Chapter 19 - Llewel’s Revenge.
High Elder Llewel, was now just poor old Wizard Llewel. His rise to fame and fortune was thwarted by his own incompetence, ineptitude, inability, inadequacy, incapability, incapacity, incompetence, insufficiency, and several other words beginning with ‘in’. Unfortunately, that is not the way he viewed matters pertaining to his downfall. The small squeaky-voiced wizard was now even more obnoxious than before. Now he was vengeful, vindictive, spiteful, malicious, mean, resentful, and wanting to get even. He blamed everyone but himself for what had happened. In total denial of his own responsibility, he blamed the Council of the High Elders, he blamed Flintock the Elder, he blamed Llewellyn the Brave, but most of all he blamed Tom. If only he knew his whole and proper name, he could have hexed him by now, but he didn’t. Or at least, if he did, he had forgotten it. He was sure he said his name was Private Jones, or perhaps Private Thomas Jones or maybe even Thomas Private Jones but saying his name in any combination had not worked up to now.
Following a short period of incarceration in the castle dungeons, he was released just twenty-four hours later. To him, it was a great injustice, a humiliation, and one which would not be forgotten or forgiven.
Now, just as had been predicted, he went around stirring up trouble for the Jones, especially for Tom and his dad. He would spout off to any who would listen, and many would.
“What has changed?” he would say, “the so-called wonder boy has been here for months now, nothing has changed, magic is still draining away from us. I tell you, the boy’s a fake. He has no magic of his own, I don’t even think he is Thomas Jones at all. For a start he’s not Llewellyn’s firstborn, Jonathan is, and we all know Jonathan knows no magic, not even a cantrip! If you ask me their father is just the same, Llewellyn the Brave? We’ve only got his word for it, no one ever saw him fighting dwarfs after all. For all we know he may have not even met one!”
“Thomas’ appearance before the Council of Elders was a complete sham. He couldn’t answer any of their questions in a coherent nature, kept changing his story every time. High Elder Aneta Stepanek knew the truth, but she wasn’t allowed to ask questions at all.
“Him and his brother went to the Dragonlands, they teamed up with some Blue Dragons and captured a Golden Dragon and her whelp, and then pinned the blame on poor old Arvel Mordecai.”
“If he were here now, I could prove my point. The boy has no magic and neither does his brother, firstborn of Llewellyn the coal miner!”
Unfortunately, in their world as in our own, if you say something often enough and with enough passion, people start to believe you. Then they start repeating the story, often adding their own embellishments. One was overheard saying...
“He’s been here for six months now, and things are now worse than ever. He’s not the firstborn like what the prophesy talks about. I’ve heard he’s not Llewellyn’s son at all.”
“You know he’s nowt but a common thief, he tried to keep the ring for himself. Took ‘em months to find him and then they had to remove the ring by force.”
...and another, “I heard he attacked a Golden Dragon with three Blue Dragons and killed her and her whelp. Shame on him, he should be banished for life. But instead, he stitched up poor old Marvin Mordecai, and he got sent down for twenty years hard labour in the quarries.”
He couldn’t even get Arvel’s name correct and the fact the quarries had not been worked for several hundred years was only a minor detail to be ignored!
Within a few weeks, half the land seemed to be turning against Tom and his family. They found it difficult to travel or even go to market, the boys were jostled and abused but as usual, no one said anything directly to Llewellyn because like all bullies, they were also cowards. But things were about to take a turn for the worse.
The two boys were in the city of Dolydd, where High Elder Brangwen Binning was in charge, who should they bump into but their old friend Llewel the loser, as they now called him. Tom was fuming when he saw him.
Oi Llewel!” Tom shouted, “why are you spreading lies about me and my family you horrid little wizard?”
Llewel remained calm and confident, now was his chance. Revenge at last. There was a good-sized crowd here, quite enough to cause quite a stir, enough to whip up a mob and cause a lot of trouble.
“I am only telling the truth boy," he said disparagingly with his whining sneery voice, “you have no real magic, and your brother here is a phobl. Huh! He could hardly muster a cantrip strong enough to light a match.
Jon held his staff aloft and a sheet of flame spread out in every direction above the heads of the crowd, hurting no one, and singeing nothing, but they all felt the heat.
“I think I lit that match quite well,” said Jon smugly.
“What is your problem Llewel?” asked Tom.
“My problem is, that since you arrived the magic has not only been slipping away, but it is also now leaving at a faster pace than ever before. Your job was to stop it!” he said jabbing his finger in their direction but as always keeping his distance.
“Well, mine is not diminishing, when I arrived in Trymyll I had no magic, didn’t even believe in magic,” the crowd gasped at such heresy, "my magic is growing daily along with Jon’s and several other true and trustworthy wizards. How is your magic?”
“How dare you ask me, a former High Elder, how my magic is doing! I’ll show you if you wish.”
With that he shot a bolt of energy straight at them, Jon banged his staff on the ground and they, and the immediate crowd were enclosed in a hemisphere of an impenetrable reflective shield, Llewel’s bolt ricocheted off and up into the air.
“Don’t be stupid Llewel, you could hurt or even kill someone doing that in a crowded place," Jon shouted.
“Oh, I intend to, but it will be you and your brother who will get hurt.”
“No Llewel, you can’t tell where a ricocheted shot will go. It won’t hit us, but it might hit someone else.”
“Then you will be to blame for defecting it won’t you.”
Even with the threat of imminent death or injury, the crowd was still cheering Llewel on and jeering at the boys.
“In that case, we lay down our staffs, we don’t want anyone to get hurt, not even you.”
Tom and Jon both laid their staffs on the ground where they turned into wands again. Even Llewel would not attack two unarmed boys, he was tempted but thought better of it. There is only so far he could carry the crowd.
“Quick, grab them and their wands. We will take them up to the castle and set them before my particularly good friend High Elder Brangwen Binning.”
The boys were set upon, jostled, bound, and escorted up to the castle with Llewel leading the triumphant procession.
“You won’t get away with this Llewel, we’ve done nothing wrong, and you know it!” Tom shouted.
“Don’t be so cocky boy, you attacked me in broad daylight and everyone here was a witness. Bangers Binning and I go way back, she is both judge and jury in Dolydd. I think I hold all the trump cards this time.
They were indeed taken before High Elder Brangwen Binning, as soon as Tom saw her, he remembered that she was the one who went off on one as soon as he had handed the ring over. So possibly not the best High Elder to be brought before.
After the formal greetings, Llewel started the proceedings.
“High Elder Binning, I was, as usual, minding my own business in the town this morning when I was accosted by these youths, shouting insults, and threatening me. When I tried to reason with them, they unleashed a bolt of energy which I was, of course, able to deflect away from the crowd with my superior magic. Before they could act again, the fine people of Dolydd putting themselves in great personal danger, managed to overpower and disarm them.”
High Elder Brangwen Binning eyed the boys up and down, "What do you have to say for yourselves?” she said with a malevolent sneer.
“That’s a lie, he attacked us, and we deflected the shot, and when we told him to stop in case someone got hurt, he just laughed and told us that would be our fault not his, so we laid down our wands. And....”
“Silence,” said Brangwen Binning, “how dare you call my fine wizard friend a liar. I’ve heard enough. Take them to the dungeons while I think about what to do with them or how to dispose of them. Attempted murder is a serious matter!”
Tom and Jon didn’t like the sound of that, but what could they do. No wands, no magic. They were taken down and down and down to what must have been a hundred feet below the ground and thrown, quite literally, into a cell. There was one candle, no other light as they were so deep below ground. Once that went out, they would be in complete and utter darkness.
Tom started to snivel, small tears falling onto his cheeks.
“If we had our wands, we could be out of here in a flash,” Jon said.
“If a wand is taken away unjustly, then it will return to its owner,” said Tom. Then in unison, they said it.
“Wand!” and their wands appeared.
“Right, let’s get out of here,” Jon said, “we’ll apparate back to Blaenoraid and tell dad what’s happened.”
They both visualised the place they called home and envisioned themselves being there, but nothing happened.
“Damn!” exclaimed Tom, “the walls, floor and roof must be run through with cold iron to stop people escaping. Now what?”
“Well, magic works in the cold iron cage, it just can’t get out of it. So, here’s an idea, only an idea mind you, so don’t get too excited. Next time a guard comes to check on us, just before he opens the peaky-hole thing, make ourselves disappear, invisible like, when he can’t see us in here, he’ll open the door to see where we’re hiding. With me so far?
“Yes," replied Tom.
“When he sees the dungeon is empty, he’ll run to get help or form a search party or whatever they do when someone escapes. Well, when he does that, we just slip out, find a way to the surface, and skedaddle. Plan or what?”
“Good plan apart from one thing. What if he slams the door shut as he runs out in panic?”
“Good point. Let me think," Jon thought for a while and then..., "the door opens inward and so it is then inside the cold iron cage and within our domain. As soon as the door opens, hex the lock to jam it so it won’t lock even if he slams the door.”
“Good one. But once we are outside the door, surely we could apparate from there?”
“Worth a try, if we can’t, just keep moving until we can,” Jon said.
After a couple of hours, a guard came along, "Governor wants you two back upstairs, it’s judgement day. Hope your wearing brown underpants...," He stopped mid-sentence, not bothering with the peaky-hole thing, he just swung open the door to be faced with an empty cell. He turned on his heels and ran off shouting.
“Escaped Prisoners! Call out the guard! Escaped Prisoners! Call out the guard!” leaving the door wide open.
“Well, that bit was easy. Let’s hope the next bit is as well,” Jon quipped.
No such luck, they stepped out, tried to apparate, nothing, "Right, stay visible so we can see each other, wands at the ready, let’s see how far we can get.”
They hurried off in the same direction they arrived in.
“Footsteps!” Jon whispered, “go invisible and float to the ceiling. Lie as flat as you can.”
Six guards ran down the corridor towards the dungeon as if to check that what the first guard had said was true.
“Split up and start searching,” the sergeant at arms shouted, “they can’t have got far ‘cos they ain’t got no wands.”
“We need a way out, quickly," Tom whispered, and then added as an aside, “got any ideas wand?” he hadn’t expected an answer, but he got one anyway. The wands changed to staffs and then flew off at high speed, the two boys hanging on for all they were worth. They flew straight into the guardroom, which fortunately was empty, over to the huge inglenook fireplace and then straight up the chimney. Whoosh, out into the fresh air. It was a dark night, pitch-black dark, they and their staffs were covered in soot, the perfect camouflage. No one saw their leaving or suspected a thing.
As soon as they were clear, there was a small pop as they apparated back to base in the depths of Blaenoraid.
Excitedly they told their dad about all that had happened.
“Revolting little man, and to think I was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. I think this needs sorting once and for all, I should involve the council, but that would mean involving Bangers Binning. Strange lady, in many ways far too political for a farmer, and yet she puts on her ‘Jolly Farmer’ facade for all to see. Never thought she would team up with Llewel though," Llewellyn stopped short of addressing him as Llewel the Loser.
“Yet not a word in his defence when Llewel returned to Blaenoraid and was called before the council. I wonder what she’s playing at. Surely, she’s not after the top job too?” Llewellyn said, mainly to himself.
Llewellyn knew who his main ally was. Aneta Stepanek, nothing was hidden from her.