rose to follow after him.
“You know,” Giorge said. “It might be in there. It would make sense, wouldn’t it? I really looked at that book when I found it, and there isn’t any indication of a secret panel or compartment.”
“Perhaps you missed it,” Angus said, “like you did the one in his sleeve.”
“Doubtful,” Giorge protested. “Unless magic is hiding it.”
“It’s not,” Angus said.
They arrived at Teffles’ corpse and Hobart frowned. “We should have wrapped him up better,” he said, sniffing. “It will attract attention,” he added, spinning slowly around.
“We will,” Angus promised as he knelt down and turned Teffles onto his side and gently shook the arm. Something jangled as it fell from the sleeve, and Angus let Teffles body drop back down. “Bring the flame a bit closer,” Angus requested. When Hobart did so, he reached for the flickering piece of metal on the ground. It was the key. He held it up and looked at Giorge.
“I wonder if there’s anything else in there,” Giorge said, dropping to his knees and violently shaking Teffles arm. But nothing more fell out of the compartment.
Angus put the key into the book’s lock and turned it. The metal snapped apart and the cover popped open.
Hobart moved in beside him and held the makeshift torch close enough for both of them to see what was written there. “What does it say?” he asked. “I can’t read.”
“Property of Teffles, Wizard of the First Order. These are my spells,” Angus said. “It’s written in rather shaky lettering, considering he was a wizard.”
“Why does that matter?” Giorge said. “I thought everyone had shaky handwriting.”
Angus shook his head. “No,” he said. “Wizards have to be precise when they depict the knots they have to make. There are numerous subtle differences based upon a small collection of master runes, and a slight difference can change a spell in unforeseeable ways. Sometimes,” he paused and shook his head. “Sometimes, the changes are disastrous, both for the wizard and those around him. Voltari always told me that an imprecise hand reflects an imprecise mind. It was weeks before Voltari was satisfied enough with my penmanship to let me begin scribing scrolls.”
“What’s this ‘First Order’ business?” Hobart asked. “What order are you?”
“I don’t belong to an order,” Angus said. “They relate to the wizard schools. Voltari was a freelancer; he didn’t run a school. A First Order designation indicates he was a beginner when he wrote that note. The schools go up to the Sixth Order before reaching Master status. The Grand Master is the overseer of the wizard school, and he defines the range of magic being taught within it. A lot of First Orders abandon the art because of the difficulties involved. If his spells were only First Order ones, they won’t be very powerful. Still, I won’t know that until I study them, and this lighting is insufficient for doing so. It will have to wait.”
“At least you got it open,” Giorge said.
“Let’s get back to the fire,” Hobart said. “This stick is getting a bit warm.”
“All right,” Angus said. “Is there anything else a banner does that you haven’t told me about?”
“Exploring ruins, defending villagers, a lot of traveling,” Hobart said. “That pretty much covers it.”
“Don’t forget the odd job here and there,” Giorge offered. “You know how it is, Angus, when our coffers get emptied and need to be refilled.”
“The caravans,” Hobart clarified. “We had to work with one last year. They always need mercenaries. But at least it was only for part of the way.”
“So,” Angus asked. “What are you offering me and what to do you expect in return for it?”
“Equal shares,” Hobart said at once. “After the upkeep.”
“Upkeep?” Angus asked.
“Whatever treasure or payment we receive,” Hobart said, “goes first to taxes, then to tending the needs of our horses, purchasing supplies, and mending what needs mended.”
“Tell him about the armor,” Giorge smirked. “Last time he got it repaired, it cost half the fee we were paid.”
“It needed it,” Ortis said as Hobart tossed the burning piece of firewood into the fire.
“I generally tend to my armor myself,” Hobart said, “but it had a hole in it. I had to have a blacksmith repair it. At least I put off fixing the dent in my helmet, didn’t I?”
Giorge grinned, “I thought it was a fashion statement.”
Hobart groaned and shook his head. “No self-respecting soldier would walk around with their helm dented unless there were no choice.”
“Like I said,” Giorge began, chuckling.
Angus half-smiled and asked, “What else?”
“We split the responsibilities for the group. Ortis is our cook and sets up camp. He also scouts in the wilderness. Giorge is our scout for ruins, villages, and towns. He’s got a kind of charm about him that strangers find infective.”
“So do you,” Giorge countered, grinning, “when it comes to soldiers.”
Hobart’s armor clinked softy as he shrugged. “I know how to speak with them,” he said. “I was one for long enough.”
“Don’t be modest,” Ortis interjected. “Hobart is our spokesman. Whenever we need someone to negotiate, he’s the one who does it.”
“Ortis hunts and scavenges for edible plants,” Hobart continued. “Giorge and I aren’t that good at it, but we can fish with the best of them.”
“We see to the horses while Ortis is making camp,” Giorge added. “We’ll teach you what to do with them when you join us. Other than that, we do whatever needs to be done when it needs to be done. Each of us has our talents, and we use them for the collective good.”
Ortis chuckled. “Really?” he said. “And yet, you didn’t tell us about the book or the wand.”
“I was going to,” Giorge protested. “Don’t I always?”
“So you say,” Ortis said. “But it is of no consequence at the moment.”
“What it boils down to,” Hobart finished, “is that we expect you to pull your weight, and when the time comes to use your special skills that you use them. If you do that, then you’re entitled to an equal share of whatever profits there are from the venture.”
“Reasonable enough on the surface,” Angus said. “What if one of us pulls considerably more than his weight? Are there special considerations?”
“For the most part, it equals out over time. Ortis’s hunting ability and bows were invaluable in our latest escapade with the wolves, but without my idea to use Ribaldo’s body as bait, we wouldn’t have succeeded. In populated areas, Giorge is notoriously crafty, a skill that has served us quite well on many occasions. My contacts in the army have provided us with many opportunities and allies. What you will bring is yet to be determined—except, of course, your magic.”
“Isn’t that enough?” Angus asked. “After all, without it, you would not have found the wand or opened this book.”
“So you’ve told us,” Hobart said. “And we have heard it. Still, you must prove yourself useful in battle before we will be fully convinced of your value. We are, after all, taking a chance in asking you to join us, but I believe it is a chance worth taking.”
“All right,” Angus said. “What else?”
“One last thing,” Hobart said. “If you join our banner, you will have to remain with us for a minimum of two years. That’s non-negotiable. After that, you can leave at any time, provided you give us ample notice.”
Two years? “All right,” Angus said. “Here are my terms. First, I keep the wand and this book even if I decide to leave after two years.”
“That’s reasonable,” Hobart said, “provided you use them to contribute to our success while you are with us. We’ll simply deduct their value from your share of the treasure we acquire until a fair price has been established.”
“Agreed,” Angus nodded. “Second, I’ll need a different horse. Max is too skittish for my tastes.”
br /> “Give him some time,” Hobart said. “You’ll get used to it.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Angus said. “If I need to cast a spell while on horseback, the horse must be stable. Max isn’t.”
“Perhaps we can find you a calm old nag,” Giorge offered, “when we get to Hellsbreath.”
“It would be better if it were one trained for cavalry,” Hobart offered. “They aren’t skittish at all in battle.”
“I could let you use one of mine for the time being,” Ortis offered. “They’re stable enough for shooting arrows, and I can ride Max until we reach Hellsbreath.”
“Third,” Angus said. “We stay in Hellsbreath long enough for me to learn more about the wand and to study Teffles’ spells.”
“How long do you think that will take?” Hobart asked. “Our funds at the moment are somewhat limited.”
“I can’t say,” Angus replied. “A minimum of at least two or three weeks. Probably longer.”
“Well,” Hobart hedged. “We can’t promise that long, but we’ll do our best.”
“I can pay my own way,” Angus said. “But I must insist on this. Magic is a complicated affair, and it takes a great deal of concentration to learn it. I can’t do that effectively while we’re traveling, and firelight like this is inadequate for reading. Once I have an understanding of the wand, I’ll be able to use it more effectively. As for the spells, I will have to learn each one of them separately, and if they are more complicated than those of the typical First Order student, it will take a considerable amount of time. However, once I have