Alex was correct. Everyone gathered around Larc as he told stories of Oscar and his prosperity. Larc also brought the villagers up to date on all of the friends they had left behind in Bordon. Someone asked if Oscar had ever gotten his stone house on the hill. Larc replied that Oscar had not but had managed to acquire an entire city in southwest Targa. Alex smirked. He was not surprised.
Alex brought Larc up to date with the village and how it had progressed. He explained that they did still carry the little quivers. Indeed, they made a point of tracking myrics and killing the mature ones whenever they could. The village had amassed a large stockpile of quills. Alex asked if Larc or Oscar had seen or heard anything of Jenneva since the cave and was disappointed when Larc said they had not.
* * *
Egam interrupted Jenneva’s experiment. “Jenneva, you have learned faster than any student I have ever had. You devoured my books and are capable of performing any spell that I am capable of, with the exception of the Dark Side. Even Sarac and Kirsta took seven years to learn what you have learned in three. Unfortunately, that brings us to the question that we both have been avoiding for some time. I have been studying the Dark Side for over twenty years now and feel that I have learned a great deal. As I said in the beginning, I am bound to teach you the full extent of my knowledge but you are not bound to stay and learn it. You don’t need to answer right away. In fact, you are welcome to stay as long as you wish and continue reading my books, though I doubt there are many left you haven’t read.”
“Egam, you have been a wonderful teacher and more. I sometimes think that you are much like the father I never knew. I could not possibly leave you now. Besides, I have nowhere left to go. There are times that I am amazed at what you have taught me. I could have gone through my entire life never knowing the ability that was dormant inside me. You have created in me a thirst for knowledge and given me the moral values to know how to use that knowledge. I am forever indebted to you. I will stay.”
“I am so glad,” remarked Egam. “I would have sorely missed you. I have lived alone for many years and thought myself impervious to human attachment, but you have shattered that illusion. I am proud to be thought of as a father to you, for you are the type of woman any man would be glad to call daughter. I sometimes wonder who your father might have been, for surely he must have been a great magician.”
“You believe him dead then?” she asked.
“Undoubtedly, Jenneva,” the wizard answered. “If he were alive, he would have found you by now. Your mother, as well.”
“You are probably right,” she agreed. “It doesn’t matter. Uncle Hasra was always kind to me and cared for me and I have you now. I have also decided that I want to learn the Dark Side.”
“Jenneva, are you sure? The Dark Side is evil. You know that I am only studying it to counter Sarac. Other than that it has no place in this world.”
“I know why you have devoted the last twenty years of your life to it,” Jenneva stated. “But you are wrong to believe that Sarac is the only reason for learning it.”
Egam was shocked. Jenneva could not possibly turn into another Kirsta, could she? No, Kirsta was a brilliant student and a wonderful girl, but Jenneva was so pure of heart that he could not picture her executing a Dark Spell.
When Egam didn’t answer, Jenneva continued. “Egam, I have two reasons for wanting to learn about the Dark Side. First, it is knowledge and I have a thirst for knowledge that is unquenchable. Second, someone needs to counter Sarac and others like him. Should Sarac defeat you it would be up to me to defeat him. We cannot allow the world to be subject to his whim. For me to refuse to learn because I am afraid or because you are afraid, is not acceptable. Even if Sarac is defeated, there will always be another Sarac. No, good magicians must learn destructive magic. It is the only responsible path. You have shown me that a magician who studies the Dark Side does not have to be evil. Do you have so little faith in how you have taught me that you would fear me turning to the Dark Side?”
“No,” replied the mage. “I have faith in you, Jenneva. I fear the loss of your innocence in regards to magic. My knowledge of the Dark Side troubles me from time to time. I have just learned to control it. I would be much happier having never learned it, though. I fear that I am doomed to consign you to the same fate. You are correct, however, it is up to good magicians to safeguard all life and we cannot be selfish about it. Very well, we will start instruction tomorrow; but for tonight, let us be merry and put Sarac out of our minds.”
* * *
Sarac rose from his chair and walked around the library. He had been at this temple way too long, but the knowledge stored here was incredible. For three years he had been looting knowledge from under Brother Dominic’s nose. The old fool had accepted Sarac as Brother Timothy. He had tried once, shortly after Sarac arrived, to get confirmation from the temple in Klandon. How unfortunate that his messenger should meet such an untimely death only minutes short of returning to Brother Dominic.
Sarac was sure that he now possessed spells that no other magician alive could use. Some of the volumes in this library hadn’t been read in hundreds of years. He wasn’t sure, though, if he was any closer to finding the Origin Scroll. He had found many references to the old tome, verifying its existence, but the most recent mention of it was the cargo manifest of a Lanoirian ship bound for Trekum, the capital of Sordoa, and that was three hundred and fifty years ago. He would have to get one of his Black Devils to check public records in Sordoa. Sarac had no more time to spend in this library. He must continue with his plan to get rid of Egam and take the old magician’s library for himself. He would have to stop in Bordon on the way home. His network of Black Devils had reported on Lagor’s disappearance while trying to retrieve Cauldron, Sarac’s black stallion. Sarac was sure that Ramor was behind the loss of one of Sarac’s trusted operatives. He was assured that his horse was still being taken care of by Oscar.
* * *
Oscar had left Dalek and was returning to Bordon. The city was coming along nicely. The carpentry shop was busy dawn to dusk. The main frame of the shipbuilding factory was complete and the docks were in place. Already forty homes had been constructed and workers were moving in every day. His first three ships would leave Tagaret within a month. Baron Whitley had taken to the task of organizing the workers with a zeal that surprised Oscar. He got along well with the baron and always spent a couple of days at his castle when he was in town. Now that everything was proceeding so well for Oscar, it seemed almost anticlimactic to deal with Tulek. Tulek had lost another shipment and had been unable to cover the loss. Oscar through a moneylender in Balfour had lent the money to Tulek, requiring his house as collateral. The note was past due and Oscar meant to collect. Tulek’s reign over the poor people of Bordon was at an end.
Oscar was nearing Bordon when he detected a noise in the bushes. It was much too large a noise for small game. Oscar picked up speed and soon a rider emerged from the woods racing after him. Oscar looked back and recognized Ramor charging with his sword drawn. Oscar carried a sword and a bow but he did not want a fight with Ramor. He would not have a chance to get off an arrow and he was no match for Ramor with a sword. He sent his horse into a gallop but Ramor was still gaining on him. Oscar raced around a bend in the road and nearly collided with a man dressed in animal skins, most likely a trapper. Oscar was racing down a rather rare section of straight road when he heard an inhuman scream. He chanced a glance back and immediately slowed his horse and turned around. Ramor was lying in the road burning. It was a hideous sight and the stench almost emptied Oscar’s stomach. By the time Oscar made it to the charred corpse, Ramor had ceased to exist.
The man in skins had stopped and Oscar asked him what had happened. The man stated that Ramor had just burst into flames and he didn’t know why. Oscar’s ring warmed his finger and Oscar stared at the stranger.
The stranger addressed Oscar. “You must be Oscar Dalek. My name is Kit. I see that you are wearing the ri
ng I gave to Carson. That must mean that you have his horse, Cauldron. He asked if I would stop by and pick it up for him.”
Oscar’s finger was getting very warm and he knew that the man was lying. He also knew that whatever happened to Ramor could happen to him.
As if sensing his thoughts, the stranger transformed into Carson before Oscar’s eyes. “Okay, Oscar,” Carson said, “I’ll stop trying to defeat my own ring. The man I sent to pick up the horse never returned. Ramor killed him, just like he was about to kill you. I have been busy and was not able to come myself until now. Actually, I’m rather glad I happened along. I like you, Oscar, and I would have been disappointed if Ramor had disposed of you before I got to him. Don’t ask me who I am because I will not answer you. Let us remain friends as Carson and Oscar. I mean you no harm and will leave as soon as I trade you this horse for Cauldron.”
Oscar knew Carson, or whoever he was, was telling the truth this time and agreed to trade horses. Carson deflected Oscar’s questions, so Oscar stopped asking. Oscar had heard tales of magic before but he was glad when the stranger mounted Cauldron and left.
Oscar stopped by his home and refreshed himself and caught up on the company news. Fram was handling most of the shipping business now and only occasionally took a wagon out. Larc informed him of his visit to Lavinda and Oscar promised himself that he would take time to get out to the village for a visit.
Oscar, Larc and Fram rode up to Tulek’s house and knocked on the door. Oscar noticed that Tulek’s security guards were absent. He figured Tulek had been unable to pay them and they left. An old man admitted the party after Oscar had asked for an audience. They proceeded to Tulek’s study and found him sitting at his desk staring out the window. Tulek looked at the party entering and his face turned into an angry scowl. “What are you doing in my house?” demanded Tulek.
Oscar stared at the old man and could almost have pitied him, had he not had Oscar’s father killed. “You misunderstand my intentions, Tulek. I haven’t come for a social visit. I have come to tell you that you have three days to get out of my house. Ramor screwed up and lost one of your shipments. You had to borrow money from a lender in Balfour, putting up this house as collateral. You have failed to repay the note and it is overdue. That note, Tulek, was mine.”
Oscar could see the fury and hatred in Tulek’s contorted face. “Your house indeed, boy Dalek. Not while I’m living. Your father was as ignorant as you. And Ramor will do to you what he did to your father. Now get out of my house.”
Oscar could see that Tulek had not only dismissed them from the premises, he had also dismissed them from his mind. “Tulek, Ramor won’t do your dirty work anymore. I watched him die on my way into town. He was waiting for me, but you already know that. What he hadn’t counted on was a magician who had lost a certain black stallion. It’s a nasty sight to watch a man burn to death. I guess you’re going to have to kill me yourself, Tulek.”
Tulek’s expression went from shock to despair. He was defeated and he knew it. This young boy had crushed him more painfully than any death he could imagine. Tulek’s death had been a slow, lingering, three-year disease that had eaten him bit by bit. He said nothing.
“Three days, Tulek. After that we physically remove you. And I wouldn’t suggest staying in town. There are quite a few townspeople down there practicing throwing rocks.” Oscar turned and left. When Oscar thought about it, Tulek’s demise was probably a lot more painful then the death Ramor suffered at the hands of Carson.
* * *
Sarac stabled Cauldron and climbed to his laboratory. Mordac had already returned from the goblin camp. “What news of Guldar?” asked Sarac.
“He was getting a little mad about the meetings being canceled until I convinced him that you were off gathering information on the attack,” answered Mordac.
“The attack?” questioned the dark magician.
“Yes, you asked me to find the key to getting Guldar and his goblins to attack the kingdom. Well, the key is that they now believe that the kingdom intends to attack them. I fed it to them slowly over the time you were away. As you requested, I met with them every six months. I stayed there for the first year but could find no motivation for their cooperation. On one of my visits I overheard some talk about new building in the Disputed Area and the idea hit. I told Guldar that the kingdom was working out a plan to populate the Disputed Area to keep Cordonia from getting it. I assured him that the first phase of such a plan would be a military strike to wipe out the goblins. This got him very excited and he wanted details. I told him that you were personally taking charge of getting the information because of your high regard for him. It’s a good thing that fool doesn’t have one of your rings.”
“Yes, I should probably learn to be more careful with those. It is such a childish spell that I forget the power it offers a normal man. You have done well, Mordac. I want the attack to begin at the start of winter so that both armies get bogged down and are forced to wait until spring. This will allow enough time for Egam to learn of it and come to the aid of the kingdom. It is too late to organize the offense for this winter, so we will tell Guldar that he needs to attack next winter to stop the invasion of his homeland. It’s about time we stirred up a little excitement. I can hardly wait for the fun to begin. We also have preparations to make. I want the Black Devils alerted. When Egam raises his ugly head I want it on a pike!”
Chapter 9
Lavinda
Jo came running down the hill as fast as her long legs would carry her. She raced through the clear zone and angled for the bridge. Once across the bridge, she veered toward the tower and the animal horn that would be hanging there. She grabbed the horn and placed it to her full lips and tried to blow but she had no breath remaining. She stood there panting, her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. Slowly, she stood erect and pushed the long, brown hair away from her face. This time when she blew the horn the loud tone echoed through the valley. Satisfied, she let the horn drop to swing on its tether and took off for the village square.
Alex was behind the village giving archery lessons to a group of new villagers. The villagers had agreed that everyone over the age of eight had to learn to use a bow and the archery classes were a continual event. At the sound of the horn, Alex turned and ran to the village square shouting for the newcomers to follow. When he arrived the square was packed and everyone gathered around little Jo. Alex reflected that he still called her little Jo though at thirteen now she certainly was not a little girl anymore.
Jo was drenched with perspiration and bent over trying to catch her breath while babbling incoherently. Seeing Alex approaching, she straightened and tried to speak. Alex merely held his hand up in a gesture to tell her to wait. He quickly surveyed the assembled villagers to determine if anyone was absent. For five years Alex had been preaching restraint and the need for controlled, logical thought especially in times of urgency. Jo obviously had something very important to say and the message would be delivered faster if she had to say it only once. Sensing that Jo had regained her breath, he asked her to report.
“Sorry, Alex. I was over the west hill gathering herbs before the first snow hits when I heard a distant noise. I went to investigate and saw a Yaki eating a deer. I was cautious and kept myself hidden. I also looked around for any signs of other Yaki but didn’t see any. I did not try to shoot at it. I thought the best thing to do was to return quickly to the village and alert everyone without the Yaki knowing it had been seen. I realize now that I should have paced myself rather the running all the way.”
“You did fine, Jo,” remarked Alex. “Eddie, man the tower until we’re through with the meeting. Okay, everyone. We discussed this situation many times but I’ll go through it again for the newcomers. These Yaki destroyed the village that the founders came from. The men of the village valiantly gave their lives to provide time for the women and children to escape. They barely did escape. At one of the first village meetings after founding Lavinda the v
illage agreed that would never happen again. This village will not be abandoned. It may not even be attacked but we will prepare for an attack anyway. We designed this village with defense as our primary goal. We have steep mountains to the north and east of us and the river to our west between us and the pass. We are also prepared to defend against an attack from the south. We have a definite plan and everyone except the newcomers should know their responsibility. Anyone not sure of where they are supposed to go or what they are supposed to do, check with the Director. Whoever is Director at the time will be right here in the center of the square at a table that will be brought out. Are there any questions?”
“Are we allowed to leave the village?” asked one of the newcomers.
“Anyone wishing to leave the village must do so in the next half hour. After that time, there will be no way out of Lavinda. One of the first things we will be doing is removing the bridge. If you are going to leave, do it now. Are there any other questions?” Alex asked.
No one responded and Alex said, “Jo, I want you to take the first turn as Director. Direct the newcomers wherever they will do the most good.”
Alex’s job in the preparation stage was primarily to keep track of progress and help out where necessary. Marga had already replaced Eddie in the tower. Nolan and Laman had half the bridge railings removed. Alex climbed the tower to get a better view. The plan was a relatively simple one although it had been modified many times over the years. All village buildings had been kept to the east side of the river where they could not be attacked from the rear. The east shore of the river had been left wooded while the west side had been stripped bare for a least three hundred feet. That was called the West Clear Zone and the bridge that connected to it had been designed to be quickly dismantled. There was also a South Clear Zone but only on the east side of the river. Both clear zones would be populated with sharpened sticks facing away from the village. The idea was to allow the villagers trees to hide behind while the attackers were forced into the open and delayed by the sharpened sticks. Every villager knew how to shoot and arrows were plentiful. Laman had also designed the tables supplied with each cabin to fit between two specific trees. The villagers would be without tables during a siege but they would have extra protection against enemy arrows. Unfortunately, the south area did not have enough tables for all the trees.
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