Fistandantilus Reborn - Douglas Niles [8]
The ghostly vision danced laughingly away as Paulus lunged after his son. “After that time, you might get him back. And if you come after him, know that you shall be struck blind, and he will be killed.”
With a gust of wind, the ghost whirled away, carrying the baby through an opened window and out of sight in the darkened skies.
The pair charged out the door, but already the apparition-and the child-had vanished into the night air.
“Where did they go?” The young mother’s question was an anguished wail. “Where did that thing take my baby?”
Paulus, frantic with grief and fear, knew the answer.
“The Black Kite!” He whispered the exclamation, as all citizens of Haven whispered when they mentioned the name of the feared and hated wizard. “This was his work!”
“But why did he come here-why us?” Belinda turned to him, seizing him by the shoulders. “And why would he take Dany?”
“He wants me-he wants power over me,” Paulus declared, stunned by the realization. “I should have expected this. He holds all this corner of Haven in his thrall.”
“You can’t matter-not to him!”
“I can.” Paulus was beginning to understand. “I know that Revrius Frank is forced to pay him, though he never speaks of it. Indeed, he’s ashamed of the fact. But the Black Kite takes his steel and leaves him otherwise alone.”
“Then why did he take Dany?”
“Because I was a fool,” Paulus admitted, slumping in dejection. “I should have paid him.”
“No!” Belinda was suddenly adamant. “It’s more than that. He fears you. He knows you might stand up to him.”
His wife continued, speaking with firm conviction- and affection. “He knows what a stubborn, bullheaded fool you are, and he knows the reputation of your fists.”
Paulus flushed with shame, not wanting to recollect the part of his life spent brawling and fighting, but he knew that she was right.
“I won’t pay him,” he vowed. “But I’ll get Dany back for us, and I’ll see that Whastryk Kite is the one who pays.”
“But how can you? You heard him. You’d be struck blind as soon as you try to go in!”
“I know, but I have a plan.” Or at least, he amended privately, I will have a plan. Indeed, Paulus was no longer an impetuous man. Yet his son was gone, and he was certain that if he was going to save him, he would have to act fast.
Leaving his wife with a promise that he would be careful, Paulus went quickly to the smithy of Revrius Frank. There he spent several hours polishing to a high sheen the mirror of pure silver that he had been crafting for the garment maker. The reflective metal had been hammered so thin that it was of very light weight, easily transportable, and perfectly suited to the silversmith’s plan. Finally he attached a leather handle to the mirror’s back, ignoring the deep gouges he scored in the once immaculate frame.
Next the silversmith girded on a sword, suspending the weapon from his own belt, which was secured by a sturdy silver buckle of his own design. The metal clasp represented most of the saved wealth of his young family, and it seemed appropriate that he wore it now, when he went to fight for that family’s very survival.
It was a grimly determined Paulus Thwait who started through the streets toward the wizard’s home, which was a great mansion and compound that occupied a full block of the city. Black towers jutted from beyond a stone wall. The barrier was breached only in one place, by an arched gateway, an opening wide enough to allow passage of a large carriage.
The reputation of the place was well known to everyone in Haven.
There was no gate that ever closed across the entryway, but anyone who had entered there with hostile intentions had been met by the wizard, then struck blind by those searing darts that emanated from his eyes. Once sightless, the victim was usually captured or killed. Those who had been taken prisoner invariably vanished forever from the ken of the rest of humankind.
“Whastryk Kite! I demand the return of my son!”
Paulus loudly announced