Feeling distinctly uncomfortable under the wizard's intense gaze, Delbridge shifted his attention back to the knight.
"We have heard of you, and I must admit I am curious," said the knight at last, his voice low and aristocratic. "But be quick. I have heard many pleas this audience day and have grown weary."
Delbridge waved his arm for effect, fluttering his billowy sleeves. "I possess a gift, my lord, which the stars of my birth saw fit to bestow upon me. It is simply the ability to see the future. I am ready to place this power at your disposal. You would be warned in advance of dangers posed against yourself, your family, and your subjects."
The knight frowned. "I already have a mage who fulfills very nearly that role now."
"And I mean no slight or disrespect to him," cut in Delbridge quickly, "but even the greatest wizard's spells are limited in their ability to divine what will be and are restricted to a certain number per day. My power is not subject to the normal limitations of magic. It functions continuously, whenever I choose to exercise it."
"Do not disregard this out of hand, Father," advised the youth with a brief glance at the mage. "His words bear consideration." He turned his blue eyes on Delbridge. "Perhaps a little demonstration is in order, Mister-?"
"Omardicar the Omnipotent, young sir," Delbridge supplied quickly, boldly adding, "Ommi to clients and friends."
"I should like a demonstration as well," said Balcombe in a low, detached tone, his gaze unwavering.
"I would be happy to oblige," said Delbridge. "However, you must understand that my gift does have its peculiarities. I must concentrate on a particular event or person, and if anything unusual or of interest lies in its future, I experience a vision detailing it. If there is nothing of interest-" He shrugged.
"How conveniently simple," said Balcombe. "Do you expect His Lordship to simply accept what you say and put you on the payroll?"
"He said he would try to demonstrate," said Rostrevor tersely.
Balcombe bowed his head slightly.
Frowning again, Lord Curston looked from Rostrevor to Balcombe. "I wish, as always, that my beloved son and my most trusted adviser were not perpetually at odds," he sighed.
"We are not at odds, my lord," said the mage. "We both desire a demonstration of this man's supposed power. We disagree only in how rigorous such a test ought to be."
The room fell uncomfortably silent. Sensing that this tension did not bode well for his prospects, Delbridge said, "With your permission, I will demonstrate as much as I am able right now, and you can then decide whether any additional trial is warranted."
Closing his eyes, absently brushing the bracelet with the fingers of his left hand, Delbridge concentrated on the people before him one at a time. First, he pictured the knight. Suddenly his stomach churned, and his head throbbed. He felt as though he were plunging through incredibly thick fog, then as if the fog were whipped away. This sensation was replaced by a vision of the elderly knight on his knees in a chamber of the castle. Somber draperies covered the walls. The once stoic man wailed and sobbed in unspeakable despair at what appeared to be a funeral, yet there was neither bier nor body. The tragic image was such a shock to Delbridge that a small cry escaped his lips, and his eyes flew open. The vision abruptly ended.
"What was it?" asked the knight, leaning forward. He was startled by the look of uncertainty and pity in Delbridge's eyes. "What did you see?"
"I-nothing," said Delbridge quickly, flustered. He could not tell a ruling Knight of Solamnia that he had seen him bawling like a baby! "I saw nothing."
He changed the subject quickly. "I will focus on the young squire next."
Delbridge thought of Rostrevor's boyish face, dotted with freckles and pale yellow hair. Again the fog enfolded him and rushed past. Bile rose in his throat, and he fought back the feeling that he was about to be sick as the fog evaporated.
What he saw made him stumble backward. Again, instead of the audience hall he had closed his eyes on, he saw a candle-lit room somewhere in the castle. The knight's son, Rostrevor, lay in his bed. But suddenly, a red light burst over him, spinning and growing until it enveloped the young man. Then he was falling, drawn into the source of the light, screaming and frightened and hurt. Finally, the squire cowered against a pulsing red wall, shrinking away from something Delbridge could not see but whose scorching evil he felt.
Delbridge's eyes flew open, and he gasped for air. Immediately the vision disappeared, but his heart still pounded wildly and sweat stung his eyes. He tried unsuccessfully to flex his shaking fingers, only to realize that the bracelet was unbearably hot. In anger and awe he slapped the burning hand against his thigh. Needles of pain tore up his arm and forced a wail from his lips.
Quickly he became aware of Rostrevor standing in front of him, grasping his shoulders and shaking him slightly. "Are you quite all right? Stand up to it now, and get a grip."
Delbridge wiped his face on the sleeve of his gown, took several deep breaths, and began massaging his hand. The squire had returned to his position behind his father, who regarded Delbridge curiously. Balcombe, on the other hand, seemed unmoved as usual.
Lord Curston leaned forward slightly in his seat. "You cannot tell me that you saw nothing that time. If you saw something concerning my son, I'll know what it is. Speak!"
How could he tell them what he saw?
Delbridge swallowed hard. "My lord, well do I realize that you already half think me a charlatan, but what I have just seen I can barely begin to describe. It was unlike anything I have ever experienced. Other visions have been brief and distinct, showing me what actually is to happen. But this was almost like… a nightmare. As if I was seeing hints or symbols of what might happen but not the events themselves. I beg you to believe that this is not just an act intended to frighten you. Squire Rostrevor is in great danger.
Delbridge quickly relayed what he had seen, including the earlier vision of the grief-stricken knight. "I cannot explain it further or better, but I know it to be true," he concluded.
To Delbridge's surprise, Rostrevor was the only one to scoff. "Father, this is nonsense. Abducted by a red light! I am far too strong-you've trained me yourself-to allow such a thing to happen. Besides, our family, and you in particular, are much beloved by your subjects. Who would do such a thing?"
The elder knight's face showed his concern. "There are always malcontents who might seek to hurt me through you. I have lived a long life and made more than enough enemies to disturb my rest."
Scowling, the young knight stepped around the table and took Delbridge firmly by the arm. "I think you've wasted enough of my father's time. Be off!"
"Wait," interjected Balcombe, raising a restraining hand. "What has this fellow to gain by making a fraudulent prediction of such a serious nature? I admit I have reservations, but if he's fabricated this tale, time will quickly reveal the truth." The red-robed mage turned his one eye on Delbridge. "Is this danger imminent?"
"I believe so, yes," blurted Delbridge. "That's how my power works." Feeling a bit awkward, like a bug under glass, Delbridge scratched his jowls.
"Then, my lord, I suggest we err on the side of caution," said Balcombe in his baritone, "by securing Rostrevor in his chambers and out of harm's way, for this evening at least. Station guards outside his door and windows. I will provide additional security by placing magical seals and protective wards on the doors and windows. No one will be able to enter his room, physically or otherwise, without triggering my spells, nor could Rostrevor be removed by any means. If any attempt is made, we will know immediately. In fact, if we act prudently, no one but the four of us in this room will know or suspect that my magical seals exist."
The elder knight seized on it. "An excellent idea! That will certainly thwart any kidnapping attempts, physical or magical."