched Chaser's tack, and let himself into the chestnut gelding's stall. He watched Chaser warily. Most of the stable hands disliked the horse. He wasn't really mean or ill tempered, he was just... playful. And he could certainly be a nuisance if he felt he wasn't getting enough attention. Chaser had taken a liking to JD for some reason, or perhaps simply tolerated him better than others, and JD found himself entrusted with the horse's care most of the time. He got Chaser saddled and bridled with a little coaxing, and left to see to his own horse, Milagro.
JD had had Milagro since he was fourteen and had wanted his own horse more than anything else in the world. He had run errands for the farrier, Tiny, and saved money however he could. His mother had made up the amount he couldn't save and bought him the young horse. That was before... before everything had changed. Before his mother had gotten sick, before he had had to leave childhood behind and take care of her. Before the future had disappeared under the weight of a debt he could probably never repay.
He kept Milagro in the Baron's stables, and the Baron deducted the cost of his keep from JD's wages, as well as board and meals. Most of what was left over made up JD's repayments, for the Baron continuing to house his mother when she was too sick to work, and providing medicine, such as it was. Perhaps he should sell Milagro, but JD found himself unable to part with the horse.
Four Corners was an hour's ride away, and each minute passed in thick and cloying silence. Lord Standish seemed perfectly content gazing at the scenery and occasionally talking to his horse. JD was so relieved when he saw Four Corners not far ahead, he nearly dropped the reins and shouted out loud. Fortunately, he found he had some self restraint when it was needed.
Lord Standish led them to the inn. He dismounted, and JD followed suit, taking Chaser's reins as they were handed to him. "Take Chaser to the livery, and have him taken care of," Lord Standish ordered. "I shall be returning to the estate at five o'clock. Meet me here, and do not be late."
"My Lord?" JD questioned, certain he had missed something.
Lord Standish huffed, sounding annoyed. "I intend to spend the next few hours relaxing in ambient surroundings. I do not require your presence to do this. You are excused; go find something to amuse yourself and come back in time for our return." Without waiting for an answer, Lord Standish turned and walked into the inn. JD stood outside, confused. Lord Standish didn't require him? Why had he asked JD to come, then? So that he could walk Chaser to the livery ten yards away, and ask Tiny's son to put him in a stall? Didn't make sense.
It didn't matter to JD, however, once he realised that he was in Four Corners with nothing to do until five o'clock. He would be able to go to the fair after all.
*********
"You can't go in the race!"
"And why not?"
"'Cos you're a girl!"
"So?"
JD glanced about the open field just out of Four Corners where the fair was being held, trying to think of a reason why Casey couldn't be in the race. This really wasn't meeting his expectations.
"It's too dangerous," he said finally.
"Oh, too dangerous for me, but not for you?" Casey challenged.
"It's too dangerous, isn't it, Mr Watson?" JD appealed to the man who was in charge of signing people up for the race to take place in two hours time. "Casey can't enter."
"Ain't any rules against it, JD," Virgil Watson replied. True, girls generally didn't enter the contests at the fair, not once they reached a certain age, but there were no rules about it written down. And Casey wasn't really an average girl.
"Fine!" JD snapped. He wasn't really sure why he was so angry, so upset about this. He just knew that the day wasn't going the way he'd imagined. He wanted to win, but he didn't want to compete against Casey. She might be angry with him if he beat her. And, if he came second to her... how would it look?
"Just don't expect the rest of us to hold back!"
"JD! You... you can do what you like! I can't imagine why I'd care! And I hope you don't expect me to hold back for you!" Casey turned on her heel and stormed off, her cheeks a bright and angry red.
JD turned the other way, brushing past people without seeing them. "Fine," he muttered to himself. "Fine. She'll see. She'll... and it won't be my fault. No. Tried to tell her... wouldn't listen."
When JD stopped he was by the archery butts. There was a sizeable crowd watching, waiting to see who would come second to Vin the tanner. It was Buck Wilmington's turn. He was holding a longbow nearly as big as he was, and Buck was a tall man. He nocked an arrow and drew the bow, holding it for a few seconds before he released the string. "Ahhh," said the crowd, as the arrow stuck just out of the target's bullseye. Buck drew the bow again, releasing a little quicker this time. "Oooh," murmured the crowd as, this time, the arrow stuck to the other side of the bullseye. Buck nocked his final arrow, studying the target for a moment before lifting the bow. He held his pose for a good ten seconds this time, and JD was sure he didn't breathe at all. When he released the string, the arrow flew as straight as... well, as an arrow, landing directly in the centre of the target. The crowd broke into applause. It was a good result.
Vin the tanner was next. He carried a bow two inches taller than he was, and JD knew for a fact that there was no one else in town who could draw it. Even Josiah, and he was built like an ox.
Vin had three arrows with him. He never used an arrow he hadn't made. He set the arrows on the ground a good ten paces back from the line which marked fifty paces. Had anyone else done that, it would have looked like arrogance, but not Vin.
The crowd was a little larger now, and they watched just as intently, although not with the same air of suspense as they had watched Buck.
Vin drew his first arrow, pausing for a narrow moment before releasing it. It landed in the dead centre of the target. He drew his second immediately, releasing it to have it land to the left of the first arrow. The third arrow joined the other two, landing to the right. There was less than an inch of space separating the three arrows.
The crowd broke into loud applause. Vin ducked his head slightly, and JD was sure he blushed. He tipped his hat, gathered up his bow and his arrows, and left quietly. JD stayed to watch the end of the archery contest. It wasn't as exciting. No-one could match Vin's score, or Buck's. Chris Larabee would have taken third place, but JD thought from the way he squinted in the sunlight and kept fiddling with the fletching on his arrows, that he had already been sampling Inez's famous rum. His third shot missed badly, and he wound up coming sixth. Harry Johnson came third, and Virgil Watson came fourth, amidst enthusiastic applause.
The prizes were awarded, and the crowd dispersed. JD moved on to the ring where the swordplay was to be held. This event drew a different crowd; fewer women and children, more men about JD's age. JD hung back from the group, watching the jostling and joking from a short distance. He had been friends with some of these men once, when they were all boys together and he still had time for the games boys played. When his mother was still alive. After she died and JD had begun working sixteen hours a day to pay off his overwhelming debt, he had lost contact with them, and felt awkward around them.
There were fourteen competitors, and in this contest too, the result was a foregone conclusion, but it was always fun to watch. The contestants were paired up, and it didn't take long to eliminate ten and leave the four who would spar for the highest placings. Buck was one of them; he wasn't as good with a sword as he was with a bow, but not many people in the village had swords, so the competition wasn't usually as fierce. There were two other men, neither of whom JD could name, but the focus now was all on the fourth man.
Nathan had come to the village several years before. He worked in the town as a healer, fixing minor injuries and selling medicines for just about anything. Some of the better off folks in Four Corners wouldn't have anything to do with him, insisted on travelling to visit a doctor two days ride away, but Nathan had a reputation for being very good at what he did. And that didn't just apply to his medicines.
Buck went first, against a lanky man of about twenty five with shoulder length blond hair. JD watched curiously; Buck’s opponent was not someone he recognised, and whenever new people turned up in Four Corners it was always worth taking notice. Buck was defeated fairly quickly, and then it was Nathan's round, against a slightly older man, in his thirties, solidly built with a thick beard. In four swift moves Nathan had disarmed his opponent and had pressed his blade against the man's throat. The crowd clapped appreciatively.
Buck and the bearded man duelled for third and fourth place, with Buck being defeated once more. He didn't appear at all disheartened by the loss, and swept into the crowd to accept consolations from two young women who had been cheering him on. Then it was time for Nathan's bout with the tall man. Lanky surprised everyone by stretching the round out for several minutes. He moved swiftly and easily, and handled his blade well, but eventually he began to tire, Nathan seizing on his slowing pace and knocking the sword from his hand. The crowd applauded wildly, JD joining in. Nathan shook hands with his defeated opponent, and prizes were awarded once more.
Looking around, JD realised he really ought to be getting ready for his own event. He checked on Milagro, who was tethered in a shady spot across the field. JD checked over his tack and polished the leather briefly. He mounted up and rode to the starting line for the race.
The track was not a terribly long one, only around a quarter of a mile. They would circuit it twice. There were hurdles interspersed throughout the track; a fallen tree, a row of barrels, a stack of hay bales and wall of wooden blocks. None of the hurdles were very high, but navigating the course safely and quickly was still a challenge. JD knew that the track would have been painstakingly checked over to ensure that there were no uneven spots or holes. Still, accidents sometimes happened. Feeling suddenly nervous, JD stroked Milagro’s neck, and the horse whickered.
There were over a dozen competitors lining up, all trying to get the better starting positions on the left side where the ground was firmer. JD wound up sort of in the middle, and Milagro showed his displeasure at being crowded with a flick of his tail. Casey got stuck over on the far right, but she wouldn’t return JD’s anxious gaze, keeping her eyes firmly trained on the track ahead of her.
Tiny announced the start of the race with a loud whistle, and the field of horses leaped forward. JD crouched over Milagro’s neck, and the horse surged forward on powerful legs. Milagro’s mane whipped back into JD’s face and he guided the horse with the slightest touch on the reins, waiting for the first fence to come into the view.
It was the wall. It wasn’t high, but it big enough, and once Milagro had cleared it the field had spread out more. There were three horses ahead of them, and JD was neck and neck with two others. He couldn’t see Casey, but he only let himself think about that for a second. They came up to a bend and he had to position Milagro to get around quickly.
By the end of the first lap, JD was in third place and a quick glance behind him showed that Casey was right there, just half a length back. He’d been holding Milagro back just slightly, making him save something for the second lap, but he let the reins out just a little now and Milagro lengthened his stride.
They came to the downhill stretch which led up to the hay bales. JD tried to collect Milagro enough so that he could make the jump rather than crashing into it. Milagro tossed his head in displeasure at being pulled up, and his strides became short and choppy. He made it over the hay bales and JD gave the horse his head again. Milagro thundered along the track, passing one of the other riders and getting closer to the person in front. A flash of movement from the other side cause JD to look over and realise that Casey was level with him. He urged Milagro to run faster.
They came around the last bend and approached the final fence, the fallen log. The first time, Milagro had gone right over the middle of it with ease. Now, though, as they got close, JD could feel Milagro’s strides become short and choppy as he tried to slow down. He urged the horse to keep running, but Milagro took only a few more strides before he pivoted sharply on his hindquarters and sprang to the left. JD, not ready for the abrupt change in direction, sailed out of the saddle and crashed hard into the log. He curled up as he crumpled to the ground, pain coursing through his entire body.
**********
It was one of the potter’s kids who ran to get Nathan. He wasn’t far away, listening to a band play on the other side of the field and eating an early dinner.
The boy led him over to the racetrack, where JD was lying on the ground, clutching one arm to his side. His face was white and covered with a sheen of sweat; his teeth bit into his bottom lip almost to the point of drawing blood.
“What happened?” Nathan asked briskly, not caring who answered. He crouched down at JD’s side and put one hand over his, wondering how he could get JD to let him see the injury.
“Milagro shied and he fell off,” Casey answered. She was standing next to Nathan wringing her hands. “He was going so fast, and he landed on the log.”
Nathan could see that; JD was lying right next to it, with fragments of bark and leaves all over him. JD was conscious but maybe he was in too much pain to say anything; he let Casey explain what had happened without interrupting.
“What hurts, JD?” Nathan asked. JD didn’t answer, only whimpered softly. Then he stiffened, and coughed, and a trickle of saliva tinged red dripped from the corner of his mouth. Nathan hoped that he’d simply bitten the inside of his cheek, and that the blood wasn’t evidence of a more serious internal injury.
Nathan looked around at the small crowd that had gathered around them. “Can some of you help me move him?” he asked. Moving would be painful for JD, but Nathan couldn’t do anything to help him in the middle of a field.
Josiah and Buck came forward and helped to lift JD up, while Nathan held him steady and Casey clutched his hand. JD gripped so tight it must have hurt her, but she didn’t make a sound. It took a long time to carry him from the field to Nathan’s home, and JD bravely held back sounds of pain as they went.
Once they arrived, Nathan thanked Buck and Josiah and tried to subtly usher them out the door. Casey had followed along as well, and didn’t pick up on Nathan’s hints at all. She sat next to JD where he lay on the bed and held his good hand. After a moment’s hesitation, Nathan decided to let her stay. She could help distract JD, and she was so focused on him that Nathan would probably be able to keep her from noticing anything he didn’t want her to see.
Nathan unbuttoned JD’s shirt and examined his chest, where bruising was already coming through in a number of places. Nathan looked on in concern, running his fingertips over the injuries and asking JD to tell him where it hurt. He gathered from JD’s responses that the answer was ‘everywhere’.
Nathan glanced at Casey, who sat with her eyes focused intently on JD, stroking the knuckles of his hand with her thumb. He decided he could risk the next step, and placed a hand on JD’s forehead, pretending to check for head injuries. In reality, he reached for the magic inside him and pulled it forward, directing it at JD. The diagnosis spell was one of the simplest he knew. It told him that JD had a number of broken ribs and two had pierced the lung, that his internal organs were bruised, and that his right shoulder was dislocated.
Nathan pulled out the strongest whiskey he had, and helped JD to drink a few mouthfuls. He grabbed a few twigs from the pile of kindling stacked by the fireplace, and held them in his left hand as he prodded at JD’s ribs again, feeling guilty as he heard JD’s gasp of pain. “I need to make sure the broken ribs haven’t punctured your lungs,” he lied. More blood was lining JD’s lips with every breath. He hadn’t needed the diagnosis spell to confirm the punctured lung. He spread one hand over the broken ribs, and turned his magic that way. The twigs in his hand broke apart and disintegrated, and he brushed the dust off against his pants. Healing the holes in JD’s lung was harder, and took more effort. Nathan felt a wave of exhaustion sweep over him, but steeled himself to continue.
“Now,” he said apologetically, “I need to pop your shoulder back in. It was going to hurt like hell, but it had to be done. He could see that JD already looked a little fuzzy from the alcohol; Nathan had added some of his own ingredients.
Nathan warned JD to keep still and Casey to stay back in case he didn’t. He got JD’s arm positioned and didn’t hesitate, pulling it sharply into place before JD could tense up. JD yelped, pulling away from Nathan’s grip, but he settled quickly as the pain eased and Nathan helped him lie back down.
“That’s it, JD,” Nathan said reassuringly. “You’re done.”
JD sighed with relief and Nathan went to collect the appropriate herbs from the pots growing on his windowsill. He bundled them into a handkerchief and returned to the bedside, pressing the bundle to the centre of JD’s chest. “It’ll be a few days before you’re completely healed,” he added. “You won’t be able to work tomorrow.”
“I have to work tomorrow!” JD protested. “The baron’s not going to let me take a day off.”
Nathan pushed JD back onto the bed gently. “He’s going to have to,” he explained, putting his hand to the bundled up herbs and pushing at them with his mind. “You’re not going to be up to it.” He waited for the bruising on JD’s internal organs to be absorbed into the herbs. “I’ll speak to him, if you think I’ll need to.” He kind of hoped JD wouldn’t take him up on that offer. Nathan had never really had much to do with the baron, and he liked it that way.
“Are you sure?” JD asked. “I don’t really hurt at all anymore.” He turned his head on the pillow. “Although, I do feel pretty tired suddenly.”
“That’s your body’s way of telling you to take some time off,” Nathan said helpfully. It was also JD’s body’s reaction to having all his available energy directed into healing extensive injuries, but JD didn’t need to know that. “You can sleep here tonight.”
JD shook his head again, but more slowly this time. His eyes were already drifting closed.
“I came out here with Lord Standish, I’m supposed to ride back with him.”
“I’ll take care of it JD, you just sleep.”
JD’s eyes closed and his breath deepened. Nathan looked from his sleeping patient to Casey sitting next to him, and after a moment she looked away from JD and met his gaze.
“Is he really going to be alright?” she asked.
“Yeah, Casey, he really is,” Nathan promised. “It was just a dislocated shoulder. He’ll be fine in a couple of days,” he lied.
Casey nodded but her expression didn’t lighten. Nathan guessed that something else was bothering her and waited patiently.
“It was the race,” she said suddenly.
“I saw.”
“I didn’t even see him fall. He was right behind me, and then suddenly he wasn’t any more, and I thought, good! That’ll show him if I win. I was angry with him.” She looked miserable and her eyes appeared threateningly damp.
“It’s not your fault,” Nathan said. “Accidents happen. It probably happened so fast you didn’t even have time to realise anything was wrong. There’s nothing you could have done to stop it.”
Casey nodded and seemed a little more at ease, so Nathan added quickly, “Do you think you could stay with him while I go find Standish?”
**************
The Four Corners inn was not exactly the sort of environment where Ezra would normally spend time by choice. It was small and dark, draughty and smoky. The food and drink it served were passable but far from what Ezra was accustomed to. All in all, it had few advantages, but the most significant of those was that it was far from Baron Creshaw's eyes. He would never come into a place like this for the sake of spying on Ezra. That was why it was the perfect location for Ezra to do the research he didn't dare do back on the estate.
The townsfolk left him alone for the most part and didn't show much curiosity about what he was reading. Ezra figured most of them didn't know how to read, and wasn't too careful about concealing his books for fear that seeming too protective of them might arouse more suspicions than he could deflect. He looked down at the pages of Davendithas the Scholar’s On the Ethics of Blood Magics which he’d been combing through for several hours. He sighed and forced himself to read another paragraph.
‘The potency of a spell can be increased through the use of blood or flesh in the place of other components, because of the concentration of life force,’ Ezra read. ‘A responsible mage uses their own or an animal’s blood, in small quantities, and this alone is sufficient to give a significant increase to a spell’s power, if such cannot be achieved by other means. Some mages, regrettably, have been known to reject this method and take, by trickery or force, the required components of their spellmaking from the people around them, even, in some cases, mortally wounding their victim in the pursuit. A few such mages have stated a belief that such moral compromises did, in themselves, grant greater strength to the resulting magic, but no compelling evidence exists that these claims are true.’
Ezra slammed the cover of the book closed in disgust. Four hours, he’d been sitting here reading, and learned nothing he didn’t already know. He’d suspected for months now that his stepfather was hiding something. It had taken weeks of careful observation to lead him to the conclusion that Creshaw was a mage; a fact which, for some reason, the man kept secret. It hadn’t taken long after that for him to surmise that whatever magic his stepfather was crafting in the locked rooms of his manor, where he allowed only himself and his most trusted servants, it was nothing that Davendithas would approve of.
Ezra had undergone a few years of mage training himself. He’d never managed to finish it, thanks to one of Maude's ill timed schemes, but he was still the most qualified person within hundreds of miles to do anything about Creshaw. If only he could figure out what that should be.
He hadn't suspected anything at first. He'd come to the baron's estate disgruntled, resigned to months of living in a provincial setting far removed from anything resembling civilisation. He'd been moderately pleasant to the man, because it paid to cultivate cordial relationships with people in power, but he'd really just been marking time until Maude tired of the marriage and he had an excuse to leave. Instead, he'd started to notice odd things about the house and grounds. The manor was decorated with items which, individually were insignificant but in combination made Ezra suspicious. There were places in the grounds where herbs could be found growing - not herbs which could be used for cooking, but ones which had other uses. And although he could tell that someone was cultivating those herb gardens, he’d never seen anyone tend them. They grew in pockets, behind trees and between bushes, as though someone was trying to conceal them.
And then there were the stories. One mysterious death could be explained away. Even two. But Ezra had heard about at least four, all of which had some explanation behind them which he found lacking in some detail or other.
Ezra might not have connected these observations to Creshaw, except for the subtle oddities that existed in his house. The wing that was forbidden to nearly everyone - that on its own Ezra might have overlooked. The odd stains that he sometimes noticed on Creshaw’s fingers and clothes, that he never really managed to explain away - that too didn’t seem like much by itself. It wasn’t until Ezra spied his stepfather one day, taking scraps of raw meat from the kitchen, that he really started to think something was going on. It didn’t make sense. What use could a Baron have for raw meat? And if he did need it for something, why not just order a servant to bring him some, rather than fetching it himself? Ezra had not failed to notice that Creshaw had entered the kitchen at one of the rare moments when it was empty, save for Ezra himself who had been well concealed in the hope of overhearing useful gossip.
When Maude had grown tired of being married, Ezra had made some excuse to remain behind, glad that the work he'd done ingratiating himself had led Creshaw to allow it. Ever since then, he'd tried to figure out what the Baron was up to, and when he had the privacy he went through every book on magic he had, looking for a way to stop him. He was getting closer, but it was a slow process.
Ezra was ready to give up on his pursuit for the day. His head was swimming after hours of reading and it was getting close to five o’clock. He didn’t want to chance JD seeing what he’d been reading. He stuffed his book into his bag, where it was out of sight, and was doubly glad that he had done so when he saw who had entered the inn. It wasn’t JD, who he was expecting to arrive at any minute. It was Baron Creshaw.
“My Lord,” said Ezra, trying to conceal his surprise. “What brings you here?”
The Baron smiled at him. It wasn’t a nice smile exactly; Creshaw didn’t really do nice. “Why, I thought your idea to venture out into the township to be quite a good one, so I came out to meet you.”
“Oh,” said Ezra. “Well. That’s wonderful.” He didn’t believe it for a second. Creshaw didn’t come to Four Corners. He didn’t leave his home just to take in the scenery or socialise. He was up to something. “I was just about to start on my way back, actually,” he said, hoping that JD would appear and give him an excuse to leave.
“Well then,” said Creshaw, “The stableboy must be only a minute away, hmm? Let us wait for him outside.” He led the way outside with an odd eagerness, and Ezra followed as a bad feeling began to grow within him.
They stood outside the inn for several minutes with no sign of JD, and Ezra started to become annoyed. It had been an impulsive kindness of his to have JD come with him into town and leave him unoccupied for the afternoon. He had thought that JD would repay the favour by returning promptly as he had instructed. Clearly that had been a mistake. It was a shame that the Baron was here as well to witness his dereliction, but Ezra knew that was really JD’s fault, not his.
“Oh dear,” Creshaw murmured when ten minutes had passed. “The boy is quite late, isn’t he? I don’t suppose he imagines you will tolerate tardiness, Ezra, that’s no way to command respect from the servants.”
Ezra grit his teeth and bit back a scathing reply, relieved when he was saved from having to think of an answer when they were approached by one of the townspeople.
Ezra recognised him, and after a second put a name to the face. Nathan. He was a healer, supposedly a good one. And seeing him actually came as a relief to Ezra, because he was likely seeking them out because of JD, and if something had happened to JD which involved Nathan it probably meant he was hurt, which mean neither JD nor Ezra could be considered at fault for his lateness.
“My Lord. Uh, Lords. I was hoping to find you.”
“And why is that, uh...” Creshaw trailed off.
“Nathan. It’s about JD. He had a nasty fall from his horse this afternoon. He’s not too badly hurt, luckily, but he’s not fit to ride home tonight or work tomorrow. I thought you’d want to know.”
“Oh dear,” said Creshaw. “Where is the poor boy? And are you sure he’s not badly injured?”
“He’s at my house,” said Nathan. “I tend a lot of sick folk there.”
“Of course you do. Would you show me the way? I won’t be able to set my mind at ease until I’ve laid eyes on the boy myself.”
“Well, of course. It’s this way.” Nathan led the Baron towards his home, and Ezra trailed after them, not entirely believing what he was seeing. There was no way Creshaw’s concern could be real. He’d never shown such concern for anyone, not that Ezra had seen. He didn’t sound sincere, and Ezra noticed he still wasn’t referring to JD by name. And it certainly was a coincidence that he’d just happened to show up in Four Corners, only minutes before Nathan had come seeking them out.
Nathan lived in a small house just off the main street. He opened the door and held it as the Baron peered inside, and then stepped through, taking exaggerated care not to let his clothing touch the doorframe or floor.
Ezra stepped into the house with some trepidation. It was cramped inside, with a bench along one wall and a kitchen table taking up the middle of the room. Dried herbs were strewn everywhere, and a variety of bottles and jars were scattered around, some full, some empty, some labelled and others not. There was no order to it that Ezra could see. A large fireplace sat by the back wall, the fire in it reduced to coals. In the corner next to it a small bed rested, and upon it lay JD. A young girl who Ezra recognised but couldn't name sat by his side, holding his hand. She came to her feet and curtsied when she noticed Ezra and Baron Creshaw, and the movement woke JD from his doze.
"Huh?" he said groggily, and then, “M’Lord!” He blinked and yawned hugely, seeming to come slightly more awake after that and struggling to sit up. "Oh shit. I mean... sorry. I'm late. I've gotta go, Nathan." He tried to push the blankets back, but one hand was bound to his chest in a sling, and the other flopped against the covers uselessly, as though JD had forgotten what his fingers were for.
"You stay in bed," Nathan ordered, but JD didn't listen and Ezra guessed that the Baron’s sudden appearance had caused JD some great consternation.
"Stay there, JD, and take your rest," he said firmly. "Nathan has explained to us about your accident, and we realise you're not fit for duty right now." He gazed firmly at Creshaw as he spoke, hoping that the other man would not contradict him, but the Baron was gazing down at JD with a slight frown on his face and didn’t seem to be listening at all.
"Baron Creshaw," JD mumbled, showing real fear even as exhaustion dragged his eyelids down.
That seemed to startle Creshaw into paying attention, and he said soothingly, “Don’t be troubled JD. Of course you may have a day to recover. It’s the least I can do for such a loyal servant.”
JD was reassured and lay back on the bed, his eyes already drifting shut. Creshaw didn’t move from his side, examining JD with narrowed eyes.
“The lad seems quite worn out,” he said abruptly. “What exactly are his injuries?” His manner was suddenly much more businesslike and abrupt, and Nathan straightened as he replied.
“He’s got some cracked ribs, and he dislocated his shoulder,” Nathan said. “That’s why the arm is in a sling. He’ll need to keep it on for a few days. Apart from that, just a few bumps and bruises.”
“I see,” said the Baron. “How very fortunate that you were available to offer such competent care.” He looked back to JD.
“What happened, exactly?” Ezra asked, when it became clear that Creshaw wasn’t going to. Nathan shrugged, and then the girl spoke up.
“His horse shied,” she said. “I don’t know what at. Milagro never spooks like that! JD went flying into the fallen log on the racetrack.”
“My word,” said Creshaw. “He was very lucky not to be much more badly hurt.”
“I was so afraid,” the girl added. “At first, I thought he must be dead. He seemed so badly hurt.”
“Oh, now, Casey, you know it wasn’t nearly as bad as it looked,” Nathan said quickly, and Casey nodded.
“You are owed some of the credit for that, I’m sure, young man,” Creshaw insisted.
The words were a compliment, but the tone wasn’t right, too sharp, too demanding to be simple praise. Nathan nevertheless gave a nod and said, “Thank you,” but the tension in his frame betrayed that he knew there was more to the Baron’s words. For a moment, the two of them froze as Ezra and Casey watched on, both aware that the other had some secret agenda and not able to uncover it without revealing their own. At last, Creshaw turned away and Ezra sighed with relief.
Creshaw bid them a good night and left the house. Ezra paused for a moment before following, wanting to talk to Nathan. He wanted to ask what JD’s injuries had actually been, and what he’d done about them, because clearly there was more happening there than he had let on. But he couldn’t keep the Baron waiting, and Nathan had no reason to share his secrets with Ezra in any case. Ezra reluctantly gave his own farewells and followed Creshaw outside.
**************
The next morning, Ezra invented another excuse and rode back into Four Corners, meaning to talk to the townspeople and see if they could tell him anything useful, since his reading was proving fruitless. He reached the outskirts of town and met Josiah, riding down the path which led from his own home to the main road.
Ezra had spoken with Josiah a few times before. He was someone, Ezra believed, who had seen and done a lot and had many stories to tell, although he usually didn’t. He hadn’t always lived in Four Corners, had only been there for a few years. He didn’t really talk about where he’d come from; hardly ever talked about himself at all. Ezra still thought it would be worthwhile asking him what he knew about Baron Creshaw’s activities. He was an educated man and from some of their conversations, Ezra guessed that he knew a little more about magic than the average person.
“Josiah,” he said, pulling Chaser alongside him. “A pleasant morning to you.”
“And to you as well, Lord Standish,” Josiah replied. “I heard about JD’s accident. I hope he’s not badly hurt?”
“Oh, no. He’ll be fine in a day or two, thanks to Nathan.” Because Ezra was watching for it, he saw the twitch in Josiah’s expression. So he knew something about Nathan. Ezra wondered if he could get Josiah to shed some light on the little scene yesterday between the healer and Baron Creshaw, if he dared to bring it up. “It was most unfortunate for the poor boy, though.”
Josiah nodded his head. “That JD’s been through some trials,” he said sadly. “I hope his Lordship won’t hold this against him.” He looked sideways at Ezra.
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t,” Ezra said quickly. “I’ve heard that he’s worked for Baron Creshaw for a long time, and his mother as well?” He let the sentence trail off leadingly, encouraging Josiah to add what he knew.
“She did,” he confirmed. “Ever since JD was just a wee thing, up until she got sick.”
“Such a shame,” Ezra agreed, ducking low on Chaser’s neck to avoid a low hanging branch. “Was she a sickly woman?”
“Oh, not at all. The doctors didn’t know what to make of it.”
“Doctors? It wasn’t Nathan who tended her?”
“Oh, no, this was before he came to Four Corners. And not long after I did, truth be told.” Josiah turned his own horse to avoid a boggy part of the track, and Ezra followed his lead. “The Baron sent for a doctor from Ridge City. He came and visited her a few times, did what he could.”
“Hmm.” Ezra thought that over. He’d known about JD’s mother’s illness, but nothing about the medical attention she’d received. “And they had no idea what was wrong with her?”
“None at all.”
“Did no one else in Four Corners have any similar illness?” he asked, trying not to push too hard. It wouldn’t do for Josiah to become suspicious now.
“Not that I can recall,” Josiah said thoughtfully.
“Because I’ve heard that Vin the tanners’ mother took sick as well...”
“That was years ago,” Josiah interrupted, frowning. “I don’t follow... you think there’s some connection between the two?”
“Oh, no, definitely not!” Ezra backtracked hastily. “I was just, uh, following a train of thought. But of course, there’s no reason to think... well...” He really had messed this up. Josiah was openly staring at him now, his gaze intense. They had come to the first houses in Four Corners, and Josiah drew his horse to a halt
“I’m headed this way,” Josiah said, nodding to the left. “Take care, my Lord.”
“And you as well,” Ezra answered quickly. He nudged Chaucer on through the town
The other person he particularly wanted to see was Mary Travis, whose father in law was the mayor. She’d married his son, Stephen, when they were both young, and they’d had a son together. Stephen’s death had happened less than a year ago, not too long after Ezra had come to Four Corners, and so he’d heard some of the gossip about it.
Mary lived with her in-laws in a nice house in the middle of town. Ezra paused outside and wondered how to open a conversation with the young widow. They’d had little to do with one another previously, and Ezra didn’t want to alarm her by asking too many questions that brought up her husband’s death.
The front door of the house opened a crack as Ezra sat there, and a young blond boy stepped out, holding a jug of water. He walked across the porch but stopped when he saw Ezra and stood there, blinking at him, his knuckles tightening to white on the handle of the jug.
“Good day to you, Master Travis,” Ezra said, keeping his voice soft and trying not to alarm the clearly startled boy. Billy blinked at him, and after a moment’s hesitation, finally climbed down the porch steps, still not taking his eyes off Ezra.
Ezra dismounted and stroked Chaser’s neck as he gathered the reins. “Are you planning to water the garden?” he asked, nodding to the jug of water. Billy nodded and began watering the roses in the flowerbeds. He went about the task with a deep concentration, and Ezra looked over the garden with a critical eye.
The front door opened again, and Mary Travis stepped onto the porch. “Are you finished yet, Billy?” she asked, and then she caught sight of Ezra. She looked at him and Ezra returned her gaze with his friendliest smile.
“Good morning, Mrs Travis,” he said. Mary didn’t smile back.
“What brings you here, my Lord?” she asked. Her manner was guarded and Ezra spread his hands.
“It happens that I have a need to speak with you, Mrs Travis,” he said politely, but Mary was unmoved.
“What about?” she asked, frowning.
It didn’t suit Ezra to be too blunt, but he thought that being honest might ease some of her suspicions. “If it would suit you, I’d like to ask you some questions about your husband.”
Mary didn’t respond for a second or two. Then she said, “Billy, go inside now, please,” and Billy went back to the house, passing his mother as she descended the steps. As he was behind her, Mary didn’t notice that Billy didn’t go inside but stopped at the door, looking back at the two of them. “Is that what you were talking to Billy about?” she asked, her tone becoming much cooler, and it had been quite chilly to begin with.
“I promise you, I didn’t mention it until you emerged,” Ezra said sincerely. “Why would I ask Billy?” Mary’s expression flickered, and Ezra knew there was something she was trying to hide. “Was he there when it happened?” he asked, realising that he was correct when Mary stiffened.
“If you will excuse me, my Lord, we have a great deal to do and little time for idle chatter.” She started to turn away and Ezra frantically called after her.
“I want only to help, you have my word,” he said. “If you would allow me to talk to Billy - you would be present, of course, and I wouldn’t...”
“He doesn’t talk about it!” Mary interrupted.
“I would do all I could to avoid upsetting him...”
“You don’t understand, my Lord.” Mary spoke firmly and Ezra’s protests died on his lips. “Ever since it happened, Billy doesn’t talk at all.” Without sparing him a second glance, she turned back to the house and ushered Billy inside. Ezra watched thoughtfully, but didn’t try to say anything else.
************
The conversation with Lord Standish had left Josiah in a thoughtful mood. He’d mused over it all day, trying to figure out what he’d been getting at.
He’d long suspected that the illness suffered by JD’s mother had not been entirely natural. It was interesting that Standish had come to the same conclusion. It had never occurred to Josiah to connect her illness to Vin’s mother, though. He’d never met her; she’d died years before he set foot in Four Corners. But if Standish thought there was some sort of link... maybe there was. Knowing that someone else had reached the same conclusion made Josiah give his own suspicions far more weight.
The problem was he still wasn’t sure he could trust Standish. He was too close to the Baron, too close for Josiah to be certain they weren’t cooking up some plot between them. So he’d brushed Standish’s questions off and played dumb, but he knew exactly what the younger man had been talking about.
When morning came around, Josiah decided to engage in a little questioning himself. He knew what he was looking for as well as Standish seemed to, and he wouldn’t mess it up by playing things too close to the chest. He knew the people in Four Corners who could be trusted with a secret.
He left his house as soon as there was light to ride by. He rode straight through the village to the other side, leaving his horse at a hitching post at the side of the street and going to the house which was his destination. He rapped on the door and heard curses from inside, something along the lines of it being too early for decent people. He waited patiently. At last, the door opened a crack.
“Morning, Buck,” he said. “Can I have a few minutes of your time?”
Once Josiah was settled comfortable inside and a few subtle hints had secured him a cup of coffee, he said, “Buck, there are some things I want to ask you about. But I need to know you’re going to keep this between us, understand? It’s not something the rest of the town needs to be hearing about.”
“Josiah, you know I would take a secret to my grave if you asked it of me,” said Buck, leaning forward over his own mug.
“Right,” said Josiah. Buck wasn’t exactly known for his discretion, but Josiah believed him. He wouldn’t betray a confidence, not for anything. “Because what I want to ask you about, it’s pretty serious. And it’s got to do with Baron Creshaw.”
Buck’s face became much more serious at that. If the subject of this discussion got spread around and word got back to the Baron, it could be bad news for both of them.
“I hear you, Josiah, and you know I’m not one for gossip.”
That was a blatant lie, but Josiah was satisfied that Buck could keep this one thing to himself.
“I know your friend Chris used to have dealings with him, and Sarah worked for him for a little while,” he said. Buck nodded. “I’d just ask Chris, but, well...” Buck nodded again, and Josiah didn’t bother to finish that sentence. “So I wanted to ask you if you knew of anything, anything about the Baron that was... odd.”
“Odd like how?”
“Well, for example... did he have any rules in his household that seemed... strange?”
“Hm. Couldn’t really say,” Buck answered. “Oh, except he never lets his servants wear brass. Not that most of them can afford it, but still. And the same for his horses... none of the tack uses brass, even the fancy stuff.”
Josiah nodded. That was an interesting detail. It didn’t confirm his suspicions, but it was a clue.
“Do you know of anything strange happening on the Baron’s estate?”
“Strange?” said Buck.
“Yeah, something like... well...” Josiah hesitated, and then took the plunge. “People going missing mysteriously. Or dying unexpectedly.”
Buck gave him a hard look, and Josiah was annoyed with himself for pushing too hard, too soon. “Now, you look here, Josiah. I don’t know what your game is, but if you’re going to come poking around here, getting all nosy about the past, I’m not going to stand for it.”
Josiah hadn’t wanted to reveal quite so much, but he’d upset Buck and he felt obliged to explain why.
“I’ve got a suspicion that the Baron is using magic,” he explained. “Using magic, and not for anything good.” Buck didn’t move, but Josiah could see he was listening. “If he’s trying to gather power enough for some huge spell, and wants to cast it without risking his own health, he might do so by... by taking other people. Taking their lives, using their life energy to power his spells. And in the past few years, I know there have been a few people go missing, and a few more that died when there didn’t seem any real reason for them to, but the first that come to mind are...”
“Sarah and Adam,” Buck breathed, and Josiah nodded confirmation.
It took a minute for Buck to collect himself, but eventually he shook his head. “I think you’re barking up the wrong tree, Josiah,” he said. “I’m not saying you’re wrong about the Baron, but Sarah and Adam were just an accident. An accident, okay?”
He said that last quite forcefully, and Josiah replied, “Okay, Buck. That’s fine, it was an accident,” as consolingly as he could.
“The Baron didn’t have nothing to do with them. We don’t know what happened, but it wasn’t that.”
Josiah was torn between backing down and pushing on. He could tell Buck was upset, but he needed to get to the bottom of this. “If you don’t know what happened, Buck, then how can you rule it out?”
“I just can!” Buck snapped. Josiah sensed that he was close to an answer, and he waited. Finally, Buck relented. “I’ll tell you what I know, Josiah, but you need to keep it between us. I shouldn’t even be telling you... it’s not my story to share, it’s Chris’s. He’d be furious if he knew I was even thinking of telling you this.”
“It’s okay, Buck, I know you want to look out for Chris. I won’t go sharing his business with everyone. You know I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”
“Yeah, I got that.” Buck took a deep breath. “You know he was home that night?”
“I wasn’t sure,” Josiah answered. He’d heard a few different versions of the story, but they were all vague, and all managed to be completely different even so.
“He’d got up to check on a sick horse,” Buck explained. “He was out in the barn, and he must have sat down to watch the horses for a while, because he fell asleep. Not sure for how long, but when he came out, the house was on fire.”
Josiah nodded. The fire, that part he knew. The house had never been rebuilt; the burned ruins of it still stood on Chris’s land.
“It was all ablaze, and he tried to get in, to get Sarah and Adam, but it was too far gone. He tried to put it out, but one person can’t douse a fire that big. It was hopeless.” Buck looked down at his hands, and Josiah felt guilty for unearthing the bad memories.
“It went up so fast, we knew it had to have been deliberately lit. We looked all over, but we couldn’t find any tracks, any sign of someone having been there that shouldn’t have.”
Josiah frowned. “I’m sorry, Buck,” he said. “I’m sure that was a terrible thing to go through.” Buck nodded confirmation, but he didn’t seem too overcome so Josiah decided to ask another question. “I’m a bit confused, though. If you think someone lit the fire on purpose, and you couldn’t find any sign that that person was physically there, then why are you so sure it wasn’t someone using magic? Like Baron Creshaw?”
Buck gave Josiah a look that could have melted glass. “You leave it, Josiah. There’s no need for you to go poking around into this.”
“I don’t understand!” Josiah protested. “It’s the logical answer. There’s something you’re not telling me.”
“And I’m not going to, so back off!”
“Buck.” Josiah raised his hands, palms out. “I don’t know what it is you don’t want to tell me, but I can promise you, whatever it is... I won’t judge you for it, and I won’t tell anyone. I need to understand what’s going on, because we could be in danger, if I’m right. And I can’t do that without your help.”
Buck glared at him, but Josiah didn’t back down. At last, he sighed and looked down. “Hell,” he said. “Chris’ll murder me if he finds out I told you this. You let it on to anyone, Josiah, and you’re digging my grave, get it?” Josiah nodded, and he went on. “Reason we know it weren’t the Baron killed Sarah and Adam is... well. We think it was Chris.”
“You think...” It took a minute for Josiah to work that through in his mind.
“He never meant it!” Buck added quickly. “Chris, he’d have killed himself before he let anything happen to them. It’s why he’s... well, how he is. But we found out, afterwards, that... Chris has an ability.”
“An ability?”
“Yeah.” Buck glanced up at Josiah, checking his reaction. “I don’t get the right term for it, that’s mage stuff. I stay out of it. But Chris, he can start fires. Not with flint or nothing. He can just... start them, with his mind.”
“He can start fires?”
“First time it happened was just after the funeral. We went looking again, for any sign that would help us figure out what happened. Chris got real frustrated, and then... this tree just caught fire. He was looking at it, and he was pissed as hell, and then it just... went up in flames. Damn lucky the whole forest didn’t go up.”
Josiah gaped a little, but quickly got himself under control. “You’re sure it was Chris?”
“Yeah,” Buck answered quickly. “We’re sure. It’s happened again, since then. Whenever he gets real mad, or if he drinks too much, which is sort of a problem...”
Josiah nodded. He could imagine it would be.
“Sometimes, when he dreams about them, too. He don’t sleep too deep these days.”
Josiah thought about what Buck had said. It was unusual, but not impossible for Chris to have the abilities Buck claimed. But he thought they might have come to the wrong conclusion about what it meant.
“When a magic ability shows up like this, late in life when the person didn’t have it before,” he explained, “It’s usually because a latent magic talent has been awakened somehow.”
“Yeah?” Buck said.
“But usually, the ability comes about in response to a terrible trauma or loss.”
“What do you mean?”
“Buck, I think it’s likely that this fire ability Chris has came about as a result of Sarah and Adam’s deaths. I don’t think he caused that fire. I think the fire-starting is a result of his grief,” Josiah explained patiently.
Buck took a minute to digest that. “You’re saying that you don’t think Chris killed Sarah and Adam at all?”
“No, I don’t think he did.”
“Then how come we couldn’t find the person who did do it?”
“Probably because they used magic to cover their tracks. Put Chris under a spell to send him to sleep, did whatever they came to do or got what they were looking for, and lit the fire to hide the evidence.” Josiah looked around, even though they were safely hidden in the privacy of Buck’s house, and lowered his voice. “I think it is Baron Creshaw who killed them. It would have been simple enough for him to do, if he were a powerful enough mage.”
Buck mused over that, and said, “How do you know so much about magic, Josiah? You ain’t a mage.”
Josiah hesitated, but Buck’s honesty deserved the same in return. “I used to be.”
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Author: daniomalley22
Characters: Ezra, JD, Nathan, Vin, Chris, Buck, Josiah, Mary
Pairing(s): None
Word Count: 29095
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Violence, implied gore, death of OC's and characters who died in canon.
Summary: The small and peaceful town of Four Corners harbours a sinister secret. Everything depends on seven very different men learning to work together to defend their home and prevent tragedy from striking again. Fantasy AU.
Author's Notes: I have to thank valiha for creating the most fantastic and beautiful art to accompany this story. You can view the art here, more is to come but we have had some timezone difficulties. Even if the fic is not your cup of tea, I recommend looking at the art which is simply gorgeous. Please do let valiha know what a great job she did!
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JD led Nan back into his stall. The big gelding turned his head around and rubbed his nose against JD's shoulder. JD scratched him behind the ears, and the horse blew a gust of warm air into his face.
"Don't mess up my hair," JD chuckled. His grin slowly faded. "I've got to make sure I look my best when I ask old man Creshaw for a half day." JD quickly looked around, making sure no-one had overheard him. He was alone in the stable, so he turned back to Nan and stroked his neck. "Wish me luck, boy," he whispered. "Casey's gonna be at the fair, and I reckon I've got a chance of winning the horse race. The prize is a new saddle! Vin the tanner made it. I saw it yesterday, and it looks real fine." JD stopped patting Nan, and said quietly, "Do you think Casey will be pleased if I win? I've been practicing so hard."
Nan didn't offer any answer to JD's question, but sniffed at his pocket left the stall, still imagining his success, and Casey watching him in awe and admiration.
*******
JD stood in Baron Creshaw's dimly lit study, shuffling his feet.
"Do you know why I keep you on here, boy?"
"No, my Lord." JD focused on the Baron's feet and tried not to show his nervousness.
"It's because you need me, boy, and I am not a man to neglect my obligations."
"Yes, my Lord."
"Out in the real world you will find that a young man such as yourself, uneducated and illegitimate, has few prospects. I have no wish to see you endure privation or destitution, so I have continued to make a place for you in my household. I think you will agree I have been more than generous in the past, have I not? And the terms of our agreement are more than fair, are they not?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"And yet, you seem disatisfied with the situation. The bulk of your debt remains outstanding, but you come seeking... a holiday. Young man, you are, as always, free to resign your position at any time. Of course, should you wish to do so, I would have to demand the balance of your debt. Is that what you want?"
"No! Er, no, my Lord. I'm... I'm very happy."
"Good. Well, if there is nothing else you wanted..."
"No, my Lord, nothing else."
"Well then, perhaps you should head back to the stables. I'm sure there is much that needs to be done."
JD was making a hasty but respectful retreat when he collided with someone in the doorway. The other person gasped and dropped several heavy looking books to the ground. JD groaned, but tried to do it quietly. It was Baron Creshaw's stepson. As though things hadn't been bad already. He crouched down and stacked the books together as quickly as he could, lifting them up and holding them out to the man he had surprised. The young lord glared back at him, not taking the books. JD tried to stammer out an apology, but was interrupted.
"One wonders if it is safe for such a clumsy person to toil in the stables. I do hope Chaser has suffered no ill effects from being under your care."
JD felt his face turn bright red at the insult, but was saved having to answer by the Baron.
"Leave off fretting over your damn horse for a bit, Ezra. You're worse than a girl with a baby doll. Boy! Bring those over here."
JD scuttled across and set the books on the desk.
"If there is nothing else you require of me," said Lord Standish, "I had planned to spend the day in Four Corners." He paused a beat, and, when Baron Creshaw did not say anything, said, "John. Saddle my horse, and prepare to accompany me."
JD was glad for an excuse to leave, and headed quickly back to the stables. Going to Four Corners with Lord Standish, however, was the last thing he wanted to do. Well, he supposed that wasn't really true. There were probably lots of more unpleasant things he could be doing. But it was hard, right now, to think of more than a few.
It wasn't that Lord Standish was particularly unpleasant. He was the Baron's stepson; that didn't help. He never really talked to anyone, and when he did, hardly anyone could understand him. He made JD feel dimwitted and clumsy, just by being near. And, of course, there was the fact that JD had rather hoped to be heading to Four Corners by himself, about now. Instead he would be stuck with Lord Standish, tending his horse and running whatever errands he could think of.
JD fetched Chaser's tack, and let himself into the chestnut gelding's stall. He watched Chaser warily. Most of the stable hands disliked the horse. He wasn't really mean or ill tempered, he was just... playful. And he could certainly be a nuisance if he felt he wasn't getting enough attention. Chaser had taken a liking to JD for some reason, or perhaps simply tolerated him better than others, and JD found himself entrusted with the horse's care most of the time. He got Chaser saddled and bridled with a little coaxing, and left to see to his own horse, Milagro.
JD had had Milagro since he was fourteen and had wanted his own horse more than anything else in the world. He had run errands for the farrier, Tiny, and saved money however he could. His mother had made up the amount he couldn't save and bought him the young horse. That was before... before everything had changed. Before his mother had gotten sick, before he had had to leave childhood behind and take care of her. Before the future had disappeared under the weight of a debt he could probably never repay.
He kept Milagro in the Baron's stables, and the Baron deducted the cost of his keep from JD's wages, as well as board and meals. Most of what was left over made up JD's repayments, for the Baron continuing to house his mother when she was too sick to work, and providing medicine, such as it was. Perhaps he should sell Milagro, but JD found himself unable to part with the horse.
Four Corners was an hour's ride away, and each minute passed in thick and cloying silence. Lord Standish seemed perfectly content gazing at the scenery and occasionally talking to his horse. JD was so relieved when he saw Four Corners not far ahead, he nearly dropped the reins and shouted out loud. Fortunately, he found he had some self restraint when it was needed.
Lord Standish led them to the inn. He dismounted, and JD followed suit, taking Chaser's reins as they were handed to him. "Take Chaser to the livery, and have him taken care of," Lord Standish ordered. "I shall be returning to the estate at five o'clock. Meet me here, and do not be late."
"My Lord?" JD questioned, certain he had missed something.
Lord Standish huffed, sounding annoyed. "I intend to spend the next few hours relaxing in ambient surroundings. I do not require your presence to do this. You are excused; go find something to amuse yourself and come back in time for our return." Without waiting for an answer, Lord Standish turned and walked into the inn. JD stood outside, confused. Lord Standish didn't require him? Why had he asked JD to come, then? So that he could walk Chaser to the livery ten yards away, and ask Tiny's son to put him in a stall? Didn't make sense.
It didn't matter to JD, however, once he realised that he was in Four Corners with nothing to do until five o'clock. He would be able to go to the fair after all.
*********
"You can't go in the race!"
"And why not?"
"'Cos you're a girl!"
"So?"
JD glanced about the open field just out of Four Corners where the fair was being held, trying to think of a reason why Casey couldn't be in the race. This really wasn't meeting his expectations.
"It's too dangerous," he said finally.
"Oh, too dangerous for me, but not for you?" Casey challenged.
"It's too dangerous, isn't it, Mr Watson?" JD appealed to the man who was in charge of signing people up for the race to take place in two hours time. "Casey can't enter."
"Ain't any rules against it, JD," Virgil Watson replied. True, girls generally didn't enter the contests at the fair, not once they reached a certain age, but there were no rules about it written down. And Casey wasn't really an average girl.
"Fine!" JD snapped. He wasn't really sure why he was so angry, so upset about this. He just knew that the day wasn't going the way he'd imagined. He wanted to win, but he didn't want to compete against Casey. She might be angry with him if he beat her. And, if he came second to her... how would it look?
"Just don't expect the rest of us to hold back!"
"JD! You... you can do what you like! I can't imagine why I'd care! And I hope you don't expect me to hold back for you!" Casey turned on her heel and stormed off, her cheeks a bright and angry red.
JD turned the other way, brushing past people without seeing them. "Fine," he muttered to himself. "Fine. She'll see. She'll... and it won't be my fault. No. Tried to tell her... wouldn't listen."
When JD stopped he was by the archery butts. There was a sizeable crowd watching, waiting to see who would come second to Vin the tanner. It was Buck Wilmington's turn. He was holding a longbow nearly as big as he was, and Buck was a tall man. He nocked an arrow and drew the bow, holding it for a few seconds before he released the string. "Ahhh," said the crowd, as the arrow stuck just out of the target's bullseye. Buck drew the bow again, releasing a little quicker this time. "Oooh," murmured the crowd as, this time, the arrow stuck to the other side of the bullseye. Buck nocked his final arrow, studying the target for a moment before lifting the bow. He held his pose for a good ten seconds this time, and JD was sure he didn't breathe at all. When he released the string, the arrow flew as straight as... well, as an arrow, landing directly in the centre of the target. The crowd broke into applause. It was a good result.
Vin the tanner was next. He carried a bow two inches taller than he was, and JD knew for a fact that there was no one else in town who could draw it. Even Josiah, and he was built like an ox.
Vin had three arrows with him. He never used an arrow he hadn't made. He set the arrows on the ground a good ten paces back from the line which marked fifty paces. Had anyone else done that, it would have looked like arrogance, but not Vin.
The crowd was a little larger now, and they watched just as intently, although not with the same air of suspense as they had watched Buck.
Vin drew his first arrow, pausing for a narrow moment before releasing it. It landed in the dead centre of the target. He drew his second immediately, releasing it to have it land to the left of the first arrow. The third arrow joined the other two, landing to the right. There was less than an inch of space separating the three arrows.
The crowd broke into loud applause. Vin ducked his head slightly, and JD was sure he blushed. He tipped his hat, gathered up his bow and his arrows, and left quietly. JD stayed to watch the end of the archery contest. It wasn't as exciting. No-one could match Vin's score, or Buck's. Chris Larabee would have taken third place, but JD thought from the way he squinted in the sunlight and kept fiddling with the fletching on his arrows, that he had already been sampling Inez's famous rum. His third shot missed badly, and he wound up coming sixth. Harry Johnson came third, and Virgil Watson came fourth, amidst enthusiastic applause.
The prizes were awarded, and the crowd dispersed. JD moved on to the ring where the swordplay was to be held. This event drew a different crowd; fewer women and children, more men about JD's age. JD hung back from the group, watching the jostling and joking from a short distance. He had been friends with some of these men once, when they were all boys together and he still had time for the games boys played. When his mother was still alive. After she died and JD had begun working sixteen hours a day to pay off his overwhelming debt, he had lost contact with them, and felt awkward around them.
There were fourteen competitors, and in this contest too, the result was a foregone conclusion, but it was always fun to watch. The contestants were paired up, and it didn't take long to eliminate ten and leave the four who would spar for the highest placings. Buck was one of them; he wasn't as good with a sword as he was with a bow, but not many people in the village had swords, so the competition wasn't usually as fierce. There were two other men, neither of whom JD could name, but the focus now was all on the fourth man.
Nathan had come to the village several years before. He worked in the town as a healer, fixing minor injuries and selling medicines for just about anything. Some of the better off folks in Four Corners wouldn't have anything to do with him, insisted on travelling to visit a doctor two days ride away, but Nathan had a reputation for being very good at what he did. And that didn't just apply to his medicines.
Buck went first, against a lanky man of about twenty five with shoulder length blond hair. JD watched curiously; Buck’s opponent was not someone he recognised, and whenever new people turned up in Four Corners it was always worth taking notice. Buck was defeated fairly quickly, and then it was Nathan's round, against a slightly older man, in his thirties, solidly built with a thick beard. In four swift moves Nathan had disarmed his opponent and had pressed his blade against the man's throat. The crowd clapped appreciatively.
Buck and the bearded man duelled for third and fourth place, with Buck being defeated once more. He didn't appear at all disheartened by the loss, and swept into the crowd to accept consolations from two young women who had been cheering him on. Then it was time for Nathan's bout with the tall man. Lanky surprised everyone by stretching the round out for several minutes. He moved swiftly and easily, and handled his blade well, but eventually he began to tire, Nathan seizing on his slowing pace and knocking the sword from his hand. The crowd applauded wildly, JD joining in. Nathan shook hands with his defeated opponent, and prizes were awarded once more.
Looking around, JD realised he really ought to be getting ready for his own event. He checked on Milagro, who was tethered in a shady spot across the field. JD checked over his tack and polished the leather briefly. He mounted up and rode to the starting line for the race.
The track was not a terribly long one, only around a quarter of a mile. They would circuit it twice. There were hurdles interspersed throughout the track; a fallen tree, a row of barrels, a stack of hay bales and wall of wooden blocks. None of the hurdles were very high, but navigating the course safely and quickly was still a challenge. JD knew that the track would have been painstakingly checked over to ensure that there were no uneven spots or holes. Still, accidents sometimes happened. Feeling suddenly nervous, JD stroked Milagro’s neck, and the horse whickered.
There were over a dozen competitors lining up, all trying to get the better starting positions on the left side where the ground was firmer. JD wound up sort of in the middle, and Milagro showed his displeasure at being crowded with a flick of his tail. Casey got stuck over on the far right, but she wouldn’t return JD’s anxious gaze, keeping her eyes firmly trained on the track ahead of her.
Tiny announced the start of the race with a loud whistle, and the field of horses leaped forward. JD crouched over Milagro’s neck, and the horse surged forward on powerful legs. Milagro’s mane whipped back into JD’s face and he guided the horse with the slightest touch on the reins, waiting for the first fence to come into the view.
It was the wall. It wasn’t high, but it big enough, and once Milagro had cleared it the field had spread out more. There were three horses ahead of them, and JD was neck and neck with two others. He couldn’t see Casey, but he only let himself think about that for a second. They came up to a bend and he had to position Milagro to get around quickly.
By the end of the first lap, JD was in third place and a quick glance behind him showed that Casey was right there, just half a length back. He’d been holding Milagro back just slightly, making him save something for the second lap, but he let the reins out just a little now and Milagro lengthened his stride.
They came to the downhill stretch which led up to the hay bales. JD tried to collect Milagro enough so that he could make the jump rather than crashing into it. Milagro tossed his head in displeasure at being pulled up, and his strides became short and choppy. He made it over the hay bales and JD gave the horse his head again. Milagro thundered along the track, passing one of the other riders and getting closer to the person in front. A flash of movement from the other side cause JD to look over and realise that Casey was level with him. He urged Milagro to run faster.
They came around the last bend and approached the final fence, the fallen log. The first time, Milagro had gone right over the middle of it with ease. Now, though, as they got close, JD could feel Milagro’s strides become short and choppy as he tried to slow down. He urged the horse to keep running, but Milagro took only a few more strides before he pivoted sharply on his hindquarters and sprang to the left. JD, not ready for the abrupt change in direction, sailed out of the saddle and crashed hard into the log. He curled up as he crumpled to the ground, pain coursing through his entire body.
**********
It was one of the potter’s kids who ran to get Nathan. He wasn’t far away, listening to a band play on the other side of the field and eating an early dinner.
The boy led him over to the racetrack, where JD was lying on the ground, clutching one arm to his side. His face was white and covered with a sheen of sweat; his teeth bit into his bottom lip almost to the point of drawing blood.
“What happened?” Nathan asked briskly, not caring who answered. He crouched down at JD’s side and put one hand over his, wondering how he could get JD to let him see the injury.
“Milagro shied and he fell off,” Casey answered. She was standing next to Nathan wringing her hands. “He was going so fast, and he landed on the log.”
Nathan could see that; JD was lying right next to it, with fragments of bark and leaves all over him. JD was conscious but maybe he was in too much pain to say anything; he let Casey explain what had happened without interrupting.
“What hurts, JD?” Nathan asked. JD didn’t answer, only whimpered softly. Then he stiffened, and coughed, and a trickle of saliva tinged red dripped from the corner of his mouth. Nathan hoped that he’d simply bitten the inside of his cheek, and that the blood wasn’t evidence of a more serious internal injury.
Nathan looked around at the small crowd that had gathered around them. “Can some of you help me move him?” he asked. Moving would be painful for JD, but Nathan couldn’t do anything to help him in the middle of a field.
Josiah and Buck came forward and helped to lift JD up, while Nathan held him steady and Casey clutched his hand. JD gripped so tight it must have hurt her, but she didn’t make a sound. It took a long time to carry him from the field to Nathan’s home, and JD bravely held back sounds of pain as they went.
Once they arrived, Nathan thanked Buck and Josiah and tried to subtly usher them out the door. Casey had followed along as well, and didn’t pick up on Nathan’s hints at all. She sat next to JD where he lay on the bed and held his good hand. After a moment’s hesitation, Nathan decided to let her stay. She could help distract JD, and she was so focused on him that Nathan would probably be able to keep her from noticing anything he didn’t want her to see.
Nathan unbuttoned JD’s shirt and examined his chest, where bruising was already coming through in a number of places. Nathan looked on in concern, running his fingertips over the injuries and asking JD to tell him where it hurt. He gathered from JD’s responses that the answer was ‘everywhere’.
Nathan glanced at Casey, who sat with her eyes focused intently on JD, stroking the knuckles of his hand with her thumb. He decided he could risk the next step, and placed a hand on JD’s forehead, pretending to check for head injuries. In reality, he reached for the magic inside him and pulled it forward, directing it at JD. The diagnosis spell was one of the simplest he knew. It told him that JD had a number of broken ribs and two had pierced the lung, that his internal organs were bruised, and that his right shoulder was dislocated.
Nathan pulled out the strongest whiskey he had, and helped JD to drink a few mouthfuls. He grabbed a few twigs from the pile of kindling stacked by the fireplace, and held them in his left hand as he prodded at JD’s ribs again, feeling guilty as he heard JD’s gasp of pain. “I need to make sure the broken ribs haven’t punctured your lungs,” he lied. More blood was lining JD’s lips with every breath. He hadn’t needed the diagnosis spell to confirm the punctured lung. He spread one hand over the broken ribs, and turned his magic that way. The twigs in his hand broke apart and disintegrated, and he brushed the dust off against his pants. Healing the holes in JD’s lung was harder, and took more effort. Nathan felt a wave of exhaustion sweep over him, but steeled himself to continue.
“Now,” he said apologetically, “I need to pop your shoulder back in. It was going to hurt like hell, but it had to be done. He could see that JD already looked a little fuzzy from the alcohol; Nathan had added some of his own ingredients.
Nathan warned JD to keep still and Casey to stay back in case he didn’t. He got JD’s arm positioned and didn’t hesitate, pulling it sharply into place before JD could tense up. JD yelped, pulling away from Nathan’s grip, but he settled quickly as the pain eased and Nathan helped him lie back down.
“That’s it, JD,” Nathan said reassuringly. “You’re done.”
JD sighed with relief and Nathan went to collect the appropriate herbs from the pots growing on his windowsill. He bundled them into a handkerchief and returned to the bedside, pressing the bundle to the centre of JD’s chest. “It’ll be a few days before you’re completely healed,” he added. “You won’t be able to work tomorrow.”
“I have to work tomorrow!” JD protested. “The baron’s not going to let me take a day off.”
Nathan pushed JD back onto the bed gently. “He’s going to have to,” he explained, putting his hand to the bundled up herbs and pushing at them with his mind. “You’re not going to be up to it.” He waited for the bruising on JD’s internal organs to be absorbed into the herbs. “I’ll speak to him, if you think I’ll need to.” He kind of hoped JD wouldn’t take him up on that offer. Nathan had never really had much to do with the baron, and he liked it that way.
“Are you sure?” JD asked. “I don’t really hurt at all anymore.” He turned his head on the pillow. “Although, I do feel pretty tired suddenly.”
“That’s your body’s way of telling you to take some time off,” Nathan said helpfully. It was also JD’s body’s reaction to having all his available energy directed into healing extensive injuries, but JD didn’t need to know that. “You can sleep here tonight.”
JD shook his head again, but more slowly this time. His eyes were already drifting closed.
“I came out here with Lord Standish, I’m supposed to ride back with him.”
“I’ll take care of it JD, you just sleep.”
JD’s eyes closed and his breath deepened. Nathan looked from his sleeping patient to Casey sitting next to him, and after a moment she looked away from JD and met his gaze.
“Is he really going to be alright?” she asked.
“Yeah, Casey, he really is,” Nathan promised. “It was just a dislocated shoulder. He’ll be fine in a couple of days,” he lied.
Casey nodded but her expression didn’t lighten. Nathan guessed that something else was bothering her and waited patiently.
“It was the race,” she said suddenly.
“I saw.”
“I didn’t even see him fall. He was right behind me, and then suddenly he wasn’t any more, and I thought, good! That’ll show him if I win. I was angry with him.” She looked miserable and her eyes appeared threateningly damp.
“It’s not your fault,” Nathan said. “Accidents happen. It probably happened so fast you didn’t even have time to realise anything was wrong. There’s nothing you could have done to stop it.”
Casey nodded and seemed a little more at ease, so Nathan added quickly, “Do you think you could stay with him while I go find Standish?”
**************
The Four Corners inn was not exactly the sort of environment where Ezra would normally spend time by choice. It was small and dark, draughty and smoky. The food and drink it served were passable but far from what Ezra was accustomed to. All in all, it had few advantages, but the most significant of those was that it was far from Baron Creshaw's eyes. He would never come into a place like this for the sake of spying on Ezra. That was why it was the perfect location for Ezra to do the research he didn't dare do back on the estate.
The townsfolk left him alone for the most part and didn't show much curiosity about what he was reading. Ezra figured most of them didn't know how to read, and wasn't too careful about concealing his books for fear that seeming too protective of them might arouse more suspicions than he could deflect. He looked down at the pages of Davendithas the Scholar’s On the Ethics of Blood Magics which he’d been combing through for several hours. He sighed and forced himself to read another paragraph.
‘The potency of a spell can be increased through the use of blood or flesh in the place of other components, because of the concentration of life force,’ Ezra read. ‘A responsible mage uses their own or an animal’s blood, in small quantities, and this alone is sufficient to give a significant increase to a spell’s power, if such cannot be achieved by other means. Some mages, regrettably, have been known to reject this method and take, by trickery or force, the required components of their spellmaking from the people around them, even, in some cases, mortally wounding their victim in the pursuit. A few such mages have stated a belief that such moral compromises did, in themselves, grant greater strength to the resulting magic, but no compelling evidence exists that these claims are true.’
Ezra slammed the cover of the book closed in disgust. Four hours, he’d been sitting here reading, and learned nothing he didn’t already know. He’d suspected for months now that his stepfather was hiding something. It had taken weeks of careful observation to lead him to the conclusion that Creshaw was a mage; a fact which, for some reason, the man kept secret. It hadn’t taken long after that for him to surmise that whatever magic his stepfather was crafting in the locked rooms of his manor, where he allowed only himself and his most trusted servants, it was nothing that Davendithas would approve of.
Ezra had undergone a few years of mage training himself. He’d never managed to finish it, thanks to one of Maude's ill timed schemes, but he was still the most qualified person within hundreds of miles to do anything about Creshaw. If only he could figure out what that should be.
He hadn't suspected anything at first. He'd come to the baron's estate disgruntled, resigned to months of living in a provincial setting far removed from anything resembling civilisation. He'd been moderately pleasant to the man, because it paid to cultivate cordial relationships with people in power, but he'd really just been marking time until Maude tired of the marriage and he had an excuse to leave. Instead, he'd started to notice odd things about the house and grounds. The manor was decorated with items which, individually were insignificant but in combination made Ezra suspicious. There were places in the grounds where herbs could be found growing - not herbs which could be used for cooking, but ones which had other uses. And although he could tell that someone was cultivating those herb gardens, he’d never seen anyone tend them. They grew in pockets, behind trees and between bushes, as though someone was trying to conceal them.
And then there were the stories. One mysterious death could be explained away. Even two. But Ezra had heard about at least four, all of which had some explanation behind them which he found lacking in some detail or other.
Ezra might not have connected these observations to Creshaw, except for the subtle oddities that existed in his house. The wing that was forbidden to nearly everyone - that on its own Ezra might have overlooked. The odd stains that he sometimes noticed on Creshaw’s fingers and clothes, that he never really managed to explain away - that too didn’t seem like much by itself. It wasn’t until Ezra spied his stepfather one day, taking scraps of raw meat from the kitchen, that he really started to think something was going on. It didn’t make sense. What use could a Baron have for raw meat? And if he did need it for something, why not just order a servant to bring him some, rather than fetching it himself? Ezra had not failed to notice that Creshaw had entered the kitchen at one of the rare moments when it was empty, save for Ezra himself who had been well concealed in the hope of overhearing useful gossip.
When Maude had grown tired of being married, Ezra had made some excuse to remain behind, glad that the work he'd done ingratiating himself had led Creshaw to allow it. Ever since then, he'd tried to figure out what the Baron was up to, and when he had the privacy he went through every book on magic he had, looking for a way to stop him. He was getting closer, but it was a slow process.
Ezra was ready to give up on his pursuit for the day. His head was swimming after hours of reading and it was getting close to five o’clock. He didn’t want to chance JD seeing what he’d been reading. He stuffed his book into his bag, where it was out of sight, and was doubly glad that he had done so when he saw who had entered the inn. It wasn’t JD, who he was expecting to arrive at any minute. It was Baron Creshaw.
“My Lord,” said Ezra, trying to conceal his surprise. “What brings you here?”
The Baron smiled at him. It wasn’t a nice smile exactly; Creshaw didn’t really do nice. “Why, I thought your idea to venture out into the township to be quite a good one, so I came out to meet you.”
“Oh,” said Ezra. “Well. That’s wonderful.” He didn’t believe it for a second. Creshaw didn’t come to Four Corners. He didn’t leave his home just to take in the scenery or socialise. He was up to something. “I was just about to start on my way back, actually,” he said, hoping that JD would appear and give him an excuse to leave.
“Well then,” said Creshaw, “The stableboy must be only a minute away, hmm? Let us wait for him outside.” He led the way outside with an odd eagerness, and Ezra followed as a bad feeling began to grow within him.
They stood outside the inn for several minutes with no sign of JD, and Ezra started to become annoyed. It had been an impulsive kindness of his to have JD come with him into town and leave him unoccupied for the afternoon. He had thought that JD would repay the favour by returning promptly as he had instructed. Clearly that had been a mistake. It was a shame that the Baron was here as well to witness his dereliction, but Ezra knew that was really JD’s fault, not his.
“Oh dear,” Creshaw murmured when ten minutes had passed. “The boy is quite late, isn’t he? I don’t suppose he imagines you will tolerate tardiness, Ezra, that’s no way to command respect from the servants.”
Ezra grit his teeth and bit back a scathing reply, relieved when he was saved from having to think of an answer when they were approached by one of the townspeople.
Ezra recognised him, and after a second put a name to the face. Nathan. He was a healer, supposedly a good one. And seeing him actually came as a relief to Ezra, because he was likely seeking them out because of JD, and if something had happened to JD which involved Nathan it probably meant he was hurt, which mean neither JD nor Ezra could be considered at fault for his lateness.
“My Lord. Uh, Lords. I was hoping to find you.”
“And why is that, uh...” Creshaw trailed off.
“Nathan. It’s about JD. He had a nasty fall from his horse this afternoon. He’s not too badly hurt, luckily, but he’s not fit to ride home tonight or work tomorrow. I thought you’d want to know.”
“Oh dear,” said Creshaw. “Where is the poor boy? And are you sure he’s not badly injured?”
“He’s at my house,” said Nathan. “I tend a lot of sick folk there.”
“Of course you do. Would you show me the way? I won’t be able to set my mind at ease until I’ve laid eyes on the boy myself.”
“Well, of course. It’s this way.” Nathan led the Baron towards his home, and Ezra trailed after them, not entirely believing what he was seeing. There was no way Creshaw’s concern could be real. He’d never shown such concern for anyone, not that Ezra had seen. He didn’t sound sincere, and Ezra noticed he still wasn’t referring to JD by name. And it certainly was a coincidence that he’d just happened to show up in Four Corners, only minutes before Nathan had come seeking them out.
Nathan lived in a small house just off the main street. He opened the door and held it as the Baron peered inside, and then stepped through, taking exaggerated care not to let his clothing touch the doorframe or floor.
Ezra stepped into the house with some trepidation. It was cramped inside, with a bench along one wall and a kitchen table taking up the middle of the room. Dried herbs were strewn everywhere, and a variety of bottles and jars were scattered around, some full, some empty, some labelled and others not. There was no order to it that Ezra could see. A large fireplace sat by the back wall, the fire in it reduced to coals. In the corner next to it a small bed rested, and upon it lay JD. A young girl who Ezra recognised but couldn't name sat by his side, holding his hand. She came to her feet and curtsied when she noticed Ezra and Baron Creshaw, and the movement woke JD from his doze.
"Huh?" he said groggily, and then, “M’Lord!” He blinked and yawned hugely, seeming to come slightly more awake after that and struggling to sit up. "Oh shit. I mean... sorry. I'm late. I've gotta go, Nathan." He tried to push the blankets back, but one hand was bound to his chest in a sling, and the other flopped against the covers uselessly, as though JD had forgotten what his fingers were for.
"You stay in bed," Nathan ordered, but JD didn't listen and Ezra guessed that the Baron’s sudden appearance had caused JD some great consternation.
"Stay there, JD, and take your rest," he said firmly. "Nathan has explained to us about your accident, and we realise you're not fit for duty right now." He gazed firmly at Creshaw as he spoke, hoping that the other man would not contradict him, but the Baron was gazing down at JD with a slight frown on his face and didn’t seem to be listening at all.
"Baron Creshaw," JD mumbled, showing real fear even as exhaustion dragged his eyelids down.
That seemed to startle Creshaw into paying attention, and he said soothingly, “Don’t be troubled JD. Of course you may have a day to recover. It’s the least I can do for such a loyal servant.”
JD was reassured and lay back on the bed, his eyes already drifting shut. Creshaw didn’t move from his side, examining JD with narrowed eyes.
“The lad seems quite worn out,” he said abruptly. “What exactly are his injuries?” His manner was suddenly much more businesslike and abrupt, and Nathan straightened as he replied.
“He’s got some cracked ribs, and he dislocated his shoulder,” Nathan said. “That’s why the arm is in a sling. He’ll need to keep it on for a few days. Apart from that, just a few bumps and bruises.”
“I see,” said the Baron. “How very fortunate that you were available to offer such competent care.” He looked back to JD.
“What happened, exactly?” Ezra asked, when it became clear that Creshaw wasn’t going to. Nathan shrugged, and then the girl spoke up.
“His horse shied,” she said. “I don’t know what at. Milagro never spooks like that! JD went flying into the fallen log on the racetrack.”
“My word,” said Creshaw. “He was very lucky not to be much more badly hurt.”
“I was so afraid,” the girl added. “At first, I thought he must be dead. He seemed so badly hurt.”
“Oh, now, Casey, you know it wasn’t nearly as bad as it looked,” Nathan said quickly, and Casey nodded.
“You are owed some of the credit for that, I’m sure, young man,” Creshaw insisted.
The words were a compliment, but the tone wasn’t right, too sharp, too demanding to be simple praise. Nathan nevertheless gave a nod and said, “Thank you,” but the tension in his frame betrayed that he knew there was more to the Baron’s words. For a moment, the two of them froze as Ezra and Casey watched on, both aware that the other had some secret agenda and not able to uncover it without revealing their own. At last, Creshaw turned away and Ezra sighed with relief.
Creshaw bid them a good night and left the house. Ezra paused for a moment before following, wanting to talk to Nathan. He wanted to ask what JD’s injuries had actually been, and what he’d done about them, because clearly there was more happening there than he had let on. But he couldn’t keep the Baron waiting, and Nathan had no reason to share his secrets with Ezra in any case. Ezra reluctantly gave his own farewells and followed Creshaw outside.
**************
The next morning, Ezra invented another excuse and rode back into Four Corners, meaning to talk to the townspeople and see if they could tell him anything useful, since his reading was proving fruitless. He reached the outskirts of town and met Josiah, riding down the path which led from his own home to the main road.
Ezra had spoken with Josiah a few times before. He was someone, Ezra believed, who had seen and done a lot and had many stories to tell, although he usually didn’t. He hadn’t always lived in Four Corners, had only been there for a few years. He didn’t really talk about where he’d come from; hardly ever talked about himself at all. Ezra still thought it would be worthwhile asking him what he knew about Baron Creshaw’s activities. He was an educated man and from some of their conversations, Ezra guessed that he knew a little more about magic than the average person.
“Josiah,” he said, pulling Chaser alongside him. “A pleasant morning to you.”
“And to you as well, Lord Standish,” Josiah replied. “I heard about JD’s accident. I hope he’s not badly hurt?”
“Oh, no. He’ll be fine in a day or two, thanks to Nathan.” Because Ezra was watching for it, he saw the twitch in Josiah’s expression. So he knew something about Nathan. Ezra wondered if he could get Josiah to shed some light on the little scene yesterday between the healer and Baron Creshaw, if he dared to bring it up. “It was most unfortunate for the poor boy, though.”
Josiah nodded his head. “That JD’s been through some trials,” he said sadly. “I hope his Lordship won’t hold this against him.” He looked sideways at Ezra.
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t,” Ezra said quickly. “I’ve heard that he’s worked for Baron Creshaw for a long time, and his mother as well?” He let the sentence trail off leadingly, encouraging Josiah to add what he knew.
“She did,” he confirmed. “Ever since JD was just a wee thing, up until she got sick.”
“Such a shame,” Ezra agreed, ducking low on Chaser’s neck to avoid a low hanging branch. “Was she a sickly woman?”
“Oh, not at all. The doctors didn’t know what to make of it.”
“Doctors? It wasn’t Nathan who tended her?”
“Oh, no, this was before he came to Four Corners. And not long after I did, truth be told.” Josiah turned his own horse to avoid a boggy part of the track, and Ezra followed his lead. “The Baron sent for a doctor from Ridge City. He came and visited her a few times, did what he could.”
“Hmm.” Ezra thought that over. He’d known about JD’s mother’s illness, but nothing about the medical attention she’d received. “And they had no idea what was wrong with her?”
“None at all.”
“Did no one else in Four Corners have any similar illness?” he asked, trying not to push too hard. It wouldn’t do for Josiah to become suspicious now.
“Not that I can recall,” Josiah said thoughtfully.
“Because I’ve heard that Vin the tanners’ mother took sick as well...”
“That was years ago,” Josiah interrupted, frowning. “I don’t follow... you think there’s some connection between the two?”
“Oh, no, definitely not!” Ezra backtracked hastily. “I was just, uh, following a train of thought. But of course, there’s no reason to think... well...” He really had messed this up. Josiah was openly staring at him now, his gaze intense. They had come to the first houses in Four Corners, and Josiah drew his horse to a halt
“I’m headed this way,” Josiah said, nodding to the left. “Take care, my Lord.”
“And you as well,” Ezra answered quickly. He nudged Chaucer on through the town
The other person he particularly wanted to see was Mary Travis, whose father in law was the mayor. She’d married his son, Stephen, when they were both young, and they’d had a son together. Stephen’s death had happened less than a year ago, not too long after Ezra had come to Four Corners, and so he’d heard some of the gossip about it.
Mary lived with her in-laws in a nice house in the middle of town. Ezra paused outside and wondered how to open a conversation with the young widow. They’d had little to do with one another previously, and Ezra didn’t want to alarm her by asking too many questions that brought up her husband’s death.
The front door of the house opened a crack as Ezra sat there, and a young blond boy stepped out, holding a jug of water. He walked across the porch but stopped when he saw Ezra and stood there, blinking at him, his knuckles tightening to white on the handle of the jug.
“Good day to you, Master Travis,” Ezra said, keeping his voice soft and trying not to alarm the clearly startled boy. Billy blinked at him, and after a moment’s hesitation, finally climbed down the porch steps, still not taking his eyes off Ezra.
Ezra dismounted and stroked Chaser’s neck as he gathered the reins. “Are you planning to water the garden?” he asked, nodding to the jug of water. Billy nodded and began watering the roses in the flowerbeds. He went about the task with a deep concentration, and Ezra looked over the garden with a critical eye.
The front door opened again, and Mary Travis stepped onto the porch. “Are you finished yet, Billy?” she asked, and then she caught sight of Ezra. She looked at him and Ezra returned her gaze with his friendliest smile.
“Good morning, Mrs Travis,” he said. Mary didn’t smile back.
“What brings you here, my Lord?” she asked. Her manner was guarded and Ezra spread his hands.
“It happens that I have a need to speak with you, Mrs Travis,” he said politely, but Mary was unmoved.
“What about?” she asked, frowning.
It didn’t suit Ezra to be too blunt, but he thought that being honest might ease some of her suspicions. “If it would suit you, I’d like to ask you some questions about your husband.”
Mary didn’t respond for a second or two. Then she said, “Billy, go inside now, please,” and Billy went back to the house, passing his mother as she descended the steps. As he was behind her, Mary didn’t notice that Billy didn’t go inside but stopped at the door, looking back at the two of them. “Is that what you were talking to Billy about?” she asked, her tone becoming much cooler, and it had been quite chilly to begin with.
“I promise you, I didn’t mention it until you emerged,” Ezra said sincerely. “Why would I ask Billy?” Mary’s expression flickered, and Ezra knew there was something she was trying to hide. “Was he there when it happened?” he asked, realising that he was correct when Mary stiffened.
“If you will excuse me, my Lord, we have a great deal to do and little time for idle chatter.” She started to turn away and Ezra frantically called after her.
“I want only to help, you have my word,” he said. “If you would allow me to talk to Billy - you would be present, of course, and I wouldn’t...”
“He doesn’t talk about it!” Mary interrupted.
“I would do all I could to avoid upsetting him...”
“You don’t understand, my Lord.” Mary spoke firmly and Ezra’s protests died on his lips. “Ever since it happened, Billy doesn’t talk at all.” Without sparing him a second glance, she turned back to the house and ushered Billy inside. Ezra watched thoughtfully, but didn’t try to say anything else.
************
The conversation with Lord Standish had left Josiah in a thoughtful mood. He’d mused over it all day, trying to figure out what he’d been getting at.
He’d long suspected that the illness suffered by JD’s mother had not been entirely natural. It was interesting that Standish had come to the same conclusion. It had never occurred to Josiah to connect her illness to Vin’s mother, though. He’d never met her; she’d died years before he set foot in Four Corners. But if Standish thought there was some sort of link... maybe there was. Knowing that someone else had reached the same conclusion made Josiah give his own suspicions far more weight.
The problem was he still wasn’t sure he could trust Standish. He was too close to the Baron, too close for Josiah to be certain they weren’t cooking up some plot between them. So he’d brushed Standish’s questions off and played dumb, but he knew exactly what the younger man had been talking about.
When morning came around, Josiah decided to engage in a little questioning himself. He knew what he was looking for as well as Standish seemed to, and he wouldn’t mess it up by playing things too close to the chest. He knew the people in Four Corners who could be trusted with a secret.
He left his house as soon as there was light to ride by. He rode straight through the village to the other side, leaving his horse at a hitching post at the side of the street and going to the house which was his destination. He rapped on the door and heard curses from inside, something along the lines of it being too early for decent people. He waited patiently. At last, the door opened a crack.
“Morning, Buck,” he said. “Can I have a few minutes of your time?”
Once Josiah was settled comfortable inside and a few subtle hints had secured him a cup of coffee, he said, “Buck, there are some things I want to ask you about. But I need to know you’re going to keep this between us, understand? It’s not something the rest of the town needs to be hearing about.”
“Josiah, you know I would take a secret to my grave if you asked it of me,” said Buck, leaning forward over his own mug.
“Right,” said Josiah. Buck wasn’t exactly known for his discretion, but Josiah believed him. He wouldn’t betray a confidence, not for anything. “Because what I want to ask you about, it’s pretty serious. And it’s got to do with Baron Creshaw.”
Buck’s face became much more serious at that. If the subject of this discussion got spread around and word got back to the Baron, it could be bad news for both of them.
“I hear you, Josiah, and you know I’m not one for gossip.”
That was a blatant lie, but Josiah was satisfied that Buck could keep this one thing to himself.
“I know your friend Chris used to have dealings with him, and Sarah worked for him for a little while,” he said. Buck nodded. “I’d just ask Chris, but, well...” Buck nodded again, and Josiah didn’t bother to finish that sentence. “So I wanted to ask you if you knew of anything, anything about the Baron that was... odd.”
“Odd like how?”
“Well, for example... did he have any rules in his household that seemed... strange?”
“Hm. Couldn’t really say,” Buck answered. “Oh, except he never lets his servants wear brass. Not that most of them can afford it, but still. And the same for his horses... none of the tack uses brass, even the fancy stuff.”
Josiah nodded. That was an interesting detail. It didn’t confirm his suspicions, but it was a clue.
“Do you know of anything strange happening on the Baron’s estate?”
“Strange?” said Buck.
“Yeah, something like... well...” Josiah hesitated, and then took the plunge. “People going missing mysteriously. Or dying unexpectedly.”
Buck gave him a hard look, and Josiah was annoyed with himself for pushing too hard, too soon. “Now, you look here, Josiah. I don’t know what your game is, but if you’re going to come poking around here, getting all nosy about the past, I’m not going to stand for it.”
Josiah hadn’t wanted to reveal quite so much, but he’d upset Buck and he felt obliged to explain why.
“I’ve got a suspicion that the Baron is using magic,” he explained. “Using magic, and not for anything good.” Buck didn’t move, but Josiah could see he was listening. “If he’s trying to gather power enough for some huge spell, and wants to cast it without risking his own health, he might do so by... by taking other people. Taking their lives, using their life energy to power his spells. And in the past few years, I know there have been a few people go missing, and a few more that died when there didn’t seem any real reason for them to, but the first that come to mind are...”
“Sarah and Adam,” Buck breathed, and Josiah nodded confirmation.
It took a minute for Buck to collect himself, but eventually he shook his head. “I think you’re barking up the wrong tree, Josiah,” he said. “I’m not saying you’re wrong about the Baron, but Sarah and Adam were just an accident. An accident, okay?”
He said that last quite forcefully, and Josiah replied, “Okay, Buck. That’s fine, it was an accident,” as consolingly as he could.
“The Baron didn’t have nothing to do with them. We don’t know what happened, but it wasn’t that.”
Josiah was torn between backing down and pushing on. He could tell Buck was upset, but he needed to get to the bottom of this. “If you don’t know what happened, Buck, then how can you rule it out?”
“I just can!” Buck snapped. Josiah sensed that he was close to an answer, and he waited. Finally, Buck relented. “I’ll tell you what I know, Josiah, but you need to keep it between us. I shouldn’t even be telling you... it’s not my story to share, it’s Chris’s. He’d be furious if he knew I was even thinking of telling you this.”
“It’s okay, Buck, I know you want to look out for Chris. I won’t go sharing his business with everyone. You know I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”
“Yeah, I got that.” Buck took a deep breath. “You know he was home that night?”
“I wasn’t sure,” Josiah answered. He’d heard a few different versions of the story, but they were all vague, and all managed to be completely different even so.
“He’d got up to check on a sick horse,” Buck explained. “He was out in the barn, and he must have sat down to watch the horses for a while, because he fell asleep. Not sure for how long, but when he came out, the house was on fire.”
Josiah nodded. The fire, that part he knew. The house had never been rebuilt; the burned ruins of it still stood on Chris’s land.
“It was all ablaze, and he tried to get in, to get Sarah and Adam, but it was too far gone. He tried to put it out, but one person can’t douse a fire that big. It was hopeless.” Buck looked down at his hands, and Josiah felt guilty for unearthing the bad memories.
“It went up so fast, we knew it had to have been deliberately lit. We looked all over, but we couldn’t find any tracks, any sign of someone having been there that shouldn’t have.”
Josiah frowned. “I’m sorry, Buck,” he said. “I’m sure that was a terrible thing to go through.” Buck nodded confirmation, but he didn’t seem too overcome so Josiah decided to ask another question. “I’m a bit confused, though. If you think someone lit the fire on purpose, and you couldn’t find any sign that that person was physically there, then why are you so sure it wasn’t someone using magic? Like Baron Creshaw?”
Buck gave Josiah a look that could have melted glass. “You leave it, Josiah. There’s no need for you to go poking around into this.”
“I don’t understand!” Josiah protested. “It’s the logical answer. There’s something you’re not telling me.”
“And I’m not going to, so back off!”
“Buck.” Josiah raised his hands, palms out. “I don’t know what it is you don’t want to tell me, but I can promise you, whatever it is... I won’t judge you for it, and I won’t tell anyone. I need to understand what’s going on, because we could be in danger, if I’m right. And I can’t do that without your help.”
Buck glared at him, but Josiah didn’t back down. At last, he sighed and looked down. “Hell,” he said. “Chris’ll murder me if he finds out I told you this. You let it on to anyone, Josiah, and you’re digging my grave, get it?” Josiah nodded, and he went on. “Reason we know it weren’t the Baron killed Sarah and Adam is... well. We think it was Chris.”
“You think...” It took a minute for Josiah to work that through in his mind.
“He never meant it!” Buck added quickly. “Chris, he’d have killed himself before he let anything happen to them. It’s why he’s... well, how he is. But we found out, afterwards, that... Chris has an ability.”
“An ability?”
“Yeah.” Buck glanced up at Josiah, checking his reaction. “I don’t get the right term for it, that’s mage stuff. I stay out of it. But Chris, he can start fires. Not with flint or nothing. He can just... start them, with his mind.”
“He can start fires?”
“First time it happened was just after the funeral. We went looking again, for any sign that would help us figure out what happened. Chris got real frustrated, and then... this tree just caught fire. He was looking at it, and he was pissed as hell, and then it just... went up in flames. Damn lucky the whole forest didn’t go up.”
Josiah gaped a little, but quickly got himself under control. “You’re sure it was Chris?”
“Yeah,” Buck answered quickly. “We’re sure. It’s happened again, since then. Whenever he gets real mad, or if he drinks too much, which is sort of a problem...”
Josiah nodded. He could imagine it would be.
“Sometimes, when he dreams about them, too. He don’t sleep too deep these days.”
Josiah thought about what Buck had said. It was unusual, but not impossible for Chris to have the abilities Buck claimed. But he thought they might have come to the wrong conclusion about what it meant.
“When a magic ability shows up like this, late in life when the person didn’t have it before,” he explained, “It’s usually because a latent magic talent has been awakened somehow.”
“Yeah?” Buck said.
“But usually, the ability comes about in response to a terrible trauma or loss.”
“What do you mean?”
“Buck, I think it’s likely that this fire ability Chris has came about as a result of Sarah and Adam’s deaths. I don’t think he caused that fire. I think the fire-starting is a result of his grief,” Josiah explained patiently.
Buck took a minute to digest that. “You’re saying that you don’t think Chris killed Sarah and Adam at all?”
“No, I don’t think he did.”
“Then how come we couldn’t find the person who did do it?”
“Probably because they used magic to cover their tracks. Put Chris under a spell to send him to sleep, did whatever they came to do or got what they were looking for, and lit the fire to hide the evidence.” Josiah looked around, even though they were safely hidden in the privacy of Buck’s house, and lowered his voice. “I think it is Baron Creshaw who killed them. It would have been simple enough for him to do, if he were a powerful enough mage.”
Buck mused over that, and said, “How do you know so much about magic, Josiah? You ain’t a mage.”
Josiah hesitated, but Buck’s honesty deserved the same in return. “I used to be.”
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four