“Thank you, Instructor,” Daniel replied, and then quieted, unsure of what else needed to be said.
Jason put the amulet in his inner pocket and then returned to the matter at hand, evidently the reply was adequate. “You will be given your schedule in the morning. Keep company with either Jerremy or Samuel until you are familiar with this facility and the customs of Aakadon.”
“Yes, Instructor, your will be done,” Daniel said, knowing his reply was appropriate.
Jason smiled. “You are learning,” he said, then turned and exited the room.
“You never told us about being trained by the Maestro of the Zephyr Guild,” Samuel blurted out after they were alone in the room, his tone accusatory, as if he somehow had a right to know. “I bet you conjured the tornado everyone talked about.”
Neither of the Talenteds deserved an explanation as far as Daniel was concerned. He could not afford to make the mistake of trusting them again; they would blab to Jason at the first opportunity. “You never asked. Besides, Terroll wasn’t a Maestro then.”
Samuel frowned and unfortunately looked ready to ask another question. “Fine, a highly experienced four-bolt Accomplished. If he taught you every spell and some specialized ones that would make you more advanced than me and Jerremy. I know most of the spells and only need to master another ten. Do you know the spell of Ranking?”
The Teki insisted on prying into matters that were clearly not his business. “I know all of the spells,” Daniel replied, and faced Mr. Eyebrows directly. “I don’t want to talk about this.” The talk was getting too close to rank.
Sure enough, Samuel’s eyebrows drew together as if, in his estimation, he deserved better. “Talk is cheap, mountaineer. I don’t believe you know half what you claim!”
That belief suited Daniel just fine. He hoped everyone underestimated him; maybe they would leave him alone.
Jerremy took hold of the Teki’s shoulder and then released him after getting his attention. “The Ducaunan doesn’t want to confide in us. He believes we betrayed him with our reports,” he told him, proving the Serinian’s perception to be greater than he let on; feigning disinterest while actually being quite attentive.
Samuel opened his mouth as if to say something, but not sure what. He stood looking back and forth between Jerremy and Daniel as if he did not believe what he heard. Clearly, the thought never crossed his mind. While he contemplated, his eyebrows separated, somewhat, he actually appeared hurt by the suggestion. “I wouldn’t.., we didn’t..; none of us betrayed you.”
Daniel sighed, realizing the truth of it; decent sleep may have helped him see it sooner. “No, you didn’t. I betrayed myself.”
An awkward silence fell over them, interrupted only by the occasional passers by in the hall. Jerremy rubbed his belly dramatically. “I don’t know about you two, but I’m starved. We should go to the cafeteria before the kitchen closes.”
The Serinian had come up with a course of action they all could agree on, seeing as none of them had eaten since breakfast. The change in topic was most welcome. The cafeteria, a room with over a hundred tables, turned out to be located on the first floor, and there were several hundred Talenteds still eating. Daniel took his place in line and accepted a slice of pork with potatoes and green peas on the side. Jerremy, his plate loaded with food, led the way to an empty table near the exit, with Samuel and his plate bringing up the rear.
The kitchen door swung opened and the cook came out with more food for the line. Between the swings Daniel caught a glimpse of Tim, dressed in white linen, standing beside a large sink washing dishes. The drummer was no stranger to that kind of work, though Daniel did feel a little guilty knowing the toil was because of him.
He eyed the people around the room, some of which were pointing at his buckskins and snickering, others gave him looks filled with contempt. He ignored them for the most part, but wondered where all the humility was he had been told about. There were no Accomplisheds in the room that they knew of, perhaps that explained it. It would never do for them to know the man they were looking at with contempt had a potential matching that of the Grand Maestro. He smiled. Their reaction actually was for the best; none of them would ever suspect his rank.
Sherree entered the dining area and went over to a table occupied by two young women. One had curly red hair and the other had straight hair the color of wheat. Both were pretty in their own way, but not like Sherree, who glanced at Daniel frequently. Her expression was difficult to read.
“She likes you,” Samuel told him after swallowing a mouth full of pork. “She wouldn’t interrupt an Instructor in an attempt to get me out of trouble.”
“That’s because you deserve what you get,” Jerremy volunteered, though his opinion had not been sought after.
Samuel flushed red and glowed with potential for what promised to be a nasty spell, and then paused, seeming to think better of it, the glow vanished, and he wisely decided to engage in verbal combat. The conversation soon degenerated into insult for insult and ignoring them both proved to be easy enough.
Daniel was more interested in Sherree. He waited for her to glance in his direction again and then mouthed the words, “Thank you,” to her. After all, she did try to get him out of trouble with the Instructor and her rejuvenating spell was keeping him semi-functional. She seemed to understand what he was trying to communicate. A smile appeared on her face and she suddenly had that hawk to mouse look in her eyes. The look made him feel uncomfortable, yet it seemed to be a natural expression for her, so maybe he was making too much of it.
He should not have trusted her or the other two. At the same time, they never meant him any harm and not once tried to lead him to believe their intention was anything other than to bring him to Aakadon; everything beyond that was his own imagination. That brief concert had lulled Daniel into thinking of the Talenteds as friends. His true friend was presently handing a cup to a ten year old boy who, in all likelihood, had not even begun the level one course on spell casting. The boy was probably still learning how to play an instrument; a skill that absolutely had to be mastered before training in spell casting could begin.
Daniel finished eating and headed back upstairs along with Jerremy and Samuel, both seemed surprised he remembered the way back through the maze of corridors they had passed to get to the cafeteria. A good hunter can learn a path quickly whether in a dense forest or a gemstone jungle like Aakadon. Daniel did not make a single wrong turn, even though the white marble walls and floors were practically identical; only distinguishable by minute flaws in the corners and baseboards. Except for the comfortable temperature, the dormitory was like navigating through a gigantic snow drift. It was certainly in need of a little contrast in color. This building was the least adorned structure in Aakadon.
They arrived in the room to find a skinny, pale complexioned, sandy-haired young man holding white silks and a pair of shiny white boots in his hands. “These are for you,” he said, and held them out to Daniel.
Daniel accepted the garments and then glanced around the room for a place to change. The problem with these living quarters was the lack of privacy. He gave up and focused on the young Talented, “Is there a place I can change?”
Jerremy smiled; an event that was rare for him. “We change in here. What’s the matter, are you mountain men shy?”
The question was not far from accurate. Changing clothes in front of strangers held little appeal, though shyness was not the true concern; six golden lightning bolts was the real problem. Daniel rolled his eyes upward, asking for strength. Why did the simplest things have to be so difficult? “I like my privacy,” he replied evenly.
Samuel laughed and finally brought himself back under control just enough to say, “Simon, you tell him,” and then chuckled merrily.
The sandy-haired Talented did not smile or make fun in any way; he pursed his lips and nodded sympathetically. “The washroom is three doors down the hall and to the right.”
“Thanks
,” Daniel replied, and then exited to the sound of Jerremy and Samuel snickering. So what? Let them think whatever they wanted; so long as they never suspect the truth.
The washroom had seven bathtubs, seven privies with water cabinets above them, and seven sinks, all made of immaculate white marble. Gold pipes protruded from the walls and curved down into the basins. Every fixture, handle, and doorknob in the building seemed to be made of the precious metal. Not one of the sinks and tubs had a pump handle; only those curved pipes.
Daniel placed a shield spell on the door only a full Accomplished using a crescendo could break; and he would know if one tried. He stripped off his clothes, climbed into the tub, and played the Melody, Spout a Leak, in his mind to summon the potential. Cold water flowed from the pipe and filled the tub, so he cast a heat spell to warm it up enough to make steam rise around him. It was a good thing he taught himself to compartmentalize his mind, otherwise he would never have been able to maintain the shield spell and summon water at the same time, doing so was not easy but he could manage.
Tension he was not aware of eased out of his muscles and he relaxed; closing his eyes, and quickly reopened them, someone was attempting to break his shield. The potential being used against him was weak and dissipated quickly. Whoever was out there tried three more times and gave up. In a way the attempt was a blessing, keeping him alert. He could not afford to lose concentration on the shield spell nor fall asleep. A visit with the Dark Maestro was not desirable at the present time, or ever. It was not worth the risk so he got out of the tub and dried off using a wind spell, modifying it to be warm.
He separated his white silks and then put on his new underpants, outer pants, boots, shirt, and hooded cloak. They fit him well, though the material felt strange against his skin, not bad, just different; wearing silk would take some getting used to. He ceased the shield Melody and went back down to the room where forty-two Talenteds, between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five, turned at once to see the new arrival.
“What kind of shield did you put on the washroom door?” inquired a curly-haired, slightly plump, fellow wearing nothing but his underpants. “Four of us tried to break in.”
Were these young men or children? Daniel shook his head, wondering if any of them could act their age. He walked to his bed and pulled the sheets back. Everyone was staring and likely would not leave him alone until he answered the question. “I used, Protecting Another, it is spell number eighteen of the Eagle Guild,” he told them, but left out that it had been cast with considerably more potential than was called for.
“I thought it was something like that,” The curly-haired Talented replied as if he had known all along. He scratched the end of his beak of a nose and sat down on his bed.
“Burten, you don’t even know spell ten of the Eagle Guild,” said a stout Talented with skin the color of light brown sugar, brown hair, and brown eyes, from two beds away. He threw a pillow at the other Talented.
“I do so,” Burten replied while throwing the pillow back. “Spell ten is, Defend Us.”
“That is spell number eight,” Daniel told them. “Spell ten is, Cleansing the Thought.”
Burten frowned, evidently not appreciating the correction. “You’re a Potential fresh out of the woods. You should be in bed forty-three. We all had to move down a bed. How is it you get to be in bed two? What makes you so special?” he demanded hotly.
Jerremy stood up. He was the second tallest person in the room since Daniel’s arrival, but he was still quite a bit taller and more muscular than everyone else and difficult to ignore. “This is Daniel Benhannon. The Ducaunan is no Potential. He is a fourth level Talented trained by Maestro Terroll Barnes of the Zephyr Guild and I suggest you not forget it.”
Daniel was surprised at being defended by the Serinian, why was he helping? None of the Talenteds dared question the word of the top ranked Aakacarn among them. The matter was resolved. Even those who clearly disliked the Serinian believed him. Burten calmed himself, nodded his acceptance without saying a word, and then crawled under the sheets of bed number forty-three. Everyone else went about the business of getting ready for bed, nearly all of them stripping to their underpants.
Daniel removed his boots and hooded cloak, folded it neatly, and placed it on the night table. He stretched out on the bed and pulled up the covers. The mattress proved to be extremely comfortable, which was a pity since he dared not fall asleep, hard as a board or horribly lumpy would have served better. He smiled at the irony of finally having a bed fit for a lord and not being able to enjoy it.
“Do you plan to sleep with your clothes on?” Samuel whispered as the lamps around the room were extinguished one by one.
“Yes,” Daniel replied softly, knowing he could not strip and risk showing his lightning bolts. “Good night,” he added; at least the Talented could have one.
“You too,” Samuel replied and then put out his lamp.
“Ducaunans are peculiar,” Jerremy commented in the dark. “And mountaineers even more so.”
Sure, like flatlander’s aren’t, Daniel thought while staring up at the ceiling. Moonlight shined through the windows on the far wall turning the white marble into a dark gray and someone eight beds away began to snore, which would have been annoying any other time. Now, the noise was welcome and preferable to falling asleep and facing Tarin Conn. Whispered conversations died down until Daniel knew he was the only person still awake.
- - - - - - - -
Simon Trenca lay awake on bed ten, nine used to be his for the longest time until the new Talented came and was assigned bed two, and everybody had to shift down. That had been a surprise for one to start so high. But then, Simon figured he should not have been surprised after all the talk of an extraordinarily gifted Potential being discovered in Ducaun. Sherree, Jerremy, and Samuel had been sent to discover the source of the High Powered spell. All Simon knew was that the Serpent Guild had been involved and the Talenteds played some part in the Battle of Bashierwood. The part they and Daniel Benhannon had played was not widely known, but Simon stayed quiet and paid attention, so knew more than most of his peers. It was amazing how much one could learn by being unobtrusive.
A few marks earlier or so Simon had been walking from the washroom and was intercepted by Instructor Renn and informed that the new Potential had arrived, was given his size, and assigned to fetch silks and a pair of boots. He could tell by the dimensions of the clothes that the Ducaunan was a big guy, as are most of the men from that kingdom. Not long after that, the mountaineer entered the dorm room wearing dyed buckskins. There were mountain men in Battencay where Simon was born but they did not dye their buckskins. Daniel was six and a half cubits in height, taller than Jerremy, but equally muscled, and the Ducaunan’s hair was dark brown, almost black; as were his eyes. He appeared to be exhausted at the time, perhaps a result of a difficult journey. When he started looking for a private place to change, Simon sympathized, especially when Jerremy and Samuel started making fun of the man’s shyness.
When Daniel entered the room after changing, every eye was drawn to him and that’s when Simon realized there was something about this new Talented; he was impossible to ignore. Anyone who wanted to ignore him had to work at it. They could like him or dislike him but Daniel Benhannon had a presence about him that could not be denied. Simon liked to uncover mysteries, almost as much as seeing Accomplisheds of the Willow Guild grow plants. Everyone in the room, except Jerremy and Samuel, had been speculating why a Potential had been placed among the fourth level Talenteds and given second place in the room. Then it came out; Daniel Benhannon had been trained by the Maestro of the Zephyr Guild. Simon determined to find out more about this quiet young man who had moved into his home.
He had few fond memories of his former home, an orphanage in the city of Battencane. His Potential had been discovered when he was five years of age by an Accomplished of the Willow Guild who had come to cause the crops to grow after a drought had devastated much of the surr
ounding farmland, along with a very small patch of vegetables behind the orphanage. Simon was brought to Aakadon shortly there after. He knew the city inside and out and was considered a prodigy. It seemed he could make music from any instrument he laid his hands on and in a short time master them enough to use them as crescendos.
Simon cleared the thoughts of the orphanage from his mind and rolled over in his bed. He made a decision, he would do what he could to help this shy, but gifted, Talented adjust to life in Aakadon. The adjustment had been easy for Simon, he had come so young, but Daniel was starting life among the Aakacarns as an adult, and from a kingdom where spell casters are feared. Yes, Simon thought, I am going to help him.
Chapter Five: The Lessons Begin
Light streamed in through the windows, the top half of which were prisms, bathing the room in rainbow colors. Daniel threw off his covers and swung his feet over the side. The arm on the chrono disk pointed to the sixth mark. His silks were badly wrinkled so he stood and cast the laundering spell he had modified back in Bashierwood, repairing any damage along with the cleaning. He smiled at the results; the garments were now cleaner looking than when Simon had presented them.
“You’re good,” Burten commented as he was pulling up his pants. “It takes me a tenth of a mark to get mine clean and then about a third again as much time to get rid of the wrinkles. You did the whole thing instantly.”
The spell required minimal concentration as far as Daniel was concerned, having not given it much thought. The Aakacarn was easily impressed. “I’ve seen Jerremy launder his just as quickly,” he replied.
Burten glanced at the Serinian, who was in the process of dressing. “Yes, but he is the top ranked Talented in our class.”
Samuel stood up while donning his hooded cloak. “Sherree is,” he corrected and then gave the Serinian a sharp look, as if daring him to claim otherwise.
To Challenge a Maestro Page 7