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    The Magical Stranger
    The Magical Stranger
    The Magical Stranger
    Ebook198 pages2 hours

    The Magical Stranger

    By Robert Collins

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    About this ebook

    Dal, a thief, has come to Romallia, the seat of power for the kingdom of the same name, looking to steal a fortune. Before he gets the chance, he’s ordered to investigate the often-absent Royal Wizard. This “innocent” mission sends Dal across the sea to a desert land. He has to deal with a magical ship, lizard folk, plotting courtiers, and a pesky Princess.

    Will Dal get to steal anything? Will he get paid anything? Will he survive his adventure with his wits and life intact?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRobert Collins
    Release dateAug 1, 2020
    ISBN9781005264505
    The Magical Stranger
    Author

    Robert Collins

    Two people with different cultural backgrounds and ethnicities met at a European and Balkan music and dance ensemble named Koroyar and their lives became intertwined, combining their gifts to continue exploring life as an avenue of creative expression. Robert Collins has a Bachelor of Arts in Anthropology, and has been an educator in the Los Angeles area for thirty years. He studied writing with Joan Oppenheimer in San Diego, with Cork Millner privately, and also in the Santa Barbara Writer's Conferences. Elizabeth Herrera Sabido, at the age of sixteen years, began working as a secretary at the Secretaria de Industria y Comercio in Mexico City where she was born, then she was an educator for twenty-six years, and a teacher of international dance for The Los Angeles Unified School District. She has also studied Traditional Chinese Medicine, and is a Reiki Master Teacher. Attracted by the Unknown, the Forces of the Universe, and the human psyche, during their lives they have studied several different philosophies. Elizabeth has been involved with various religions, Asian studies, and Gnosticism with SamaelAun Weor, and Robert has explored spiritual healing practices in Mexico, and studied with Carlos Castaneda's Cleargreen and Tensegrity. Elizabeth and Robert start their day at four-thirty in the morning. They enjoy playing volleyball and tennis, and in the afternoons play music, alternating between seven different instruments each. Their philosophy of Personal Evolution has led them to explore over 110 countries between the two of them such as Japan, Nepal, Egypt, Bosnia- Herzegovina, the Philippines, Turkey,Russia, etc.

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      Book preview

      The Magical Stranger - Robert Collins

      THE MAGICAL STRANGER

      by

      Robert Collins

      Ebook Edition

      Copyright © 2020 by Robert Collins

      License Notes, eBook edition

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      TABLE OF CONTENTS

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      Chapter 18

      ABOUT THE AUTHOR

      Chapter 1

      Dal was in jail, and it annoyed him.

      He was a thief, but he wasn’t the sort of thief that tended to spend time in jail. Snatchers who tried taking coins from coin purses usually spent some time in jail. Bandits on the road, if they weren’t run down like dogs or killed in a scrap, they’d spend time in jail.

      But not those like him. They were either hired to slip into a place and slip out or they slipped in on their own. There was a target in their heads, just one object, that they were there to take. They learned to be masters of quiet, of locks, and of disappearing into the shadows. They knew how to read, how to search, and how to ask questions.

      Dal had learned his trade from one of the best. He didn’t want to be a rough of the streets. He was more interested in using his mind and his fingers rather than his muscles. He’d been at this perhaps ten years, between a third and half of his life, and he’d gotten good at his trade. Which is why getting caught troubled him so much.

      He thought back about the job. The tip on the house seemed good. The house was big enough to contain objects of value. From the outside it didn’t appear to have any special traps.

      Yet it did. Nothing lethal, of course. No one much like dealing with dead bodies. No, not lethal, just sticky. Sticky and unable to withdraw.

      What he couldn’t figure out, though he turned the matter over in his mind several times, what how such a trap had come to be at that house. It couldn’t have been there all that long. Time and rain would have washed it away. In just a week it would have become damned inconvenient to the owner of the house. It didn’t make any sense.

      Nor did it make sense that he was in a jail in the cellar of the castle all by himself. The soldiers had moved him past occupied cells and a few vacant cells to this one. As far as he knew, Romallia didn’t have any special punishments for thieves, even thieves like him. Certainly there weren’t any special law on the treatment of thieves like him. He kept trying to add the numbers in his head, and no matter what, one and one and one kept coming up as blue.

      After sleeping past dawn and getting some gruel for his morning meal, Dal had a visitor. The man the soldiers escorted to his cell was of average height and weight. He was dressed in a clean red shirt, black leggings, and polished boots. He wore the silver seal of the kingdom on a chain around his neck. His dark hair was trimmed and his face cleanly shaved. He appeared to have the slightly-tanned skin of those who lived along the coast of the Warm Blue Sea.

      You are Dal, the man said in a deep but nasal voice.

      Would it help if I denied it? Dal replied.

      We know who you are.

      Who? Dal pointed at the man and the soldiers. Just the three of you?

      The man smiled. More than that. Not much more, of course.

      Of course.

      The man turned to the two soldiers. Keep us from being heard. The soldiers nodded to him and stomped away.

      The man unlocked the cell. He made a show of taking the key and putting in a coin purse on his belt. He stepped inside the cell. I hope you don’t mind, but we need to speak in some confidence.

      Dal grinned. Speaking of confidence, you’re pretty certain I won’t break out.

      You’d have two soldiers to contend with just outside this cell, then two more at the door. Assuming you could unlock the door.

      I could get friends to help.

      The man shook his head. One key, one cell door. Your tools were taken from you when you were arrested.

      Dal stood up and stood straight. Arrested for entering a house. I wasn’t aware that was a crime in Romallia.

      You were required. That was the only way.

      There had been times in Dal’s young life when he’d been walking along a street, keeping to himself, his mind working on this or that, and he’d run into the back of someone, or almost gotten run over by a wagon. Not only did his body take a tumble at those moments, but so did his mind. His thoughts were tossed into the air and came down anywhere. He usually also ended up smelling a bit more foul for the experience.

      He had the same feeling in the cell, except for having fallen in mud or worse in a street. For a moment or two his mind was a jumble. He leaned against the wall, shook his head a couple of times, then finally accepted that what he’d heard he really had heard.

      Required? Me? Why?

      The man gave a bow of his head. I am Murelius, Royal Treasurer of the Kingdom of Romallia.

      Pleased to meet you, Dal said, troubled that his statement ended up sounding like a question.

      I require your services for the benefit of His Majesty and the kingdom.

      Yes?

      First, though, some information that may encourage you. His Majesty feels that thieves are too rampant in the city.

      It’s a big city.

      It’s the largest city in the known world. That covers quite a bit of ground.

      So does the city.

      Murelius huffed out a breath. Romallia’s influence is great, just as the kingdom is great. Wealth and trade give us actual power as well as influence. What is done here is often done elsewhere, because following Romallia tends to work out well.

      So long as you’re not taking over other lands.

      Murelius smiled. Conquest is expensive and bad for business. Trade is profitable and good for business.

      We can agree on that.

      Good. As I said, His Majesty is concerned about thieves running wild.

      It’s hardly that bad.

      Perhaps, but those who complain about loss from theft have voices that are heard in the Royal Court.

      Perhaps they could talk less and give more to the poor.

      That would be too easy.

      Dal snorted. Rich men say that but they never try it.

      Would it work on you?

      Dal shrugged. I have talents that I can put to use in a variety of ways.

      Perhaps not if His Majesty makes his present thinking the law.

      What’s his present thinking?

      Perhaps if thieves started losing fingers or hands, they’d keep them to themselves.

      Dal’s jaw clenched. That’s not a good thought.

      Somehow I knew you’d say that.

      No, I mean it. Your King does that, and soon it’ll be chaos in the streets.

      Chaos?

      Chaos. Street thieves don’t mind a month, a season, or even a year in jail if the take it worth it, or if they have to eat. Up the risk to maiming, and either they’ll go hungry, or they’ll go from just snatching coins to beating and killing to get coins. Why do you think bandits on the road can be vicious at times? The rougher ones get the noose, so they act like they’ve got nothing to lose. Live for the day and die when it’s your time, and all that.

      Would it interest you to know that others think His Majesty’s notion isn’t a good one?

      I should hope so.

      At least one of those others also pointed you out.

      Someone ratted me out? Who?

      Murelius smiled again. The brother of my lover.

      She has a brother who’s a criminal?

      He does, yes.

      Oh. What’s his name?

      Murelius grinned and shook his head. I’m not that foolish, Dal. You’ll not get those names from me. Not unless you do as I ask, and grant quite a few assurances as well.

      Worth a try. What do you want me to steal?

      Murelius stopped smiling and pressed his lips together. It’s not so much what I want you to steal, as it is what I want you to find out.

      Find out?

      Yes. How much do you know about the Royal Court?

      I know you’re part of the Royal Court.

      Anything else?

      Nothing is coming to mind at the moment. I thought your lover’s brother told you all about me.

      He did.

      Then he must have told you that I’m new to the city and the kingdom.

      So new that you know nothing about the Royal Court?

      Dal smiled. I’m not from these parts, if you hadn’t already been told.

      Murelius shrugged. Very well. Then I take it you’re not aware that His Majesty employs a wizard.

      That I do know.

      What else do you know about the fellow?

      I suppose he must be good to be working for a King.

      He’s adequate to the task.

      Is that all?

      He hasn’t done as much for His Majesty as we would like.

      Hire a better wizard.

      Murelius shook his head again. You don’t understand. He hasn’t done much because the man has no talent. He’s above average, as wizards go.

      How would you know?

      Travel and trade and all that. Word gets here from all over. A few kingdoms have better wizards, but most have fellows with just a few spells to their name. That’s what makes Zigerus above most but not all.

      Fair enough. Dal tilted his head to the right. He hasn’t done as much? Is he lazy?

      That’s what we’re not certain of. Zigerus is living quite well. In fact, he seems to have come into somewhat more wealth that what His Majesty is paying him.

      You’re upset that he has work on the sly?

      We don’t know what he has on the sly. He’s not at home, for days at a time, yet no one sees Zigerus leave the city.

      Dal blinked. Wait. He’s getting coins. He’s away from home, but no one sees him leave his home.

      Murelius arched an eyebrow. That is what I said. Almost exactly.

      Dal raised his hands. What I mean is, has no one thought to check his home for secret tunnels?

      There are no secret tunnels under the city.

      How can you be sure?

      We do have small earthquakes every now and again. If there were tunnels all over the city, buildings would fall into them.

      Every now and again.

      Possibly every time.

      Dal nodded. That would tend to discourage tunneling.

      It is safe to build under some structures, so long as everything is properly reinforced. No, for Zigerus to have a tunnel he’d have to done a great deal of digging.

      Digging.

      I thought it through when the matter came up in the Royal Court the day before yesterday. Zigerus would have to hire men to do the digging, or he’d have to use magic. Either way, he’d be turning up a great deal of rock and soil. Where in the name of the Gods would he put it? And if he hired men, they’d be coming in and out constantly. All that activity would probably disturb his neighbors.

      Probably.

      Even if he used magic to dig, how would the tunnel be supported?

      Oh, right.

      He’d have material brought in. More activity.

      More complaints from the neighbors.

      Exactly.

      Dal let out a breath. So if he’s not taking a tunnel, how’s he getting out of the city?

      That’s what I want you to find out.

      Wait. You want me to break into the house of a wizard?

      Got it in one.

      Dal shook his head. I was just tossed in here for trying to break into a house.

      You won’t get tossed in here a second time.

      No, I’ll be dead.

      Perhaps. But I can assure you that if you find out what Zigerus is up to, and bring that information to me, His Majesty won’t have you punished. Indeed, you might get the chance to persuade him just how bad maiming criminals would be for the city.

      That’s hardly reassuring.

      You’ll also be paid ten gold upon completion of this errand. You’ll be pardoned for any crimes committed in Romallia.

      Pardoned? For everything?

      Everything you tell us about.

      Dal wiggled a finger. Only what you know.

      Fine.

      So, ten gold upon completion? What do I do until then?

      I can spare you ten silver from the treasury. You can pay for your room, scout the home, and do whatever else you have to.

      Dal pondered the offer. Ten silver could get him out of the city without much effort. It wouldn’t be much harder to get him out of the kingdom. Beyond that, though, he’d be back to where he was when he arrived in the city, with a few silver and a few copper and no immediate prospects for work.

      What are you wanting me to find out, exactly? he asked.

      Murelius shook his head. If I new that I wouldn’t be hiring you.

      I know that, Dal snapped. I mean, what do you need? Documents? The banner of a rival King? Or would my word alone be good enough?

      Murelius opened his mouth, paused, then spoke.

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