His situation was desperate now. He was barely handling one vampire; two could flank him if he wasn’t careful. Well, he wasn’t licked yet. He’d had good teachers. Okubo had told him how to defend himself, Dallen had showed him the art, but his father had taught him tactics.
The new arrival took a few slow steps forward. “You called for me, my love? Have you found a new plaything for me?”
“Be careful, this one is trouble,” Will Scarlet spoke, giving Tiberius a wary glance.
The woman was now running towards him. It leapt into the air and in mid-leap changed into the form of a large ferocious wolf.
Tiberius tapped his staff on the ground and spoke. “Movu!”
In a flash he had teleported to the other side of the room. The wolf, meanwhile, had hardly missed a beat. Leaping though the empty air where it thought its prey was to be, it had continued on, reversed direction, and charged back towards Tiberius.
Tiberius gripped his staff and pointed. “Fulmo trafu!” he ordered, and there was a blast of lighting from his fingertips to the wolf. The lightning arced though the wolf and down its leg. The wolf gave a sharp yelp of pain and jumped up involuntarily. Then it stopped its charge to shake off the pain.
Will Scarlet responded by grabbing a heavy chair and throwing it with his great strength across the room at Tiberius.
“Ŝirmu!” Ti answered, and it came to a halt in mid air, then gently dropped to the ground.
Will Scarlet’s eyes now were shining with a savage hatred, as he glanced about looking for the best way to kill Tiberius. He took a step forward, but was stopped by a strange sound. Tiberius had let out a slight chuckle.
“You think this is funny, pup? You’ll soon change your tune,” he glowered.
“Apologies, sir, I didn’t mean to laugh at you. I was just thinking of my father. He told me always to check my ground. I just realized how inopportune your choice of ground really is.”
The vampire and wolf exchanged glances for an instant. The vampire had a sudden sick feeling that the boy was right. Something was horribly wrong here, but he couldn’t place it. The two of them turned with puzzled faces towards Tiberius.
“Don’t you see?” he laughed. “This is a Christmas party! You have no power here. You are undead, yet you try and work mischief here? Look around you! There isn’t one cross here, there are a thousand! The tree, the holly, the star on the tree, you’re surrounded by symbols of the one who triumphed over death and gave us all eternal life? The very music in the air reeks of the sound of triumph over death!”
The undead creatures were stunned. Tiberius turned to the Christmas tree next to him and gave almost a casual gesture towards it. “Jen la lumo de li kiu malamiko morto eternulo!” Tiberius said. The lights of the tree suddenly flew off the tree and charged towards the wolf-shaped vampire like a swarm of hornets. They swirled around the wolf and in their lights the wolf started a transformation. The wolf changed back first into the woman, then the flesh rapidly melted off of her and she changed to a skeleton. Finally, the skeleton crumbled into dust and was blown away by the night air. The lights returned to the tree.
Will Scarlet turned to run. He took a step towards the open balcony where he’d first been standing, but a gesture from Tiberius sent strands of pine roping to seal the french windows and block his path. Whoever this strange man was who suddenly opposed him, he seemed to have an answer for his every move. Suddenly, he threw his sword at Tiberius, turned, and ran for his life. He ran blindly towards the crowded ballroom.
There were screams as he suddenly burst into the crowd. He desperately knocked over some of the guests, but there were too many for free passage. In his haste he’d made a wrong turn. He could feel the life force draining from him with each step as he could see nothing but holly and signs of everlasting life at every turn. There were more screams as, seeing he could not pass easily, he changed into a large bat in their very midst. He flew up into the center of the room. Tiberius ran after him, saw him change, and start to flee. He gestured.
“Flamoj frapu vin Diablo!”
There was a bright intense flash, and the best fireball he’d ever thrown hit the fleeing bat in mid-flight as easily as he’d hit the snowballs. The bat burst into flames and then turned to dust. Only a small black residue filtered down to the center of a suddenly empty dance floor.
Tiberius continued walking to the center of the room looking with satisfaction at the dust. This creature would bother the living no more. Looking up, though, there was another problem. Everyone in the room was looking at him in stone silence.
On sudden inspiration he gave his staff a twirl and set the ends on fire again. He threw the twirling, burning staff into the air. He spun around and then nimbly caught it as it came down. He bowed low with the staff. It was a showoff move, but he knew it from one of his katas that he’d learned in the years with Mr. Okubo. It came in handy now as he posed as a mere entertainer.
Gesturing dramatically back towards the entrance, he cast another spell. There was a puff of smoke and then the image of Will Scarlet suddenly stepped forward at the top of the steps, smiling and waving to the crowd. Tiberius took an elaborate bow in the center of the room and suddenly everyone was applauding. It was nothing but a harmless conjurer’s trick after all. Will Scarlet calmly walked off into the other room and disappeared. Merrily waving his staff, Tiberius marched boldly out of the room to where he saw Salina motioning to him. The band played and the crowd started dancing again. Tiberius slipped quietly out of the room.
Salina led him and another older man, presumably the girl's father, to a quiet parlor. The young lady sat by a fire while a young gentleman spoke comfortingly to her. One of the staff came over and gave the young lady a brandy. Seeing his daughter was now in good hands, the older man turned to Tiberius and held out his hand.
“I’m Geoffrey Thomas; I know what you did back there. I can’t thank you enough. You freed my daughter from that fiend.”
“I’m just glad to be of service, sir. Is she all right?” Tiberius answered.
“She is now. What’s your name, sir?”
Salina interrupted. “He is Harlequin, la? Better no names. Better no questions asked or answered. One of the powers of a vampire is that they hide in shadows. People do not believe in them. But he had eccentricities, no?”
“Mr. Harkov? That’s a kind way to put it,” Mr. Thomas replied.
“La, if anyone asks, he hired this conjurer himself. A festive touch of his own. You have no idea who it was. There are a dozen harlequins tonight, yes?” Salina said.
“Well, yes. As a matter of fact, I don’t know who you are,” Mr. Thomas said.
“Good. We say goodnight then. Be well. Come,” she said, gripping Ti’s hand. She led him back towards balcony. They almost ran into Dallen who was standing, staff in hand, over the dust of the first vampire. He looked up with concern towards Tiberius.
“I thought something was wrong,” Dallen said. “Was this yours?”
“One of them, I killed the other one in the main room,” Tiberius said.
“You killed two vampires?” Dallen asked.
“It was pretty easy once I realized that we’re surrounded here by images of the Christ-Mass. Trees, holly, etc., it’s all symbols of Christ’s triumph over death. Bad place for a vampire.”
“You might have left one for me; folks will think I’m useless at this rate,” Dallen said.
“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t think I could wait as…” Tiberius stammered, slightly flustered.
“Don’t be ridiculous, that was a joke,” Dallen said. “You did extraordinarily well; I’m proud of you.”
Salina threw her arms around him and kissed him. “You were magnificent!” she said. “We were right about you. You are trembling though; are you cold?”
“You do look a bit pale; are you all right?” asked Dallen.
“Yes, no. It’s just sinking in a bit what just happened. I killed that man. Was that right? Maybe I should have tr
ied to capture him? What?”
Salina had stopped to look at him. “Do you care what happens to your enemies?”
“Yes,” he answered. “God tells us to love our enemies. A knight must defend the innocent, but also show mercy to enemies. I’ve got to know how to put down the sword as well as when to pick it up. Especially with this sword,” he said with a meaningful glance at his staff.
Putting his hand to his head he tried to think. “There were two of them; I don’t see how I could have done it differently. Maybe if you had been here, sir, I…”
Salina put her arms around him again with a gentle hug. “How I wish my own had been like you,” she said strangely. “But shed no tears for this fallen. I know them, the life-drainers. You cannot reach their hearts; they have given them to Satan. This man tried to kill you. He did not ask for mercy but fled to wreck more evil. La, he was a coward as well as a villain. When he met an equal on the battlefield he ran. You killed him too quickly.”
“You can’t kill what was never alive, Tiberius,” Dallen added. “Maybe we should get you a drink?”
“I will tend to him,” Salina said. “Now, come; we waste time,” she said, taking his hand. “You will feel better on the dance floor.”
“I don’t know if I should go back there,” Tiberius said, hesitating.
“You are a magician, yes? Change the color of your garb. You must know this by now,” Salina laughed.
“Oh, right.” He gripped his staff and cast an illusion on his clothes, changing the black and white diamonds to shades of green to match her dress. He then put the staff in a corner.
Salina looked at his outfit. “Good. Our moments together are stolen, for now, my love. Let us make the most of them. Come,” she said, leading him to the dance floor, and waving Dallen back to his friends. “We have important things to discuss.”
“Oh, yes about your visits…” Tiberius said, trying to remember that he was supposed to be annoyed at her.
“La, I mean important things. Like what are you getting me for Christmas?” she said, smiling as the dance began.
“I thought elves didn’t celebrate Christmas,” he said smiling. “Aren’t you all pagans?”
“Who told you that?” she said, laughing. “What makes you think I don’t work for Santa Claus?”
“Wouldn’t you be rather busy this time of year?” Tiberius said.
“I told you I have a demanding job,” she said. “So, what are you getting me?”
“I can’t improve on your perfume. A new looking glass, maybe? One might have come in handy just now.”
Chapter VII
University Life
To make any sort of a quick summary of all the interesting and mysterious adventures that naturally occur around an apprentice magus is, of course, impossible in a volume of this length. It is a curious paradox, that while Tiberius was now starting to have adventures, which, for the first time were really worth talking about, we must also for the first time skip over some of them. The incident of the ghost’s Christmas present, the sinking boat race, the Amazon’s challenge, the unhappy gargoyle, and other similar minor undertakings will have to be discussed at another time, as space prohibits their proper treatment here. While interesting, they are not especially relevant to our narrative. The reader will have to forgive the editors if we constrain ourselves to those incidents which were more directly related to the development of Tiberius as a master magus. As recompense we can assure the reader that every effort will be made to give these incidents the attention they deserve on another occasion.
The summer of S.R. 306 remains a mystery, though it is rumored he traveled extensively that summer. It is possible that he went to London, though this hardly seems creditable. Suffice it to say that over the next few years, from S.R. 302 through S.R. 307, Tiberius continued to grow and increase in knowledge and ability as he completed his graduate studies.
There were, however, certain incidents that occurred during this five year period of study that harbored some particular portents of the future. For example, one day in the spring of S.R. 304, Tiberius was surprised and slightly annoyed to see a large number of students charging into the school library. He’d come that morning in search of some quiet to finish an essay before breakfast, and now he had half the school keeping him company. As he was fairly confident that it was not a sudden influx of academic enthusiasm that propelled his fellow classmates towards the stacks of books, Tiberius took the liberty of asking someone what was going on.
“That’s him, El Gato,” someone said.
“There’s a cat in the yard?” he asked. Tiberius, along with everyone else, looked down on the school courtyard. Queen's College was sort of “E” shaped, with a garden in the center.
“Don’t be daft, Ti, that’s not a cat. That is THE Gato. The finest swordsman in the Stewardship.”
“Oh, it’s a duel,” he said. By now he’d caught sight of the small group of assembled men down in the courtyard. “What’s it about?” Tiberius said.
“A woman, naturally. Don’t you ever read the gossip magazines, Ti?”
“I’ve managed to avoid them so far,” Tiberius replied. “If he’s the finest swordsman in the Stewardship, what’s he doing here? Why isn’t he with the Rangers?”
“Be realistic. A man like him with the Rangers? El Gato’s the toast of the town. He can have any assignment he likes. What would he want to go to some backwoods outpost for?”
Tiberius could see now that it was a duel, and a rather formal one at that. The courtyard at Queen’s College seemed an odd place for it, but no one seemed to be objecting. As a qualified, medically trained priest was already on hand, there seemed little point in his trying to stop the event. It was evidently a personal matter.
El Gato was a man of above average height and looks. He had that classic rogue’s look to him which Tiberius lacked and the ladies all seemed to love. He had a gift for fashion too; he wore a red cavalier’s coat, a black feathered hat with a broad brim, and a shirt with slashed sleeves. He took off the coat to prepare for the duel. His opponent was dressed in a purple-blue tunic with gold trim. It was a more conservative fashion, but a rich raiment none the less.
As the two swords were carefully measured by the seconds, the priest made one more effort to settle the match.
“Let me one last time implore you gentlemen to put aside your differences,” he pleaded. The nobleman was having none of it though.
“This is a matter for the sword,” he said. He was speaking to the assembled crowd, who were looking out of every window, though no one actually set foot in the courtyard. “This rogue has paid undue attention to my wife. Honor demands that I confront him.”
The priest turned pleadingly to El Gato, who answered the priest in turn.
“I will not apologize,” he said. “I was simply consoling a friend.”
“Consoling a friend? Is that your excuse for making love to my wife?” the nobleman indignantly exclaimed.
“She was distraught over the news that you refused to acknowledge your bastard son. Or is it sons? She’d rather lost track of your affairs when I last spoke to her,” El Gato replied.
From the over-exaggerated look of fury this assertion brought to the noble, Tiberius gathered El Gato’s accusations were true. Regaining his composure, the other gentleman spoke again to the crowd.
“I’m tired of him swaggering about on reputation. He’ll soon see how a gentleman fights.”
“Indeed,” Gato responded. “I have tickets to watch Captain Walker at the jousts later.”
In a cold fury, the noble took his sword and stepped to his place. El Gato did the same, with an almost bored disinterest. The marshal gave the signal and the two men advanced.
The noble had some considerable training, but from the first it was obvious that El Gato’s reputation was earned. He let the noble make a few wild thrusts; then he launched his own attack culminating in a disarm which sent the noble’s sword flying under Gato’s feet.
<
br /> El Gato smiled and calmly flipped the blade back towards the noble.
“Your sword, sir. We continue, unless you would prefer to withdraw your complaint?”
“You won’t be so lucky again,” was the noble’s reply.
El Gato shrugged to the crowd, as if to say “Well, I tried.” Then he came en guarde. There was another furious assault from the noble, again blocked almost effortlessly at every turn by El Gato. Finally he lunged and made a small cut across the cheek of the noble.
“First blood!” called the marshal. “Honor is satisfied.”
The noble threw down his sword and stormed off. El Gato calmly thanked the priest and the marshals and retained his jacket. He’d hardly worked up a sweat.
“That was amazing, wasn’t it?” someone said next to Tiberius.
“The man ought to be with the Rangers,” Tiberius thought aloud. “He’d do some good out on the frontier.” Tiberius meant it too. He was impressed with Gato’s skill with a sword. He’d been trained by a master and could recognize one when he saw one. For a moment he wondered who would win if the two of them fought a duel. Probably El Gato, he concluded. Mr. Okubo didn’t fight fair in serious fights. He’d bet on Okubo in war, but El Gato in a duel limited to the sword. Still the man had shown a good deal of professional restraint. Tiberius was convinced that El Gato could have killed the noble at any time. El Gato obviously had a weakness for the ladies though. Running off with another man’s wife wasn’t a good idea even if she was planning on a divorce. The frontier would find better uses for his skills than the decadence of the capital, he thought.
∴
The nine day wonder of the duel faded and Tiberius went back to his studies. Things were fairly routine until one Saturday when he was waiting for Mr. Okubo’s arrival. He still tried to train with Mr. Okubo as much as he could. Usually they got together at least once or twice a month with the help of Dallen’s carriage. He was a little late today, though, which was unusual. He spun his staff around as he saw the coach finally arrive.
Path of the Magi (Tales of Tiberius) Page 18