“Get your filthy hog asses back here,” the slimmer of the peasants demanded. Adrienne tried her magic again, but to no avail. “Oooh, more magic,” said Maisie with a sarcastic tone, “do you think these two are looking for more spanking, Annabella? You’d think they were sore enough.” The thinner peasant laughed as she picked up her skirt and pulled it back over her hips, “if they try anything like that again, they’re going to wish that’s all that happened to them.” “I heard mages need their hands for casting; let’s tie ‘em like the hogs they are.”
Maisie reached over the fence and grabbed Adrienne, who knew better than to resist at this point. She tied her wrists, and then did the same to Anwen, leaving their feet unbound, and not bothering to clothe or wash them. “I was going to take one of the pigs to sell at the market today. I somehow think taking you will land me more gold, not to mention it will be far more entertaining.”
Once Maisie and Annabella had dressed, they climbed onto their farm wagon and tied a rope from it to the wrists of the two bound women. “Uh-uh,” Annabella told Anwen as she tried to climb into the wagon, “that’s for us, and our sheep’s milk. You two will walk.”
Stumbling behind the oxcart for what seemed like hours to the taunts of their captors and the jeers of passersby, they arrived at a small village market. It wasn’t much, just a slightly less muddy circle without a ramshackle cottage like the ones that surrounded the space. What it lacked in charm, it made up for in the crowd and level of activity going on. Once again, the Glantrians were lead to the stocks, where people slapped their flanks and backsides and tossed rotten eggs and vegetables. Adrienne seemed shut off after the journey, she hadn’t talked for the last hour. But Anwen kept calling out, “Do you know who we are? You’ll be punished for this! We belong to the Archmaga’s court!”
“And I’m the Empress of Kara-Tur!” laughed one tavern maid as she squeezed the water out of a particularly nasty cleaning rag over Anwen’s hair. The villagers did no harm to their prisoners, except for the stinging smacks to their already sore backside, but after a while, traffic in the market died down. It picked up again after midnight, as the inebriated villagers left the tavern. But then, it was mercifully quiet. Adrienne had been speaking again, if only to tell Anwen to stop trying to talk their way out of this, as it only seemed to make things worse. “I could almost sleep if my wrists and neck weren’t chaffing.” “And my butt….owwwww” Anwen responded. Shortly after sunrise, one of the villagers, a kind-seeming older woman came and unlocked the stocks. “Leave this town, don’t come back,” she urged them. “What about clothes?” Adrienne asked. The woman walked over to her worn-out mule, from which she had recently unloaded basksets of fish, and peeled the smelly, threadbare horse-blanket from its back. “It’s all we can spare,” she answered as Adrienne’s expression seemed poised to object. “Let’s go,” said Anwen, wrapping the blanket over their shoulders the best she could. Adrienne wanted to stop to get her bearings, but the elderly woman interjected, “Go now! Not everyone is as willing to give up the best entertainment this village has seen in a long time. Go.”
It would be simplistic to say that the two suffered much trial and tribulation on their way back to the capital. They encountered bandits, bees, thistles, and just about every other hardship of the road. But in half a week’s time, they arrived at the castle’s postern gate. Adrienne had decided not to risk the journey through the entire capital city clad in nothing but a smelly horse blanket.
Archmaga Karana would normally have made her underlings wait some time for an audience. But this time, her servants met them at the door, washed them and dressed them for court, and admitted them immediately. As they bowed, the Archmaga waved her hand and two small stools slid into them, landing them seated below her throne. No one was entirely certain of the Archmaga's age. She had been reigning for decades now, and still seemed to be in her thirties. Just as her appearance concealed her age, her stature belied her power. She was of average height and slightly stockier than average in build. Her olive skin contrasted with her curly auburn hair. Some might say she was beautiful, others might disagree, although the latter knew the importance of keeping suchr thoughts to themselves. Throughout Glantri, she was known as an iron-fisted ruler with a severe temper. Some of the mages might have balked at her draconian leadership, if they weren't so afraid of her temper. She stared long and hard at the two diplomats seated before her before she deigned to speak. “Word of your humiliating failure has already reached me through my spies in Kerameikos. I frown upon failure.” “I’m sorry your supreme maj…” started Adrienne. “Shut up. No apology or excuse will compensate me for the damage you have done to our cause. You will return, secure your incarcerated companion’s freedom, and continue to serve me as my representatives in Kerameikos.”
Anwen protested, “But, your Supreme Majesty, we are mocked and disgraced in Kerameikos…surely you wouldn’t subject us to-“ “Surely you would want more dignified representation than the current state of affairs there allows us,” interrupted Adrienne.
“I have a plan,” said Karana, “And yes, it pleases me that you reap the harvest of your failure. Wait there for orders from my secret operatives.”
“Why can’t your operatives just free Emelyn instead of us?” asked Anwen.
“Fool! Haven’t you been listening? And yes, I have one tool that will help with the job, but you must keep it hidden and use it only under orders, or in the most dire emergency, for it could ruin my plan.” She waved her hand and two servants approached with a singularly odd-looking wand on a pillow. “This is the Wand of Num the Mad. I want you to spend a day in the library and laboratory studying its history and powers. Return to me tomorrow, and I will test you. If you are prepared, you can return to Kerameikos on the next morrow. If you are found wanting, you will face my wrath.”
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