A Clash of Magics by Guy Antibes (e ink manga reader txt) 📗

of the day preparing for his trip. Win showed up and eagerly agreed to come along.

“I wish I could take Siranda, but that time will come. We’ve talked about returning to Presidon often enough, but Azar always cautioned me that your mother was my enemy as well as yours.”

Chapter Thirty-One

~

W in and Trevor left Jiksara, heading east, taking the same path through the gold mining valley where Trevor had fought two battles. Mining had returned to the high valley, and Win and Trevor quickly traversed the mountainous area heading directly east to Presidon.

It had been a long time since Trevor had been on the eastern side of his home country. The territory was split into dukedoms, and Trevor didn’t have any idea about existing alliances, but King Henry had always given his nobles a lot of leeway in handling their domains. In that, King Worto was similar in managing his aristocracy to Trevor’s father.

He stayed to the main road through the east and entered Presidon using Volst’s name and identity papers. Win had documents with his wife’s last name of Zutterak instead of Fenton. They stayed at a nondescript inn on the southern side of a small town. Trevor took care of Snowflake at the shabby stable.

“We are two out-of-work warriors,” Trevor told the old stablemaster. “Once the Maskumites were defeated, we were cut out. The Viksarans didn’t even give us a bonus.” Trevor continued to complain until it was plain the stablemaster didn’t want to hear anymore.

Trevor shared a room, and they had to put clean sheets on their beds themselves. “There won’t be Zinkel’s ale here,” Trevor said.

Win smiled. “You and your Zinkel’s ale. The world doesn’t revolve around that stuff. Siranda and I usually drink fruity wine. She’s gotten me hooked on the stuff.

“You won’t find any of that here either,” Trevor said. “I’d guess most of what they sell in this inn is halfway to vinegar.”

“Then we should find a pub. You’d like to know what’s happened to Presidon in the past two years, wouldn’t you?”

“It’s almost been that long,” Trevor said. “It seems like two decades, sometimes.” He stood. “Let’s find a suitable drinking establishment.”

They walked through the town’s streets in the middle of the afternoon and arrived at the town square, where they spotted a decent-looking place. The pair of them sat down and ordered some ale.

Trevor took a long pull on the mug. “It isn’t Zinkel’s, but it is definitely Presidonian-made. It reminds me of home.”

“We are home,” Win said quietly.

Trevor pursed his lips. “We are, aren’t we?” He looked around the pub and felt comfortable. Presidon had a feel all its own, like every country, he had learned. “I suppose I should relish this visit,” he said. “For some reason, I’m still not at ease.”

“And I won’t be either until I see my mother,” Win said.

Trevor nodded. A group of men dressed more like merchants entered the pub and sat down next to them. Win ordered lamb stew for both of them along with a loaf of their freshest bread. Trevor hoped it would be fresh, anyway. He leaned back, taking a swig of ale, and listened. The men seemed to be in a complaining mood when their drinks were delivered.

“Another Dryden-damned tax!” one of them began. “This time, Hyra included shoes. I wonder what burr got under the queen’s saddle this time. My profits will be cut in half with this one.”

Another nodded. “I know what you mean. I hope Princess Lilith will bring Queen Hyra to her senses yet again. If it wasn’t for the daughter, I’m sure there would be a revolt.”

“What does the woman do with all the tax money?” the first man said. “It doesn’t get spent on roads or bridges or feeding the poor.”

“I heard Tarviston castle is becoming more tattered. It’s madness. It almost makes you want to have King Henry back.”

“Almost,” another said. “At least my daughter can learn some magic.”

“How is your daughter doing?” one of the merchants said.

The conversation turned to personal matters, and the stew came, forcing Trevor’s attention back to Win.

“This isn’t bad,” Win said, slathering some bread ripped from a loaf with butter from a crock placed on the table. “Try the butter. It’s salted and seasoned with herbs.”

Trevor did as Win suggested. The bread was fresh, and the butter and gravy-soaked bread was just the thing a traveling soldier would appreciate, he thought.

They had their fill and helped themselves to more ale. Trevor watched the merchants leave the pub as the serving maid came for their empty stew bowls.

“It looks like you appreciated the cook’s work,” she said. The woman pushed back a stray strand of brown hair going gray.

“We have newly arrived from Viksar,” Trevor said. “I overheard the men at the next table complaining about your queen. Is there something we have to watch out for when we go to Tarviston?”

“Why would you go to the capital?”

Win shrugged. “We were mustered out of the Viksaran army after fighting in Maskum.”

The server put her tray down on the table and sat down. “Maskum. What is that like?”

Trevor smiled and told her about Khartoo and the magician’s enclave.

“We cleaned out the magicians who have been messing about with every ruler in the world,” Win said.

“Don’t you have to get back to work?” Trevor asked.

“Look around you. The place is emptying and won’t fill up again until suppertime and beyond. I own the place, anyway. Tell me more. I’ll bet Queen Hyra is under the influence of some evil wizard with the hodgepodge of taxes and proclamations. I don’t know how her daughter puts up with it. Every outrageous tax eventually gets canceled by Princess Lilith, but not until the queen has squeezed more money out of us citizens. It