Mage Quest - Wizard of Yurt 3 by C. Dale Brittain Read Free Book Online

realized he meant Evrard. But if he had seen much more of Evrard in the last few years than I had, I thought I stil knew the red-headed wizard better. “Didn’t your wizard ever tel you that he’d decided to study wizardry in the first place because he was fascinated by the history of how wizards had stopped the Black Wars?” Hugo didn’t answer, which I took as an affirmative.
    “I don’t doubt your courage, Hugo,” I continued. I thought, but decided it would be tactful not to say, that he was stil young enough that his own death would not seem a real possibility to him. “And there wil be ample opportunity on this trip for you to show it. But if you don’t mind putting yourself in danger, you might at least think about the bandit leader. You would have kiled him if he weren’t wearing armor.”
    “It’s nice armor, too,” said Hugo thoughtfuly, “much higher quality than you’d expect to see on a highwayman. It’s even better than mine. I wonder if it would fit me.” I was not about to be distracted. “Doesn’t death seem like a rather stiff penalty for trying to rob a silk caravan?”
    “Don’t go al moralistic!” Hugo cried. “The castelan to whom we’re taking these bandits may wel hang them al if they’re multiple offenders. I know King Haimeric never hangs anybody, but justice is sharper a lot of places outside of Yurt.”
    “You stil can’t act as judge and executioner yourself,” I said sternly. I was rapidly starting to feel out of my depth. Since I, unlike Evrard, had not become a wizard out of fascination with the end of the Black Wars, and because Yurt realy was very peaceful, I tended not to think about the morality of judicial execution or, for that matter, much about deep moral issues at al.
    “Even the Church recognizes kiling in self-defense and the possibility of a just war,” said Hugo.
    “This was not self-defense,” said Joachim.
    I had been wondering when the chaplain was going to join this conversation. Priests were supposed to worry about morality. Wizards just try to keep as many people as possible alive and wel.
    “And kiling someone,” Joachim continued soberly, “even in self-defense or to save another innocent life, stil leaves a stain on the soul.” Hugo, who had turned toward the chaplain, seemed abashed. I myself stil found Joachims burning dark eyes intimidating. “Wel, I didn’t kil him and I didn’t mean to kil him.” I expected he was teling the perfect truth—at al the tournaments in which he had taken part, everyone would have been wearing armor and he would not have even thought about the effects of a razor-sharp sword on a man who did not have mail under his cloak.
    But I was tired of worrying about morality. So when Hugo suddenly looked up and said, “What a castle!” in an entirely different voice, I was happy to change the subject.
    And it was quite a castle. Among the tumbled hils before us rose a high ridge of red sandstone, at least a hundred feet tal. Cut into the sandstone were narrow windows; perched on top, staring sternly down at the fields surrounding it, was the castle itself. Pennants whipping in the wind from the tops of the towers looked tiny, making us realize how high the castle realy was.
    We al puled up for a better look. The castle was so wel situated for war that we were momentarily stunned. “It would be impregnable,” said Ascelin. “There’s no way to scale the sandstone cliffs, especialy with men inside shooting out. And I expect the stairs inside, going up to the castle, are very narrow and could easily be blocked against an enemy.”
    “I’m sure the castelan does indeed have rights of high justice,” commented the king with a chuckle.
    The castle rose higher and higher above us as we approached. Encircling the base of the sandstone ridge was a tal curtain wal, also built of red stone, but the gate stood open. Two soldiers stepped forward menacingly as we approached.
    “Greetings,” said the king. “We