The Naming

by Torsten Weitze

  This exercise was always exhausting and would make him break into a sweat, but if Ahren didn’t strengthen his arms and shoulders, then he would never be able to extend his bow to its optimum shooting position without wasting valuable time or tiring too quickly. The cultists and the Lost Ones had been unarmed and the shooting distances short and so he had been able to manage without using the full power of his weapon. But some day he wouldn’t be so lucky, and he didn’t want to be responsible if something happened to someone because he hadn’t been able to use his improved bow to its best effect. Even if he could never have shot as well with his original bowstring, he felt that there was still a considerable untapped potential in his weapon.

  And so he had tortuously made his way up and down the rigging again and again. Eventually, Falk had found him, soaked to the skin and worn out, with shivering limbs and panting breath, his teeth chattering in the biting wind, which carried with it the first signs of winter.

  ‘And so you have decided to start the next stage of your training’, the old Forest Guardian had said, approvingly.

  Ahren was too out of breath to respond.

  ‘I’m proud of you. Today, for the first time, you’ve asked yourself what you can do to move your training along. You’ve spotted a weakness, and without being asked or ordered to, you have set about eradicating this weakness by using what you have already learned.’

  Ahren could only stare at him speechlessly, as his master looked approvingly at his young charge.

  ‘Some day I really will make a decent Forest Guardian out of you’, his master had said before turning and disappearing below deck without another word.

  Ahren collapsed on the ground in exhaustion but couldn’t stop a silly smile from spreading across his face. It was true that his master had prompted the apprentice to take this next step in his development by giving him the Autumn Festival present, but that didn’t stop Ahren from basking in the praise he had just received.

  Now Ahren was standing at the railing and squinting his eyes in the afternoon sun, hoping that he would at last see the silhouette of the Silver Cliff. He heard a loud yawn behind him and when he looked around, he saw Uldini floating beside him and closing his mouth. He blinked at the apprentice with sleepy eyes.

  ‘I see we’ve won’, he mumbled indistinctly. The Arch Wizard was floating in a slightly tilted manner.

  Ahren tried to keep a straight face and nodded silently. He knew from experience that it was never a good idea to pull the wizard’s leg. At the very least, the ageless boy would attack him with his centuries old knowledge of verbal sparring and that was far from enjoyable.

  ‘Don’t just stand there, tell me what happened!’ Uldini grumbled between two further loud yawns.

  And so Ahren related the events of the previous night and of the attacks by the Lost Ones on the ship. Uldini listened with interest, and as the apprentice went on, his demeanour changed and he grew more awake and alert. By the time the young man had finished his report, Uldini was back to his old self.

  The childlike figure opened his eyes wide one last time and smacked his lips contentedly.

  ‘Thanks for the latest. If you sleep for five days, it takes a while to come back to normal again. At least I’m not a morning grouch like Jelninolan.’ He rolled his eyes as he spoke.

  Ahren was on the point of asking him what he had meant by that when Khara stormed on deck, her cheeks bright red and a furious look in her eyes. She ran up onto the afterdeck and dug her nails into the railing.

  Curious, and a little concerned, Ahren went over to her.

  ‘Is everything alright?’ he asked from a safe distance.

  Khara had knocked him to the ground with an elegant throw on more than one occasion when he had taken her by surprise, and so he had learned not to approach her unannounced. He suspected that she was in control of her reflexes to a much better degree than she let on, but whenever he had confronted her about that, she had said, ‘arena dangerous. Always careful’.

  Her head spun around and her arms shot up into a defence position and Ahren doubted that on this occasion the moves had been deliberate. Something had really upset her.

  ‘Mistress very angry’, she said. ‘I not want talk.’

  Then she turned back and stared out at the water, kneading the railing with her hands.

  Ahren decided that retreat was the best policy and he then approached Jelninolan’s cabin carefully. When he was still a few paces away, he heard the elf uttering foul curses, and a wooden jug was hurled out the open door, where it smashed into the opposite wall.

  ‘I said hot water’, the priestess snarled, and a distraught sailor came tumbling out of the cabin before picking up the jug. When he spotted Ahren, he gave him a pleading look and pointed at the cabin, and the apprentice was sensible enough to step back, shake his head vigorously and race back on deck.

  Falk and Uldini were standing together and laughing over a joke. His master saw Ahren’s distraught look and he laughed again.

  ‘Did she catch you?’ he asked wittily.

  ‘No, but Khara and one of the sailors must have crossed paths with her’, said Ahren uncertainly. ‘Is she always like that after a trance sleep?’

  Falk and Uldini both gave an embarrassed nod.

  ‘She suppresses many of the negative effects of her magic and then there’s a reaction when she wakes up from her trance’, Uldini explained. ‘The term ‘unbearable’ doesn’t come near describing it. The best thing to do is to leave her alone and after a few hours she’ll have come back to herself.’

  ‘If the ship is still in one piece’, added Falk drily.

  He looked over at Khara, who was still brooding.

  ‘I’d better explain to her what’s going on. The poor thing idolises our elf, and I don’t want her to blame herself.’

  Ahren watched his master going to great lengths trying to explain the situation to Khara and calm her down. Suddenly, a wave of jealousy came over him.

  Uldini chuckled mischievously.

  ‘You should look at your face. Forget about Khara and look over there - that will lift your spirits.’

  As he turned to look where Uldini had indicated, and was about to deny that he had been thinking about the girl, he gasped at the sight that presented itself.

  The Queen of the Waves had sailed around a particularly jagged section of coastline which had jutted out to sea, and suddenly the Silver Cliff came into view. Ahren had always thought the name had some sort of symbolic meaning, referring to the riches of the dwarf enclave, but now the truth revealed itself before him. Hemmed in between two side cliffs was a narrow shingle beach in a little cove, behind which was a steep wall. This wall seemed to consist of pure gold, and it glittered brightly in the sunlight.

  Ahren squinted and could make out huge openings in its surface, from which protruded enormous arrowheads as big as horses. He remembered seeing similar weapons on the palace in King’s Island and then it struck him that they must have been gifts from the dwarves. He looked uneasily at the dragon longbows and he suddenly felt very vulnerable as the enormous arrows turned slowly in the direction of their ship.

  Uldini noticed Ahren’s anxiety and floated towards him.

  ‘Calm down. The dwarves of the Silver Cliff like to show off their wealth, and they also like to impress upon their guests that they are well capable of defending it. They’re actually a very pleasant lot, considering they’re dwarves.’

  Ahren looked again at the monstrous projectiles aimed at them and asked himself what a grumpier elf clan’s welcome would look like.

  Uldini turned around and caught sight of the captain.

  ‘Sail slowly and steadily into the bay. The dwarves here are only used to heavily laden ships. The fact that we’re sailing in a warship could lead them to draw the wrong conclusions.’

  The captain looked nervously at the dragon longbows and then called out a series of commands. The ship slowed down considerably, and Uldini nodded approvingly before tur
ning back to Ahren.

  The apprentice had regained his composure and was filled with curiosity.

  ‘Is the whole cliff really all made of silver?’ he asked excitedly.

  Uldini smirked and rubbed his bald head with his hand.

  ‘No. This magnificent view is part of their intimidation tactics. They covered the surface with a thin layer of silver, and they then sealed it all with an alloy so that the wind and water would glance off it. Falk’s armour has the same sealant on it, by the way.’

  Ahren looked over at his master and a thought struck him as he put together bits of information he had learned over the previous few weeks.

  ‘His armour is that of the Paladins, am I right? And his sword?’ He knew the answer already, in fact, but he hoped Uldini would give him some additional information.

  The Arch Wizard nodded. ‘Every Paladin got their own armour and weapons that time, forged by the master blacksmiths in Thousand Halls. There is a chamber deep in the mountain where particular pressure ratios exist. There – and only there – can Deep Steel be forged. They say it consists of the pure essence of HIM, WHO IS, but I personally think that’s just bragging. Dwarves have a tendency to exaggerate their stories if it can add value to the handwork they produce.’

  Ahren looked thoughtfully at the silver-glistening material which made up Falk’s armour, and Uldini carried on speaking.

  ‘Don’t get me wrong. I can understand the reasoning behind these myths. A Paladin’s armour is very rarely breached, and then only through a violent effort. The bite of a giant dragon, a collapsing crag, things like that. And even then, the wearers have survived – if only just. There is an enormous strength in the material and even I, after all the centuries, still don’t understand it.’ The voice of the boyish figure died away as the Arch Wizard became lost in thought.

  Ahren turned his eyes back to the dwarf enclave and tried to make out more details as they slowly sailed forward. The days had grown noticeably shorter and colder even though their southern course had counteracted it a little. The sun had just disappeared behind the cliff, and although the silver was no longer blinding, the long shadows cast across the bay made it difficult to see.

  The apprentice squinted and thought he could make out extensive engravings on the surface of the cliff face, but then he was distracted by a tumult behind him.

  Jelninolan had appeared on deck, her eyes flashing with anger, and miraculously all the sailors who had been nearby were now at the other end of the ship or were climbing the rigging to do some repairs. The elf stomped sullenly over to her companions and her angry eyes settled on Ahren as a whirlwind on four paws pushed between them and slid around on his stomach with a begging look in front of the priestess. Culhen’s eyes begged piteously for mercy, and the wolf whimpered urgently.

  The group had observed this ritual every morning since Jelninolan had transformed the conceited wolf’s appearance into that of a wolfhound. And every time the elf had sent him away with a smile and words of consolation, but now she looked down at Culhen irritably, made a gruff hand movement and spoke a few words in Elfish. Culhen’s fur changed colour and returned to its normal white and then the delighted dog was unstoppable. Howling and barking, he jumped up at the startled elf, licked her furiously on the face while landing his front paws on her shoulders. The wolf had grown considerably larger and heavier and so he knocked her over and all Ahren could see was a ball of fur and green elf robes as Culhen continued to express his unbridled gratitude.

  Uldini’s face was the picture of horror and he whispered quickly, ‘get your wolf off her now before she, in her condition, does something we’ll all regret’.

  Ahren quickly went over to Culhen and grabbed him by the neck just as he heard Jelninolan murmur something in Elfish. He tried to drag away his friend before the Wizard would turn him into a water rat, but then he suddenly heard the ancient priestess chuckle. He walked around the boisterous pair and saw that she was smiling at the wolf, using terms of endearment and ruffling his fur. She turned to Uldini and smiled at him, and he responded with a raise of his eyebrows.

  ‘If I’d known that, I would have tamed her own personal wolf for her centuries ago. And even if I had to do it blindfold and with hands behind my back. Do you have any idea how many mornings I’ve had to survive when she was coming out of a sleep trance.? I think I have to agree with the rest of the crew. Your wolf is a true hero. He has confronted a dragon and lived to tell the tale’, said the Arch Wizard in his typical, try tone.

  Jelninolan pushed Culhen aside and stared at the childlike figure. Then she raised her hand and a little wave came over the railing, surprising Uldini by splashing him thoroughly with cold water. The Arch Wizard stood there, dripping wet in his soaking black robe and gasping for air as the icy wind blew through the wet material. And without a word he floated below deck, leaving a few weak blue sparks dancing on the wooden planks, the only evidence of his suppressed anger.

  Ahren tried to keep a straight face and went up quickly to Falk and Khara on the quarterdeck, leaving his noble wolf to cheer up the priestess.

  Falk looked at him questioningly.

  ‘What happened there?’

  ‘Uldini and Culhen are cheering Jelninolan up a little’, said Ahren quickly.

  If he went into detail, he would surely burst out laughing, and at the moment there were two irritated Ancients on board who might take it the wrong way.

  When Falk realised he wasn’t going to get any more information out of the boy, he shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘That’s a good idea, the two of them have. Elves and dwarves don’t get on with each other, anyway, their cultures are too different. It’s hard enough without Jelninolan hitting the roof over every little thing.’

  The old man looked over at the cliff.

  ‘Also, she’s always terribly ashamed of her outbursts afterwards. If the two are able to help her recover herself, then good for them.’

  As if in response, a peal of laughter could be heard from the main deck and Culhen came running up, wagging his tail and rubbing up against Ahren’s leg.

  ‘I see you have your old fur again, greedy guts. No wonder you’re so happy. I swear, I’ve never seen such a conceited animal’, laughed Falk.

  Khara’s reaction came out of the blue. She recoiled from Culhen and went into a low defensive posture, while she instinctively reached for her weapon. Her hand only grasped air as she had left Windblade in the cabin. A wild, almost panicked look was in her eyes.

  Ahren went down on his haunches and embraced his friend so as to restrain him, when he suddenly understood what had shocked the girl. This was the first time she had seen Culhen as a wolf, and as an enormous and boisterous one. The apprentice stroked the broad head of the animal between the eyes, and his furry friend gave out a deep, contented growl.

  ‘Culhen, this is Culhen’, he called out, trying to get through to the attack-ready girl.

  After several heartbeats she understood and straightened herself as she tried to find the right words.

  ‘In arena sometime wolf enemy. Dangerous fights. Many dead slaves.’

  Ahren nodded, moved. He really couldn’t even begin to understand how Khara had spent her childhood, but the more he discovered, the less he wanted to think about it.

  Jelninolan came up to the afterdeck and joined them, speaking to Khara in the Empire language and bowing slightly. The girl returned the bow, but longer and deeper than the elf. Then she beamed at the priestess.

  ‘You two were protected from my bad mood, so I don’t need to apologise to either of you’.

  She stroked Culhen’s hackles gently with the tips of her fingers.

  You’ve raised a real-life saver there, Ahren’. Then she looked the wolf in the eyes. ‘Culhen, whenever you’ve had enough of this numbskull, you’re always welcome in Eathinian.’

  The wolf gave a cheerful bark and pushed himself up against the young man’s legs.

  Loud shouts could be heard from al
l over the ship as the crew prepared to anchor.

  ‘We’ve arrived and we should head off as soon as possible’, said Falk. ‘Winter is coming, and now that the sun is setting it’s going to get markedly cold here along the coast. For my part, I’ve been freezing long enough and I urgently need to warm up.’ He looked around. ‘Where’s Uldini?’ he asked.

  Jelninolan shrugged her shoulders guiltily.

  ‘Oh dear. I’ll go get him. Then we can get a rowing boat to bring us ashore’.

  The elf disappeared below deck and Falk placed his hand on Ahren’s shoulder.

  ‘Now we’re among dwarves. Anything you’re going to learn about courage and stubbornness, you’ll learn it here.’

  The apprentice looked over at the Silver Cliff and asked himself what wonders were awaiting them.

  Chapter 15

  37 days to the winter solstice

  After a few friendly words of farewell from the captain and an endless amount of cuddling for Culhen by every single one of the sailors, all of them wanting to bid farewell to the wolf, the companions clambered aboard the little boat.

  Uldini did not go with them. He was still mortally insulted and had hovered over to the beach on his own, where was now standing, arms folded, waiting for them. In his dark robe, barely visible in the twilight on the dark shingle beach, the little figure looked for all the world like the spirit of revenge ready to wreak vengeance on the nefarious of the world.

  Ahren looked longingly over at the Arch Wizard, as he held on for dear life to the edges of the boat while it tossed here and there. He tried to stay clear of the water, which had already risen a good foot on the inside of the wooden nutshell-like vessel. The others ignored the rising water and Ahren did his best to follow suit. He looked at Uldini again.

  ‘Can he not just take us with him when he does that?’ he grumbled quietly.

  Jelninolan smiled at him indulgently.

  ‘We’re nearly on land. And no, he can’t just do that. Uldini has perfected the magic of self-levitation almost to the point where de doesn’t expend any energy. His whole body works in unison with each of his movements. If he uses this magic on someone else who doesn’t have control over himself, then it’s extremely tiring, because he has to balance out every counter action of the other person. I could float over there myself, but I haven’t practised in a long time and it would really wear me out. On the other hand, I can invocate ten times as many healing charms as our bad-tempered friend there. “Practice makes perfect” is true for wizards too, you know.’