Maverick

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Maverick Page 32

by Curtis, Greg


  It was a battle of course, a contest of will and inertia, as each time he pushed the dimensions one way they tried to return, almost as if he was pushing against rubber, but he still kept pushing, breaking down the barriers. Slowly at first but then faster until they were flickering like sunlight through the trees as you ran through them, the two locations began running together. One heartbeat the Allyssian Forest, a heartbeat later Evensong and then back again, and between each flash a blast of magical whiteness that blinded them all and made even the sun seem dull while the ground shook constantly.

  The magic involved was complex and immense and it resisted him all the way, but he discovered with a sense of triumph that he was stronger, the sylph’s training having made him far more capable than he had been before, far more able to concentrate when he needed to, far more able to hold a spell even when it fought him, far more able to fight, and slowly the flickering began to slow all around them, the land under their feet stopped shaking and the dizziness began to pass. The important thing however was that the inertia of the dimensions had been broken and reformed, and now as the two locations began swapping places outside his barriers, it was the turn of Evensong to appear by itself in the distance, while the Allyssian forest became less and less able to stay. Like a man having crossed a mountain pushing a boulder up it, he was now heading down the other side, looking for the even ground and trying to stop the boulder from running away from him and smashing into the distance.

  Then, with one final bang as the land under their feet locked itself into place in its new home, the flickering stopped and looking out through the barriers, he could see the Evensong Glade, not to mention one somewhat angry looking Master Silas and a lot of druids and elders beside him. Captain Saul and the rest of the Wild Sage Rangers were also there, weapons at the ready, and shocked looks plastered over their faces. Probably they’d never seen this magic in action before, it was pure guild, but for the captain it was probably more than that. His pet mage was acting without his permission and it might reflect badly on him and the troop.

  Marjan laughed then, a small weak and somewhat pitiful sound but still a laugh, as he knew he’d done it, brought his cottage and all the people with him all the way to Evensong in a matter of minutes, and strangest of all, it hadn’t been as hard as he’d imagined. Though he was all but exhausted as he let the barriers collapse, he knew he would recover quickly, and in a day or two, assuming he had the will and the need, he could probably have done it again.

  Of course first he might have to do some explaining.

  He knew that the moment he spotted Elder Lorelli standing not twenty paces from him, hands gripped tightly on her staff, and no trace of a smile on her face. She was not happy, but then elves didn’t like surprises and this was quite a large one.

  “Elder.” He bowed to her as best he was able, and then promptly fell to his knees, surprised to discover that his body had no strength left, and that there was sweat falling off him in small rivers. Still he had to continue, he had to explain.

  “My cottage, my library, and some more friends, allies.” He gestured behind him, trying to at least begin the introductions properly, but instead pitched forwards into the soft ground, unable to stop himself. He knew then that he didn’t have much time left before he lost consciousness. The bear cub knew the same as she came to him and started nuzzling at his face, worried, and he was grateful for her company even if he didn’t know why she’d been released. He was grateful when the captain and the others came close as well, he simply didn’t have the strength to shout any more. He could barely speak.

  “Inside, tome of Mythos, tales of the void, journal of Hespris the Wild and Gallanar’s works. Many more. For the wizards. For the war.” It was about then that his tongue stopped working, apparently having run out of strength, but then that was quite acceptable to him as the world was also going black all around him. He only hoped that they understood him.

  Yet even as he lapsed into darkness he knew one thing more important to him than anything else, after all this time, he was finally home. After that, he no longer cared.

  ****************

  Chapter Twelve.

  Marjan found himself humming with pleasure as he went about his cleaning, only too pleased to be able to once more work on his old cottage. It had been so long since he had left it, and working on it, even cleaning it with his hands, was somehow like reacquainting himself with an old friend. Actually it was like being home, after having been away for so long, but then it was his home, just in a new place.

  The fresh smell of the pine logs and their sap, the scent of the wood polish, the feel of the solid wood floors, cool and strong under his fingers, the squeak of the doors as they swung shut, all of these were more than familiar to him, they were almost a part of him, and he’d missed them more than he’d known. Was it any wonder then that he wanted them back? Or that when he had them back, for however long or short a time as he might be allowed to keep them, he wanted them once more in pristine condition?

  Sumas and his family had been found quarters in the town elsewhere, just for themselves, something which they were no doubt overjoyed about, and his skills as a blacksmith and swordsmith were already in demand. The dryads were busy building themselves some new nests just outside of the town, solid buildings and thousands of noisy people weren’t for them, but their skills too would be welcomed, especially as they helped with the gardens, raising more food for the overcrowded town. And that had unexpectedly left him with his old cottage once more returned to him, and though he hadn’t asked for permission to return to it, he would in time and he had some hope that it would be permitted. In the meantime he simply had to return it to its best, no matter who ended up living there. It might be an obsession, but it wasn’t a choice. It was also a lot of work.

  Already he’d removed all the furniture which was now sitting outside on what remained of his front yard, and spent a good few hours washing and beating the rugs, polishing the benches and chairs, and soaping down the floors, while bucket after bucket of dirty water was now soaking into his new vegetable gardens which thanks to the dryads were overflowing with produce. The rangers had started harvesting them that very morning and he was looking forwards to a good meal that night. Food from his own garden. It had been a long time since he had eaten his own fare and the very thought filled him with longing, as did the memory of potatoes.

  The windows had been cleaned so that they sparkled in the sunlight, and the curtains washed and dried to remove the stains and the smell of wood smoke. Now he was getting into the loft, cleaning out months of grime while the bedding aired on the rails on the balcony, and later he had hopes of starting in on oiling the floor and maybe even thatching the roof, it had seen better days. In time he was already thinking about perhaps replacing it completely.

  The thatch looked good and it somehow seemed to fit with the town’s architecture, but his experience with the tiles of his other cottage had been rewarding and they would not need any work done on them for many years unlike the thatch. Perhaps though, he might use a dark coloured tile instead, or even some slate, something to look perhaps a little smart but not stand out against the rest of the town, after all his new, or rather old cottage, was right in the heart of Evensong and he was conscious that he didn’t want a town of upset elves looking down upon him.

  He might also have to build on at some stage. Bearabus was small at the moment, barely thirty pounds, but at the rate she was eating as she devoured his berry bushes and his watermelons, and then went fishing every day as well, she wasn’t going to be small forever. She would need space, and her own sleeping quarters. In time maybe only a few months, she would also need a small dark room in which to hibernate. For the moment however, she was hibernating out in the sunshine on his couches, which were starting to look a little the worse for wear. She’d played all morning, mostly some strange game of tag, jumping and rolling about randomly, chasing bugs and butterflies, and exploring everything she could find
, all rolled into one chaotic game, and was finally exhausted. She was going to be a handful when she grew up.

  Still she was a pleasant handful. Though she still surprised him each morning when she woke him, hungry as always, it was good to have her around. She was good company, a distraction whenever his thoughts turned to darkness, and a source of amusement most of the rest of the time as she explored her new home. He’d known her only two days or so, but he was already enamoured of her, and he would miss her terribly if she left. But as far as he could be certain she wasn’t likely to. As much as he liked having her around she seemed to have formed an attachment to him, and she followed him everywhere.

  She wasn’t a familiar, not according to what he knew of them from his studies. She had no magical ability, and no great ability to follow commands, or any desire for that matter, and in any case he was a poor summoner at best, yet neither he figured, was she a normal bear cub. Though he hadn’t asked them the rangers probably thought she was a companion, but thus far he hadn’t spent a lot of time with any of them to find out more. Maybe Harvas would be able to advise him. But until then he was simply happy to have her around.

  It was with such foolish thoughts running through his head that he worked on getting the light broom into the tight corners of the loft between where the roof and the landing floor came together. There was just so much dirt and dust, the product of having been used as a house by so many for so long, and he knew he had days more hard work ahead of him. Work that he looked forwards to.

  “So, building another cottage? Already?” Marjan started, banged his head on the roof as he heard the voice coming from just below, and then grunted with pain for a moment or two, causing the woman to giggle. That was the problem with lofts, the ceilings were very low in places, especially when you were on your hands and knees trying to clean away the debris and dirt lodged in the corners from sixteen dryads and a family of humans who had called it home for too many long months.

  “ My Lady Essaline?” Of course it was she, and yet he had to be sure as he turned around on his hands and knees and peered over the edge of the landing, still holding his head.

  “Who else my mighty mage? Everyone else is too scared of you to disturb you in your magic lair.” She was smiling as she said it thankfully and he guessed that even if she was right, and he was sure that there was some truth in her words, it wasn’t as serious as she pretended.

  “They have no need. I would never harm any of them.” He had said as much to the council the previous day when he’d been ordered to attend and explain, after someone had finally managed to wake him, and though there had been some criticism, most of it oddly enough from Master Silas who was only a guest to the proceedings and who had stolen half his library, he thought it had been accepted.

  “Besides this is my old cottage, not a lair.”

  “I would imagine they’re safe enough. Even if I didn’t know you, in my limited experience very few power hungry or greedy wizards would ever be caught with a broom in their hands.” She laughed gaily while he turned somewhat red, as he suddenly remembered that he did have a broom in one hand and a wet dust cloth in the other. On his hands and knees, cleaning, not the way a man wanted to greet a beautiful woman, and she was always that.

  “Blacksmiths and dryads are very messy people.” They were as it turned out, but then so were children, and there had been an awful lot of people living under one roof for too many months, even if some of them had been making the surrounding trees their home for a bit. The mess was only to be expected. But at least they were all safe, accommodations had been found for them elsewhere in the village, and his cottage was once more his as far as he knew. He’d missed it more than he realised and so once he’d awoken, a full day later, he’d immediately started returning it to its proper condition.

  It was hard work cleaning the dirt and grime out of every crevice, and soft furnishings, and already he’d had his mattress and cushions washed and out in the sun drying, while mopping the floors and walls down several times with hot soapy water and he still wasn’t satisfied. In another day or two it would be fit for him to move in to again, assuming the elders allowed him to. He still wasn’t sure that they would, after all he had no idea why he’d been forced to take quarters with the Wild Sage Rangers in the first place, and he’d also caused them a lot of consternation of late, they surely weren’t happy with him.

  On the other hand his misdemeanours had been worthwhile for them, and his library was now half empty as the wizards, druids, mages and elders had been through his tomes and scrolls while he’d slept blissfully unaware, and taken anything and everything of interest. They’d also taken the stones he’d enchanted, fearing they might be used again, though whether by him or someone more hostile he wasn’t sure.

  Still, if it helped in the war ahead, he could gladly live with the loss of a few enchanted trinkets and his tomes of wizardry. Besides, his cottage was now almost directly below the Great Oak, surely there was no reason he couldn’t sleep here at night and wander up the nearby ramp to train with them each day. Regardless that was a matter to worry about another day, and while he saw Essaline standing there, laughing gently at him, and on such a wonderful sunny day, he had to admit there were more enjoyable things to think about than such matters. And maybe it was time to get a little of his own back.

  “I don’t suppose you’ve come to help with the cleaning my lady? I have a spare mop!” It was a cheeky suggestion, and yet still amusing, to him.

  “First your bath then your home, do you believe I am some sort of washer woman?” The smile didn’t leave her face, but something in her tone said that she wasn’t completely impressed at being asked to help clean another man’s home, and he was immediately mortified.

  “No, no! Never! Of course not my lady. It was merely a jest, and one in terribly poor taste for which I humbly apologise.”

  “You do seem to be doing a lot of that lately Mage Marjan. Your mouth seems to be getting you in repeated trouble. Is there a problem with it?” Marjan looked around horrified to see that Essaline’s mother was standing in his doorway, hands on hips and a wry smile on her face, and his embarrassment grew deeper, even though he could see that she wasn’t really upset. Nor was Essaline as she hid her smile behind her hands and tried not to laugh. Like daughter like mother, she was just enjoying having a little fun at his expense and there was nothing he could do about it, so he ignored it as he hurriedly made his way down the stairs to greet her.

  “Elder Felesily, it is good to see you again, and no it is not the mouth that has the problem, it is its foolish owner who has such a boorish sense of humour. Welcome to my humble home, and please might I offer you a cup of wildflower tea?” Since he’d been in Evensong he’d grown quite fond of the brew, and happily hot water was never far away in his home, especially when he was spending his days cleaning. He’d discovered that visitors, especially elders, not that he had many come and see him of late, expected such courtesy.

  “That would be most welcome, and perhaps while the tea brews you could show me a little of your home.” She caught him a little by surprise with her request, partly because his cottage was small enough that she could surely see nearly everything from where she stood, and partly because neither she nor any other elf had ever asked to be shown around his other house, when he’d had one. Then again Master Argus had also been there for most of that time and they would probably have been unhappy at the thought of approaching him. The sylph had clearly had similar feelings towards them.

  Still he showed her what he could of his cottage, somewhat humbled by its meagreness and yet also proud of it. Compared to his previous cottage and her own quarters as well his cottage was small and rude, and yet it was still a good solid home that had served him well for many years, and he knew every nook and cranny within it as if it was a part of him. Besides there were some advantages it had over the typical elven dwellings in his opinion, and the best of them was the clear thick glass in the windows, instead of the
carefully crafted sets of rotating wooden slats. One day if he chose to stay and if he was permitted to, he might set up a small business making the windows, always assuming he could find a good supply of pure sand nearby.

  Outside he spent some time showing her the small scrying pond and the remains of his flower gardens, those that had made the journey with the cottage, most of which were overgrown and in terrible disarray and awaiting his attention. Of course most of them had been converted into vegetable patches, a necessity with so many needing to eat but not so pretty as what had once been and he hoped might one day be again. He was especially pleased when she seemed to take an interest in the way he’d surrounded the balcony with flower beds, placing earthenware pots all around them and then training climbing flowers to grow their way up the balcony rails. It wasn’t an elven thing, they preferred to let nature make its own way, but they still appreciated a garden laid out for simple enjoyment. In truth if there was anything that detracted from the gardens, it was really the way the grass on which his cottage sat contrasted with the grass of the elven glade. It seemed that the grass of the Allyssian forest was darker and tougher than that of Evensong, and so it looked like a poorly made patch sewn onto a beautiful emerald green dress. Still that was a small matter and in time they would become one, he hoped, and then none would be any the wiser.

 

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