approached the throne, took to his knee in supplication, and bowed deeply. "My Lord, all I ask is official recognition for Ran and for his priesthood. Nothing more, just a haven for worship where the faithful can gather."
"If I recognize your god and grant you liberty to practice your religion in my land, then you will defend me from the King's armies?"
"Yes, My Lord."
"Nothing more?" The Baron laughed. Rotiaqua watched with a skeptical eye. She felt the magic emanating from the Wizard. It was muddy, as if it was a mixture of different types of magic, not pure and clear like her own.
"Nothing more, My Lord."
"Rise then ... What is your name, Wizard?"
"My Lord, I am called Sulrad."
"Well, Sulrad. If you can do as you say, I will grant you the freedom you request of me, but first you must prove yourself."
"As you wish, My Lord." The Wizard bowed his head low and started to back out of the audience chamber.
"Not so quick, Wizard. I need a reliable witness. You will take my daughter with you so she can report back to me what you do. You will protect her with your life. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, My Lord."
The next day Sulrad sent word to the Castle that he had located the village where the King's men would attack. Rotiaqua called her Guards and a small squad of soldiers and rode out with the Priest. It took half of the morning to reach the village where Omrik's men were supposed to be headed.
The King's men were working their way along the border towns on her father's land, burning and killing just as they'd said they would. It wasn't hard to determine the next town they would attack. Rotiaqua was not impressed with the Wizard's powers of divination.
Sulrad set up camp on a hill overlooking the town. The stone-walled houses below were topped with sparse thatch roofs. Smoke trickled form chimneys as the townsfolk carried on with the business of harvesting and stockpiling the crops.
A rickety wagon stuttered down the dusty lane behind a pair of oxen; the oxen were being driven by a child.
The wagon made its way to a field almost at the extent of her vision. The wagon stopped, and the occupants piled out. They attacked the wheat with their scythes and sickles. The tall waving stalks of grain fell methodically before their labor.
The child who had been driving the wagon joined another in the task of gathering the grain into sheaves, tying them up, and standing them in the field like soldiers at attention in a ragged line. They made quick work, cutting a wide swath that quickly stretched to the low rock wall that marked the extent of this particular field. They turned and headed back towards her, just as quickly felling the golden stalks.
They had half the field harvested before the blare of a distant horn pierced the silence. The farmers perked up at the sound and ceased their labor. They gathered together, forming a solid mass with extended forks and scythe blades.
A dozen men galloped down the lane towards the assembled farmers, dust filling the air behind them. They flew a banner bearing the King's crest. Rotiaqua turned to the Wizard and called out. "Here they come."
Sulrad rushed down the hill to the dirt lane ahead of the knot of farmers. He stood in the middle of the dusty road, arm outstretched to halt the advancing army.
"In the name of Ran, I order you to stop and leave this land," he shouted.
The lead soldier reined his horse to a stop as he reached the Wizard. The soldier remained seated and settled his horse as his men stopped behind him.
"In whose name?" the soldier asked.
"In the name of Ran, on behalf of Baron Rieck, I command you to leave this land and its people and return to your King."
"I don't know no Ran." The soldier pulled his sword from its scabbard and held it high. "In the name of King Omrik, I command you to step aside or be run through where you stand. We are meting out the just punishment that the King has decreed."
The soldier shook the reins and his horse
"If I recognize your god and grant you liberty to practice your religion in my land, then you will defend me from the King's armies?"
"Yes, My Lord."
"Nothing more?" The Baron laughed. Rotiaqua watched with a skeptical eye. She felt the magic emanating from the Wizard. It was muddy, as if it was a mixture of different types of magic, not pure and clear like her own.
"Nothing more, My Lord."
"Rise then ... What is your name, Wizard?"
"My Lord, I am called Sulrad."
"Well, Sulrad. If you can do as you say, I will grant you the freedom you request of me, but first you must prove yourself."
"As you wish, My Lord." The Wizard bowed his head low and started to back out of the audience chamber.
"Not so quick, Wizard. I need a reliable witness. You will take my daughter with you so she can report back to me what you do. You will protect her with your life. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, My Lord."
The next day Sulrad sent word to the Castle that he had located the village where the King's men would attack. Rotiaqua called her Guards and a small squad of soldiers and rode out with the Priest. It took half of the morning to reach the village where Omrik's men were supposed to be headed.
The King's men were working their way along the border towns on her father's land, burning and killing just as they'd said they would. It wasn't hard to determine the next town they would attack. Rotiaqua was not impressed with the Wizard's powers of divination.
Sulrad set up camp on a hill overlooking the town. The stone-walled houses below were topped with sparse thatch roofs. Smoke trickled form chimneys as the townsfolk carried on with the business of harvesting and stockpiling the crops.
A rickety wagon stuttered down the dusty lane behind a pair of oxen; the oxen were being driven by a child.
The wagon made its way to a field almost at the extent of her vision. The wagon stopped, and the occupants piled out. They attacked the wheat with their scythes and sickles. The tall waving stalks of grain fell methodically before their labor.
The child who had been driving the wagon joined another in the task of gathering the grain into sheaves, tying them up, and standing them in the field like soldiers at attention in a ragged line. They made quick work, cutting a wide swath that quickly stretched to the low rock wall that marked the extent of this particular field. They turned and headed back towards her, just as quickly felling the golden stalks.
They had half the field harvested before the blare of a distant horn pierced the silence. The farmers perked up at the sound and ceased their labor. They gathered together, forming a solid mass with extended forks and scythe blades.
A dozen men galloped down the lane towards the assembled farmers, dust filling the air behind them. They flew a banner bearing the King's crest. Rotiaqua turned to the Wizard and called out. "Here they come."
Sulrad rushed down the hill to the dirt lane ahead of the knot of farmers. He stood in the middle of the dusty road, arm outstretched to halt the advancing army.
"In the name of Ran, I order you to stop and leave this land," he shouted.
The lead soldier reined his horse to a stop as he reached the Wizard. The soldier remained seated and settled his horse as his men stopped behind him.
"In whose name?" the soldier asked.
"In the name of Ran, on behalf of Baron Rieck, I command you to leave this land and its people and return to your King."
"I don't know no Ran." The soldier pulled his sword from its scabbard and held it high. "In the name of King Omrik, I command you to step aside or be run through where you stand. We are meting out the just punishment that the King has decreed."
The soldier shook the reins and his horse
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