by Curtis, Greg
“It is more than the simple fact that we find them disturbing and incomplete without a purpose. We also believe that they are those who are most open to corruption, the most likely to become dark.” There was some truth in that he realised, maybe even more than he liked to admit. All spellcasters were open to temptations others would never understand, and they needed a strong sense of will or morality to resist it, or at the least a strong set of laws. Maybe a strong sense of community could do just as well.
“But you have repeatedly shown by your actions, that you are neither a maverick nor a renegade, you are not purely self involved nor a seeker of great wealth. You have been expelled from a Guild it is true, but for a tragic mistake that you cannot undo, not a fault that you continue to flaunt. You have not forgotten your vows of service. At the risk of your own life you do serve the people, and there is no darkness in you, only sadness. Therefore you are not a maverick among us, you are a Mage.”
“You are considered wild because while you have shown us that you do serve the people, you have not yet found your calling. You are young yet and new among us so that is acceptable. But in time it is hoped that you will find the way in which you can best serve, your calling, and your title will change.” She was of course assuming that he planned on staying after the war was won, assuming they won it. Not that he had any plans to leave, or to stay for that matter. For the moment simply surviving was enough.
“You could become a village healer, a general village spellcaster, a diviner or enchanter, or even though it troubles us, a mage defender. Already you show strong tendencies towards that last, and while the people will accept it, it worries them. Mage defenders or battlemages, spellswords and warrior wizards as you know them, are frighteningly dangerous, are few in number and are only called when times are dark. But these are dark times and you may have been called.”
“That perhaps scares the people even more than you.”
Her words made sense to Marjan, and they put so many other little riddles he hadn’t understood into place, but they also disturbed him, especially the last because he knew what a battlemage was and he didn’t like it. Specialists in dealing death and destruction, they were the most feared among wizards and the least respected. They were the outcome of the times when wizards had gone to war, and the creators of so much misery and loss of life. They were the ones the bards sang of when they spoke of those dark days. Yet he had to admit that of late he had been thinking a lot about such things, he still wore his leather armour no matter how tatty it had become, and his strength had grown enormously, in response to battle.
Yet they made another decision easy, and he gathered a couple of pieces of enchanted broken tiles from the table for the meeting ahead and dropped them in a pocket, before he started heading for the town. The elders had a right to know what he was doing, and more than that a need.
“Whoa! And just where do you think you’re going?” Suddenly Essaline the stern schoolmistress had replaced Essaline the beautiful, complete with a serious tone to her voice and her hands on her hips, and he didn’t quite know why when he was only doing as she had asked. So he just pointed towards the debating chamber where he was expected and looked suitably confused.
“Four bells have only just rung, and you have plenty of time to bathe and dress, and put your weapons aside. There will be no more battle-axes and longbows in the debating chamber, no more torn leggings and smelly leather either. You will shave and your hair will be clean and tied back. This is a respectable village and it is time you learned that.” He would have objected at being treated like a small child, but Marjan doubted it would have helped. Essaline didn’t seem to be in a compromising mood.
“I have brought you some fresh clothes, a comb and a cake of sweet marjoram scented soap. Now if you would go and make use of it before I have to summon the town guards to force you into the tub I would be grateful.” She was smiling a little, but he didn’t doubt that she was serious, and perhaps she had reason to be if he was to meet her family. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass her, again. Besides, he had been busy of late, and perhaps his bathing had been a little less frequent than it should have been. On the other hand her orders gave him a somewhat cheeky idea.
“And will you stay to wash my back Mistress?” He had heard Petras say exactly the same thing to her once, surprised at how cheeky the lad could be, and laughed when she’d told him he was old enough to do it himself.
She turned back to face him, the oddest expression upon her face as if she didn’t quite believe he’d said such a thing, and suddenly he wasn’t quite so sure he had either. “I think not. At least not before dinner tonight, and not without some vows of marriage having been taken.”
“But it is good to know you are thinking ahead.” With no more than that and a smile on her face that would have made the dead sit up and take notice, she spun on her heels and left him, giggling as she went. Her laughter followed her all the way back to the village as did his eyes.
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“Tell us of yourself Marjan. We would know more of one who has saved our daughter and her charges.”
Obediently Marjan began telling Felesily as much as he could of his life story, that little which she and the rest of the town didn’t already know, and tried not to squirm too much in his seat. But at least it was a comfortable chair at the dining table, and secretly while the rest were speaking among themselves, he spent his time studying it and the table, fascinated by the joinery and woodwork that had gone into it. There was no doubt that the elves were master carpenters who put his rude attempts at building furniture to shame. There was also no doubt that he was planning on investing in some of their work when he had a little silver. He might even persuade them to spend a little time on his floors, even on his best days he could never have made a polish that shone so beautifully as theirs, or one that dried as hard to protect the underlying beauty of the timber.
On the other hand he wasn’t quite so enamoured of their architecture, and while he had to admire the strange, almost living, breathing beauty of their home, he didn’t truly understand it. He liked straight lines, and there wasn’t a single one other than the flatness of their floor in their home. Doorways were arches, and not elegant domes or archways but rather haphazardly shaped holes that were more or less door shaped, which made it hard to understand how they could have a door made to fit each arch so perfectly.
The walls too bulged and bent and curved in on themselves, and yet everywhere they twisted unexpectedly, it was almost intentional. Maybe it was intentional. So the main room, was almost divided into three separate chambers simply by the way the walls pinched together in different places, but that simply made for a kitchen area, a dining area, and a larger sitting room, all with furniture that not only looked perfectly in keeping with the rest of the house, but in many cases was actually a part of it. Thus the couches in the sitting area were actually parts of the walls which had seemingly just grown out of them at the right height, and then been covered with cushions.
“Ahh, I think I begin to see what it is that my daughter sees in you young Marjan. You are like a wounded bird lost from the nest, young and alone, and yet still trying to fly straight. She has always had a heart for such creatures.” Felesily spoke to him as if he was a child and perhaps she had the right, but still it annoyed Marjan, though he would never admit it. Not to an elder and not to Essaline’s mother.
“Thank you elder.” It had been a rude shock arriving with Essaline at the door to her family home, only to have it opened by one of the village elders, while another sat inside on an easy chair, playing a strange board game with the children while waiting patiently for him. But at least it explained why she was held in such high regard, or part of it. The other part of course was that she was a Teacher of the Way, or put in human terms, a priestess.
Though she’d told him that the first day she’d introduced herself to him, he hadn’t understood the true significance until some of the locals had e
xplained her position. It also explained why the captain had been so sharp with him. No one disrespected priestesses, not even in Gunder, and no one disrespected the elders either, or women for that matter, and she was a daughter from an important family and a priestess. To be less than respectful to her was to dishonour her sex, her family, her people and even her goddess as well, and he’d taken that lesson to heart.
“No, please do not thank me. It was not meant as either a compliment or a slight. Merely an observation. And please once more, call me Felesily. This is our home not the debating chamber.”
“Yes Felesily.” He did as she asked knowing that soon he would forget again and revert to his old ways. But it was hard sitting across the dinner table from two elders and trying desperately to make sure he said nothing wrong, even trying not to forget his table manners. Not for the first time he wished he’d studied more of the other peoples of the world and their ways when he’d been in the Guild. Of course at the time he’d only been concerned with learning new magic and would have thought such lessons a complete waste of time. He would never have imagined one day being in his current situation.
“Is that what it is mother? I thought it might be those powerful arms and eyes of steel blue. Essaline has always liked men of strength. And his hair, those strange curly locks of dark mahogany hanging down to his waist. A maiden’s hands could get lost in those.” Arvine giggled into her own hands as she said it while Marjan turned red and wondered what to say or where to look.
Essaline’s younger sister was far more precocious than he would have expected of any elf let alone an elven maiden, but then Essaline herself had said she was of an age where she found such things unexpectedly important, which was probably why she too was turning the colour of beetroot behind her hands, her meal forgotten. Meanwhile the children were giggling and grinning from ear to ear, all except Petras who was busily scooping away at his rabbit stew in between mouthfuls of the fresh bread. He knew what mattered.
“Arvine, that is enough.” Her father Maene spoke quietly from the other end of the dinner table, and it seemed to do the trick as Arvine started concentrating on her meal once more.
“My apologies Marjan. My daughter is young and presumptuous in the way of the young.” Of course young was relative and Arvine as far as he could tell was nearly his own age. But that was a child among elves and even Essaline herself, five or six years his senior was barely out of childhood as far as they were concerned.
“No apology is needed elder Maene. It is always nice to be complimented.” Immediately he spoke he felt like an idiot for saying anything, but it seemed to satisfy everyone for a while and they could return to their stew. Until Essaline broke the peace.
“In truth mother, what I see in Marjan here is not a wounded bird at all. The pain of his separation from the Guild is old, and though he carries it always, he does not live with it, while the sorrow for his mistake and the guilt has only served as lesson to make him fly true. What makes him the man he is is not that he attempts to fly, it is that he flies so well and so straight, never knowing another way. It is why I could name him a Mage of the Wilds without hesitation. He is what he is.” He was also embarrassed, being discussed so openly by everyone at the table, but that Marjan figured was something he could live with and it seemed that he would have to while he lived among the elves. They were much less concerned with matters of privacy than humans.
“Or it could have been the kissing.” Sassa spoke up perfectly on cue and suddenly Petras and Dorian were giggling like schoolgirls with her at the dinner table, while everyone’s head had suddenly turned to the child. Marjan just groaned silently and stared at the table instead, wondering how he was going to explain this one, and whether dinner was over. Maybe it would have been better if he hadn’t rescued all the children he thought as he felt the colour rise to his face once more.
“Kissing? Tell me more.” Naturally Arvine wasn’t going to let a statement like Sassa’s pass uncommented on and immediately the three cheeky little children were telling them all of everything they’d seen and heard after the battle at the bridge as if it was the latest news. It probably was to Essaline’s parents, and Marjan simply couldn’t face them as he kept staring at the table.
“That’s quite enough children. You’ve been taught better than to spread idle chatter.” Essaline was clearly made of sterner stuff as she chided the children, and it seemed to work as they quickly apologised and returned to their dinner, but unfortunately it didn’t work on the rest of her family.
“Idle chatter but truthful words daughter?” Felesily wasn’t so easily redirected, not by her own daughter, and it was Essaline’s turn to look a little embarrassed though she had done nothing wrong. Marjan suddenly knew he had to save her.
“It was entirely my fault elder. I had just finished the battle with the spider queen, and the magic was coursing through my flesh as it never had before. For a wizard that is an intoxicating brew and I was completely drunk on it, that and the overwhelming relief as I knew we weren’t going to die. Essaline came to me as I was on my hands and knees, thinking I was injured instead of simply exhausted and spell drunk, and I grabbed at her like an old souse grabs for a wine flask. It was utterly wrong of me and I have apologised to your daughter many times for my deplorable actions of that night as I apologise to you as well.”
“And yet Essaline has mentioned nothing of this to us.” Why was Felesily still looking at her daughter as she spoke, instead of him? He didn’t know and it troubled him, but still he had to defend her.
“Surely to protect me from the embarrassment of having committed such a disgraceful act. After all she is completely innocent of any wrong doing in this matter and so no shame is hers.”
“Or because she liked it.” Arvine spoke up once more from her seat, causing the children to burst into laughter once more, before her father looked at her once again and she returned to staring at her food, suitably chastised without a word being spoken. It seemed the elders ruled their home as well as the town.
“I did not speak of it because there was nothing to speak of. It was something that happened after the heat of battle and in the celebration of life that followed. Something unexpected, surprising, inappropriate and yet pleasing. But it is over, I have accepted Marjan’s apology knowing its truth and his embarrassment. Yet he has nothing to be ashamed of.” Suddenly she looked up at him, her eyes boring straight into his, and all the others turned to face him as well.
“He is young and passionate, ill disciplined, knows little of our customs, yet his heart is true. In time he will grow to become more than just a powerful mage and staunch warrior wizard or even a leader, he will become a great man. Someone of courage and compassion as well as knowledge and wisdom. Already he is well on the way down that path. How could I be upset when someone so worthy of my affection also finds me attractive, even when he shows it so inappropriately?” Worthy of her affection? Marjan was all but stupefied by the very thought that she could consider him an acceptable suitor, and for the longest time he sat there, mouth hanging, staring at her, and seeing nothing. Like a deer caught in an ambush he had no idea which way to turn or what to say.
“And what of you Marjan, do you find our daughter worthy of your affection?” Maene asked him the question directly and all he could think was that he was hearing things. How could anyone let alone her own father ask such a question when the answer was so obvious? But at least he finally knew what to say.
“Worthy? Your daughter is so far beyond worthy that I cannot say. She is beautiful, intelligent, warm hearted, kind, loyal and courageous and with a grace and a humour beyond my understanding. It is I who is unworthy.” Somehow he even found the strength to look her and then her parents in the eye as he said it, making sure they knew the truth of his words.
“Felesily?” Maene looked at his wife and she looked back at him, while Marjan was unable to even guess what they were thinking. Nor he guessed was Essaline as she stared at them, more than curiou
s. In fact she looked as though her life depended on whatever they thought of what had been said. At least though they didn’t take long to reach a decision.
“Essaline dear heart, we shall speak of this later.” It was a dismissal, Marjan knew that and so did Essaline as she nodded almost imperceptibly to her mother, while he wondered what would be said and if he’d ever be invited back to their home. But at least they didn’t seem angry and no one had mentioned calling the town guards.
“So Marjan you were telling us of how the children were making your life difficult?” Perfectly on cue, elves he’d discovered were good at such things, Felesily returned the conversation back to what it had been before they had become side tracked, and with sense of relief he started telling them of how half a dozen naked tykes had started playing tag in his home while he had not known what to do except threaten them with starvation. It seemed to ease things once more and even brought a smile to the women’s faces from time to time.