No Good Deed

"Do you recall, when we first arrived in Harburg, that enormous coat of arms of his that hung over the door to the chapel?"

"Of course. I would have to be blind to have missed it."

"Something about it seemed strange to me, but it wasn't until I got a second look that I figured out what it was. Those arms are a forgery, and possibly one that was produced under duress."

"How can you tell such a thing merely by looking at them?"

"Heraldry has a code, Sister. Being able to recognize noble families by their arms is part and parcel of a paladin's training, and thus the rules of heraldry are drilled into our memory. The fact that I, a paladin of the Queen's Guard, did not recognize Erick's arms at first glance was somewhat surprising. But the fact that they feature, to use the vernacular, a blue bend over a red field is a violation of the Rule of Tincture."

"I freely admit that my knowledge of heraldry can not match that of a paladin of the Queen's Guard, but I am afraid that I do not see your point."

"The Rule of Tincture is one of the central laws of heraldic design, and the only thing you need to know about it is that it the Queen's heralds have never and will never register arms that break the rules like that. In fact, no herald anywhere in this kingdom who valued their reputation would dare even produce such a coat of arms, never mind attempt to register it."

"How did Erick manufacture such a design for himself, then?"

"An excellent question. Erick did not have a proper herald in Harburg; otherwise his entrances would have been more competently announced. I suspect those arms were produced either by bribe or extortion, and whoever did so knew exactly what they were doing when they violated the code. Erick obviously does not know of the error or he would not display his arms quite so proudly, and the fact that he doesn't know the code well enough to have someone forge him a proper set of arms was nearly enough for me to be certain he was not the Lord he claimed to be."

"Nearly?"

"Actually, the final blow was struck by our hobgoblin friends. You recall that awful tapestry of Erick that hung in the great hall, yes? It featured a family tree, images of his ancestors, and so forth. Among the atrocities depicted was an image of his grandfather fighting the Battle of Grendor."

"The name is familiar, but I unable to say why."

Samuel smiled. "I wouldn't expect you to recall your military history that clearly, Sister; I certainly didn't. It wasn't until I met the Lady Kalath and became more acquainted with her scars that I remembered that the Battle of Grendor was fought a mere eleven years ago. Now I was too young for the Guard at the time, of course, but it's even more impossible for Erick's grandfather to have fought in that battle, since according to the dates on that tapestry, he died nearly thirty years before it happened."

"A keen observation, Samuel, and a fascinating conclusion. I'm impressed."

"And now you must answer a question for me, Isobel."

"That would seem fair."

"Erick rode out of town on an illusionary horse, did he not?"

"I believe he did, yes."

"At the time, you were in the great hall with me, while Aedix was in front of the building providing the illusion of smoke and sounds of battle."

"Also correct."

"Then who cast the illusion that produced the horse?"

"I did, of course."

"But you told me that your ability to cast spells outside your line of sight was rather limited. I don't mean to cast aspersions on your abilities as a mage, but if you weren't watching him go, how far could Erick have gotten before the spell fell apart and he realized what happened?"

"Evoking an illusory horse in the stables while I was still inside the hall was not trivial by any means, but the feat lies well within my abilities. But it is Erick himself that determines the answer to your question."

Samuel fell quiet for a moment as he contemplated what Isobel had said. "At what point in your studies with the Order did they teach you how not to answer a direct question?"

"It's quite early in the Academy curriculum, actually. But I am sure you must have taken that same course; your skills would rival the most inscrutable of my colleagues."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You may do so," she said, the corners of her mouth hinting at a smile. "To fully understand the answer to your question would require several years of study, but I believe that I may be able to elucidate somewhat. You see, the true power of an illusion lies in belief. An effective illusion is one that the victim wants to believe; by contrast, an illusion that is hard to believe is easy to see through. Likewise, an illusion that only varies slightly from reality is much more effective than one that changes things dramatically. "

"So when two hobgoblins burst through the door, it was easy to believe there was actually a fight going on outside."

"More or less. Aedix expended most of his energy producing the sounds from outside in a way that seemed plausible while you and I distracted Erick inside. Once Trokdon broke down the door, the rest was fairly straightforward."

"Even the horse?"

"You convinced Erick that his conspiracy had been exposed and that he had no choice other than to leave town, or stay to face arrest and trial. He therefore very much wanted there to be a good horse waiting for him in the stables, an assumption that was assisted by the actual presence of a nag that was barely suitable for riding."

"I'll tell Gerald you said so."

"Please don't."

"Speaking of which, what about Gerald? He was part of the plan the whole time; why didn't that break the spell?"

"Gerald knew the horse was an illusion, but he wanted Erick gone so badly that he simply had no reason not to believe the plan would work. Therefore, the horse was real to him."

"That logic is so circular I'm afraid I've turned around and am riding back to Harburg."

"I promise you we are still riding towards home. Unlike Erick."

"Okay, so the goblin mage made it sound like there was a fight outside, and my little dance with Trokdon and Kalath helped make that real. I convinced Erick to leave town, so that made the illusionary horse seem real. Back to my original question, then; how far do you think he got?"

"Given the strong dislike he developed for us over the course of a few days, the ways in which stealing 'our' horse would feed both his natural greed and his desire to get revenge on us, as well as the compelling falsehoods you told him--"

"Isobel!" exclaimed Samuel with exaggerated outrage. "I am a paladin! We do not tell falsehoods. We merely bend the truth, somewhat, when it serves the Queen's purposes."

"I see. Regardless, I estimate that he rode for quite some time before the power of the spell ran out. He may well have reached the river crossing before his steed turned back into a child's wooden toy."

"Turned back into... wait, if the horse doesn't actually exist, how could he travel that far that fast?"

Isobel sighed. "If you wish to enroll in some Theory of Illusion courses at the Academy, I would be more than happy to write you a recommendation when we return to the capital. In the meanwhile..."

"Yes?"

"I would appreciate it if you could rein in your enthusiasm."

"Are you accusing me of trying to stirrup trouble?"

"I am saying that you always make yourself the centaur of attention."

"Not so. We helped end the village's long night mare."

"I do believe we have left them in a more stable situation."

"As for Erick, do you suppose he'll try again in a neigh-boring village?"

"No, I am sure we have put him out to pasture."

Samuel finally cracked, unable to stop his laughter at their wordplay.

The setting sun threw a splash of color across the sky, and the birds in the trees kept them company as they set up camp and prepared a fire. Fresh fruits and dried meats made up their dinner, and afterwards Isobel revealed a bottle of spirits that Trokdon had presented to her before they parted ways. Full stomachs and strong alcohol quickly put them in a restful mood.

"In all seriousness, Samuel, thank you for your help. This journey would not have been the same without you."

"It was my pleasure, Isobel. It may be the paladin's calling to assist the Queen's subjects wherever possible, but I have also greatly enjoyed your company."

"In doing a good deed for Harburg, then, it would seem we have both served our purposes here."

"I believe you are correct. But you know what they say about good deeds."

"Indeed I do. Now, how would you feel about being introduced to a student of mine...?"