In fact, due to the small size of the garrison, in addition to the fact that twenty men from Bereofs Town were also now housed here, the hundred strong column that had set out from Valheimer’s garrison, would be camping outside the walls of Oak Keep.
Bernhart informed Garel though, as the still smartly dressed wizard greeted the garrison commander, that rooms had been found within Oaks Keep itself for him and his fellow officers. A petition was also put to Bernhart on Raeknor’s behalf by Torr. Whilst not a military officer, he held an equivalent rank as a magistrate. Raeknor was still well to the back of the column with the caravans and was busy sorting out the logistical supplies. The young magistrate had found time to get word to Torr, whilst they marched south, that a proper bed would be appreciated. The request was gratuitously accepted by Bernhart, but on the understanding that Raeknor would be sharing a room with them anyway as there were only two spare rooms between all the officers (which now included the captains of Bereofs Town and the Oak Keep garrison as well).
Garel and his officers were introduced to the various heads of the faculty here, each seemingly far more obvious about their profession in their dress and mannerisms. They were also given a quick tour of just part of the library which had apparently been extended into two levels of vaults below them and a second level built around the circumference of the original keep, with the possibility of a third being added, as the keep’s notoriety for being a repository of all knowledge grew.
Even the small glimpse they had of what they were told was just part of the library complex was inspiring, particularly to Raeknor, who was the most bookish of the three young men. They also had a large apothecary facility as well, the practical benefits of which Garel was quick to note as this would be the nearest place for them to bring back any wounded they had.
As they took in the sights of Oaks Keep, Torr was amazed how large it all looked given the size of the outer wall of the settlement itself. It had also taken them a lot longer to walk around the circumference than the outside of the building had suggested, and that was only a portion of the first floor. A young man found them, out of breath, which again Torr found strange as it looked like he could have run around the outside of Oaks Keep without breaking a sweat. The shaven headed apprentice was dressed in a very plain brown robe. He did not speak, but merely looked at Bernhart and the other wizards who were with them. “Ah, supper is ready for us gentleman”.
“How the hells did he know that?” whispered Carodin to Torr, “he hadn’t said anything”.
They were accompanied to the fourth floor of the keep. Torr also made a mental note to check how many floors there were when he got outside the keep afterwards as, looking up the large staircase, it seemed the stairs wound on for several more floors, which was at odds with the relatively modest height of the main tower when viewed from the outside.
Torr was therefore starting to become slightly less surprised when he saw the size of the room into which they were escorted by Bernhart and three other wizards, who remained with them for the evening. It seemed as large as the main hall where Garel gave his briefing to the officers in the keep at the garrison around a ten-day ago now, but that keep had a far larger and squarer circumference than Oaks Keep itself. Naturally, none of the wizards made any reference to any illusions or enchantments that they, or the keep itself, were subject to.
However, since arriving Torr had that same sensation on the back of his neck as he did when he met Bernhart Rowe for the first time. In addition, a feeling almost like pins and needles was developing at the ends of his fingers. He had mentioned it to Carodin as they were being shown around but the Tantes man looked at Torr blankly. Torr wondered if it was just some strange manifestation of nerves, so he tried to forget it.
Torr had also found it strange that there did not seem to be many wizards about. He had presumed Oaks Keep would be brimming with them but, if you did not know where you were, it would just seem like a very small, but normal, settlement. As it turned out, the subject formed part of the party’s polite conversation over the dinner table where it transpired there were around fifty residents here who were either described as practioners’ of magic or gatherers of lore, but many more apprentices. That made Torr wonder even more where most of them were.
During their after dinner conversation, a similarly brown dressed young man (Torr could not tell if it was the same person that had found them earlier) entered the room with another guest, Ahred Uhler himself. Ahred stated - having sat down without asking and tucking into the fare on the table without thought of a plate - that his scouts confirmed Garel’s column had indeed been watched from mid way through the afternoon, but without any obvious sign that the gaestnips were aware of their intention. The gaestnip scouts were not hurriedly running back towards their camp, just observing the column as The Dog Pack, in turn, observed the gaestnip scouts. As agreed, they had been left alone but it was now agreed between Ahred and the other officers that, tomorrow morning, any new gaestnip scouts that took up watch were to be dispatched.
Once the column reached the path that led to the bandit camp and left the turnpike, any rouse that they were just a passing military column would be over straight away. If the gaestnip scouts could be disposed of when the column turned off the road, this would mean that the only warning the bandits would get would be just what their own lookouts on the guard towers gave to the camp as a whole when the column of men came into view.
At this point, Bernhart clarified (stating he was obviously going to mention the point anyway) that the path off the turnpike, which led directly to the bandit camp was possibly two miles long, but that visibility from the guard towers on the palisade was half that at the most, given the tree lined nature of the path. Bernhart also confirmed, to Raeknor’s worried questioning, that the path was wide enough for their caravan of false siege equipment. After all, the gaestnips needed a path wide enough to drag all the caravans and plunder they had looted from passing merchants, so it was well used again.
The officers agreed that they would simply continue in column formation until the gaestnips knew they were coming, so as not to exhaust the men by running until it was completely necessary.
Once they had lost this element of surprise they would take up position in the formations shown on Garel’s map, which Garel had brought with him for the benefit of the two officer’s from Oaks Keep and Bereofs Town, although Bernhart confessed he had already verbally outlined this to the two men, with all due haste. If the gaestnips panicked and decided their only option was to rush them, Garel and Braetol agreed it was likely they would do so when the men were still in their marching columns.
The final parts of the plan agreed, Ahred left to rejoin his men, assuring the weald officers’ that the gaestnips had no idea that his mercenary company was there.
Torr’s fingers were now starting to itch, despite his best efforts to ignore them. He could see a couple of the wizards looking at him as their evening concluded and the officers were shown to their quarters. Torr, Carodin and Raeknor were given one room and the three other guest officers being shown the way by the garrison commander of Oaks Keep, whose own room he was partially giving up. The three young men followed Bernhart who offered to show them their room, a floor below. The corridors seemed strangely tight and twisty. Before long, Torr had lost his bearings. To ensure they did not lose their way in the morning Bernhart confirmed that an apprentice would escort them first thing, back out to the rest of the men.
“Is something troubling you there young Captain Skarsdale?” Bernhart enquired as Torr once again shook and scratched his hands. “Umm...it’s nothing I’m sure” responded Torr. Carodin and Raeknor looked at him with some concern.
“Nothing more than nerves I suspect”, continued Bernhart, “but if you would like to accompany me, I believe our apothecary will still be in his ahh... workshop, and that he has something for such a thing”.
Something in Bernhart’s tone told Torr this really was not a suggestion being ma
de out of polite conversation so Torr dutifully followed the wizard down, what he thought, was a different flight of stairs. By this time, he could not be sure.
As they descended the stairs, Bernhart continued with his conversation quite matter of factly even though the topic was anything but. “Actually Torr”, this was the first time Bernhart had been familiar enough (overly familiar by the standard of Torr’s upbringing and schooling) to use his first name. “The symptoms you are feeling are unlikely to be nerves but an indicator that you may have some innate magical ability”.
Bernhart dropped this bombshell just as he opened a door in the corridor they had come to, motioning the, stunned, Torr inside. “I’m sorry!?” Torr just stood in the doorway, part perplexed and part angry that the wizard, whom he was just starting to respect, would mention such a thing so casually. Torr wondered if this was just some form of joke. It was the sort of thing Raeknor would come up. He followed the wizard into the room, half expecting to see the young magistrate jump out of one of the large cabinets, which were stood in each corner of the room.
There was also one long alchemy table running across the room, but no benches to sit on. All the shelves on each of the four walls seemed overflowing and the aroma was rather overpowering, not that Torr could place a single smell currently assaulting his nose.
A variety of implements lay on the table with various ingredients left out, but no sign of anyone using the room currently.
“If I am not mistaken, you sensed a feeling on the back of your neck when we first met in Paega, am I correct?” continued Bernhart, seemingly not in the slightest bit concerned that he had just uttered a phrase likely to turn anyone’s life upside down.
“What...umm...yes, yes I did. Wait....are you saying...”
“Indeed I am young man” responded Bernhart, still not paying Torr any real attention. Instead, he was setting up two candles on the table as he continued. “That is a build up of magical energy making its presence felt when it senses a similar force which, in that case, was me. And it has now become even more apparent in a place full of magical energy such as this”. Bernhart made a sweeping gesture with his arm as he continued to focus, for some reason, on the two candles that he had just set up. Neither were lit.
“But that means you’ve known for ages” Torr felt himself becoming angry at Bernhart for not telling him and, at the same time, scared of the revelation itself. “So...what...you decided the best time to fucking tell me is the night before we go into battle?”
Bernhart casually ignored the young man’s expletives and rising temper. “Ahh...uhhuh, yes that’s right. Could I ask you to focus on these two candles please young man”. Bernhart stood to one side and pointed to one large thin red candle and a smaller, fatter, blue candle. His last words uttered as if he was paying no attention or showing any concern for the young man’s plight behind him.
The tingling in Torr’s fingers was growing as he became increasingly angry with the wizard’s nonchalance and sudden lack of tact.
“Now look here, I don’t give a shit who you think you are but in case it had escaped your notice, there is a chance tomorrow that me, or people I know, could very well die. I haven’t seen action before so I’d appreciate it if you could keep your...” At that point Torr realised the tingling sensation had gone, Bernhart was beaming at him and the long red candle was now alight, albeit only just.
“Wait...have I done...what, you weren’t joking. Really, I’ve made that candle...” Torr was dumbfounded to the core and just stood there, looking at the flame, pointing.
“Indeed, you have young man” said Bernhart, now sounding far more affable. “Congratulations, it would seem you may have an affinity for pyromancy. The blue candle denotes a young wizard who is more likely, initially at least, to start controlling water or ice, which is known as aquamancy. There are quite a few other types of elemental control and conjurations that can manifest themselves initially, for which we have several other types of catalysts. However, the symptoms you displayed are strong indicators of either the above mentioned forms of magic use.”
Torr was still standing there, open mouthed, unable to process what had occurred, although his anger had subsided, along with the pins and needles in his fingers.
“But...” was all he could manage.
“We do have some understanding you see of recognising the signs, saves setting out all the catalysts at the same time. Fire and water are difficult to distinguish though, for some reason”. Bernhart had been in the process of putting the candles away whilst talking to Torr (having put out the flame himself) but stopped as his last comments seemed to give him cause to ponder this point. Torr was just stood there now, still open mouthed, his arm that had been pointing at the candle now fallen limply by his side.
Bernhart seemed to snap his thoughts back into focus. “Oh, apologies for my unpleasantness as well dear boy only, you see, anger and stress are the most likely emotions to bring out any hidden talents. Here...”. He took hold of Torr’s shoulder and shuffled him back a bit, towards a chair that was almost behind the door. Torr half fell into the seat, before Bernhart continued his explanation. “So, you see, the last thing I wanted was for your newly discovered ability to manifest itself outside of a controlled environment and certainly not on a battlefield”. Torr was starting to feel the colour drain from his face.
“The candles you see are specially designed to channel any new found magical energy and dissipate it safely, thus ensuring the young warlock lives for another day, and those who intend to tutor him have a way of ensuring there are no magical accidents. I am afraid there are too many documented accounts of young men and women only finding out about their rare talents during an argument with loved ones or in times of mortal fear, only to set fire, disintegrate or transmute either themselves or those around them. So you see, young Torr, my last wish was for you to discover your magical affinity on the battlefield tomorrow by torching either yourself, half your men or, Sunlord forbid, me!”
Torr managed a half nod. Bits of what Bernhart was saying were starting to register but he had a horrible feeling he was in shock.
“So I hope you will forgive my rudeness, but it is the quickest way to resolve the test and I am afraid we were pressed for time”.
Torr felt his hands and torso were shaking a little as well now.
“Oh, and another thing. I am afraid that after the first use of magical energy, that most apprentices are often...”
Torr vomited on the floor.
“Sick... oh well, not the first time that’s happened so, don’t worry, I will find someone to clean that up. Why don’t you go and sit over there now instead”. Bernhart indicated to a sturdy looking foot locker up against the next wall.
“In the meantime” Bernhart helped Torr up and escorted him away from the remains of his earlier meal whilst reaching into his jacket pocket and removing a small flask, unscrewing the top. “I suggest you take a big gulp of this”. He offered the flask to Torr, who took it now feeling physically overwhelmed and just looked at it. “Don’t worry dear boy, it’s perfectly safe, here, look”. Bernhart took the flask back and took a swig. “See”. He offered the flask back to Torr who just did as he was told and took a big gulp and swallowed.
He did so just as they reached the chest where he sat down heavily as Bernhart released him.
There was an instant burning at the back of Torr’s throat that almost made him spit out the concoction but, at the same time, something slightly familiar. “Demon’s tits!” he exclaimed almost choking. “What is that?”
“Whiskey!” responded Bernhart, grinning.
*****************************************
Before Bernhart went to find someone with a mop, he left the flask with Torr, who was still just sitting there, trying to gather his thoughts and come to terms with what had just happened. All worries about tomorrow now completely gone from his mind at this point, nor was his focus on the flask. It was only absent mindedly that he took anot
her swig, just coughing this time, as he started to get used to the initial strength and the following earthy taste and aroma it left.
Questions were now building in his mind faster than the manifestation of magic that he just produced, his mind wanting to burst in a similar fashion.
He had just decided that the best course of action would be to take a third swig when Bernhart returned although the wizard still seemed to be on his own. After checking on Torr’s welfare, he suggested they maybe comfier in a nearby lounge. Bernhart led Torr out of the alchemist’s laboratory, back along the corridor. Torr could not tell if they were heading back towards the stairs or deeper into this level of the keep.
Bernhart opened another door in the corridor that led into a softly lit lounge, with comfy looking sofas. There was a slightly sweet, but not unpleasant, aroma coming from the candles in here. Torr was assured by Bernhart that these particular candles were non magical so they were perfectly safe from Torr’s new powers.
Bernhart invited Torr to ask him any questions he wanted, which resulted in a torrent of seemingly unstoppable requests for information.
Bernhart had reiterated that what had just happened to Torr actually happens across the globe far more regularly than anyone might consider.
“We regularly receive visits from parents at their wits’ end when their young son or daughter, often many years younger than you, has set fire to their crops for the fifth time. Some have very strong natural abilities and some are far more modest. From your demonstration I believe that you will...ahh...fall into the latter category”. Bernhart looked down a little when he said this. Torr gained the impression that he had never got used to telling each new wizard he encountered that they would not, quite literally, be setting the world of Gaerd alight. As a case in point, Torr felt slightly deflated at this news. He was just starting to marvel at his situation and had somehow hoped that he could now, single handed, vanquish the foe tomorrow.
Fates Choice Page 12