A Wizard In The Way

by Christopher Stasheff

  "Well, they're really one light year apart," Alea explained.

  "That's so far that if you set out to walk to it, then turned the journey over to your child when you died, and your child left it to your grandchild, by the time one of your descendants came there, thousands of years would have passed, and your memory would be only a name, if it survived at all."

  Mira stared, awed by the immensity suddenly breaking upon her senses. "But-but if those two are so close together, how far apart is the Ranger's left shoulder from his right?" She pointed to a parallelogram of stars.

  "Hundreds of light-years," Alea said. "If someone were to light a huge fire on his left shoulder, your great-great-great-great-great grandchildren would be the first to see it."

  Blaize shivered at. the thought, but his face was rapt as he gazed at the stars.

  Mira shivered, too, feeling suddenly alone and tiny, lost among the constellations. The old, familiar, friendly stars suddenly seemed cold and alien, and incredibly distant.

  "Each of those stars is a sun," Alea explained, "like the bright ball that lights the day here and gives you its warmth and light"

  "A sun?" Mira stared. "But there is only one sun, above the world! They can't be suns-they are too small!"

  "They only seem small because they are so far away," Alea answered, "and they don't hang above the world, for worlds are balls of rock and earth and swing around their suns in endless circles."

  Mira's eyes mirrored the horde of stars above her. "You mean each of those stars has a world?"

  "No, only a few," Alea explained, "but that 'few,' when there are so many stars, means thousands."

  Mira's mind reeled at the idea of thousands of worlds like her own, filled with warmth and flowers and animals and people, falling in love and marrying and living out their lives struggling to rear their children without starving.

  "Do you see that river of stars that slants across the heavens?" Alea asked.

  "The Waterfall of the Gods? Of course."

  "That is really the far side of the galaxy," Alea explained. Mira paled. "You mean Gar is trying to reach one of those stars with his mind?"

  "No, the star he seeks is much closer, only two hundred thirty-four light-years away." Alea pointed at a patch of darkness between the Wagon and the Hoe. "It's somewhere in that part of the sky, but its sun is too small to see."

  "Why does he want to reach so small a world with his mind?" Mira whispered.

  "To talk to his little brother there," Alea explained. "He can reach across that gulf with his mind and read Gregory's thoughts."

  Now Mira began to tremble. "Can his brother's mind reach here to us?"

  "We think so," Alea said. "That's what Gar is trying to find out right now. He tells me I'll be able to do it someday, too, if I keep practicing." She leaned closer, her tone dropping in confidence. "I don't believe him, though. I think it takes two to forge that kind of link-and I don't have a brother or sister."

  "Except Gar," Mira murmured, eyes on the stars, not really thinking-so she didn't notice how long Alea hesitated before she said, "Yes. Except for Gar."

  "He can teach me magic." Blaize breathed, gazing at Gar with worshipful eyes. Then he transferred the same look to Alea. "So can you, if you will."

  "Learn the Tao first," Alea said. "Then we'll talk about magic."

  Mira felt a sudden determination to do exactly that.

  They learned well enough in the little time that Alea and Gar were free to talk with them; for the next several days they seemed to be always reading and asked Mira and Blaize to do the chores of the camp for them. Mira complied, though warily, as though expecting them to turn into dragons the moment she tamed her back. Blaize did his tasks cheerfully-after all, he had been fetching and carrying for Arnogle for years. Besides, if Gar had turned into a dragon, Blaize would only have stared and marveled.

  In the afternoons, the two adventurers took turns; one would meditate while the other tried to teach the younger people about the Tao and how people behaved if they tried to follow that Way.

  Gar explained that the ancient sages had really believed that if everybody lived in villages and each village had a sage living nearby, then the people would follow the example of the sages, treating each other with kindness and trying to settle their differences without anger or violence. Blaize found that he couldn't accept the idea. "What if another village didn't believe in the Way or wish to follow their sage? Wouldn't they try to conquer the neighboring villages and take everything they had, even the women and children?"

  "Not if everyone believed in the Tao and tried to live like a sage," Gar answered.

  "But that could never happen!" Blaize protested. "All it would take would be one person who didn't believe-especially if that person were a powerful magician. Then he would try to build up an army and use his powers to enslave everybody else."

  Gar looked sharply at him. "Is that how your world came to be divided up between magic-lords?"

  "I don't really know," Blaize confessed, "but if they did, what could have stopped them?"

  "A government," Gar said. "I think the government collapsed when the world from which your ancestors came stopped sending them food, medicine, and weapons."

  "Do you really think sages could have stopped that?" Blaize asked.

  "No," Gar said, "though it would have been awfully nice if they could have. But they could become a counterforce to the power of the magicians. The example of the sages might make the lords treat their serfs more gently."

  "Perhaps," Blaize said doubtfully, "but most of the magicians I've heard of don't care that much for what anybody. else thinks of them. Your sages would have to find a way of forming the people into little armies, to be able to fight off the wizards' guards--and how could they fight the lords' magic? Unless your sages were magicians themselves-but you tell me they don't believe in fighting."

  "They don't," Gar confirmed, "but they also don't mind if a bully hurts himself when he's trying to hurt you."

  Blaize gazed at him, knowing he was hearing a riddle. His mind circled the problem, nibbling at it. Then he straightened in surprise. "They found a way to make soldiers hurt themselves!"

  Gar nodded. "Ways to make the soldiers' own blows work against them."

  "What magic is that?"

  "No magic, only a system of fighting," Gar assured him. "We'll teach it to you, but the basis of it is this: you become the rock over which your enemy trips."

  It was an exciting idea, but Baize had to wait to learn the philosophy first, and since Gar and Alea seemed to be learning it themselves, it would be a long wait. He filled the time as best he could with camp chores: hunting up a cave for their dwelling, sweeping it out, lashing branches together to make screens that divided the women's sleeping area from the men's and both from the living area. Mira helped, of course, but would only answer his questions with terse comments. That saddened Blaize, for chores could fill just so much of the day, and conversation would have lightened the rest but Mira wouldn't talk with him any more than she absolutely had to. In fact, she seemed not just to despise him, but even to be afraid of him. That wounded Blaize. After all, he had done nothing to hurt her.

  Finally he couldn't stand it any longer. One day, when he was carrying a basket of tubers he had dug back to camp, he met her as she was hauling a bucket of water from the stream. He fell in beside her and demanded, "Why do you despise me, Mira? I haven't hurt you in any way. I've given you no reason to be afraid of me."

  "But you're a magician, even if you're not a very good one yet," Mira said, "and my magician lord summoned me to his bed. I'd seen what he'd done to other girls, so I ran away. He sent guards to chase me with dogs, then ghosts to scare me back toward the guards, and they would have caught me and hauled me back to his cruelty if Gar and Alea hadn't come along."

  "A horrible man indeed." Blaize's face reddened. "He is a man corrupted by his own power-but then, that's all he really wants from life, isn't? Power. For him, the pleasure
of a beautiful woman is summoning her and knowing she doesn't dare refuse. His cruelty gives him pleasure only because it proves his power." Mira looked at him in surprise. He seemed genuinely angry about Roketh.

  "Most of them are like that, I'm afraid." Blaize looked as though he'd bitten into a rotten apple. "Corrupt, tyrannical, and cruel. I'd like to see every one of them hauled off his seat of power and chained in the bowels of the earth with enchanted manacles that would resist every spell. But there are a few good lords: Obiel of Lomark, Bockel of Hightree, and Erkin of Horgan, among others. They live modestly-or as modestly as you can in a mansion-and make sure their serfs have enough to eat and stout clothes to wear. But they have to be strong, very strong, for the others assume that a good man is a weak man and attack with all their powers, trying to swallow them up."

  "There is no end to their greed!"

  "No, there isn't-but there's another reason." Blaize turned to look out over the valley. "Word of a good magician gets out, you see, and makes other serfs begin to wonder if they can rid themselves of their cruel lords. Worse, the good lord's farmers grow more grain and fruit than those of the cruel lords-no wonder, since they're not weak from starvation."

  "So the tyrants are jealous as well as greedy!"

  "So jealous that you wonder their very hair doesn't turn green," Blaize agreed. "My own teacher Arnogle was a very good man. He was out among his serfs every day, making sure they were well fed and content with their lot, and if one wasn't, he sat down with that man or woman and asked why. If they thought they'd been treated unjustly, he brought in their hetmen and thrashed the problem out, even if it meant trying to cure a bad marriage. If someone was sick, he did all he couldnot enough, alas, for he wasn't a healer. If one of them died, he'd be glum about it for days. And he never took a serf woman to his bed, even if it were her idea-said he'd had enough of that when he was young and had seen the unhappiness it could bring."

  Mira turned wary again. "How many women had he despoiled in his youth?"

  "None," Blaize said with certainty. "He told me he had never forced a woman, nor even pressed her to give him her favors, but there were four over the years who did press him, and you can't be surprised if he accepted."

  "But he never married one of them?"

  "No. He was homely, you see. Two had expected advantages from him-not be to have to work in any way, and to be able to lord it over the other women. One other expected fine clothes and jewelry, but he didn't take such things for himselfhe thought the money was better used for repairing the serfs' cottages-"

  "They had cottages? Not hovels?" Mina asked in surprise. "Oh, yes, good thatched cottages-he set the men to building whenever there was no work to do in the fields. He thought the woman who asked for such luxuries was robbing her fellows, and became saddened. The fourth, as it happened, was more interested in stirring up jealousy in a lover who had turned from her to another woman. She succeeded well enough, and when the handsome young man came storming back to her, she left Arnogle on the instant."

  Mira blinked. "But he was their lord! Didn't he punish them?"

  "What for? A few nights of delight? For being in love? No, Arnogle wasn't that sort of man. He was saddened, though, and never dallied with a woman again. This was all before I joined him, of course," Blaize added. "He didn't tell me himself-I heard it piecemeal from the guards and the serfs."

  "I didn't know there were such lords," Mira said, wide=eyed. "There are a few, and I want to be like him in every wayexcept, of course, strong enough to fight off the neighbors who try to conquer my estates," Blaize amended. "And I'd like to succeed in love, but I've seen what happens to ugly men."

  Mira almost blurted out that he was anything but ugly, but caught herself in time. Instead she summoned some indignation. "You mean to accept women's invitations, then? Don't worry, I won't give one. You can turn elsewhere with your lust"

  "But with you, it isn't lust," Blaize said, wide-eyed and openfaced. "It's love."

  Something seemed to melt within Mira-but something else shrieked with alarm. Shaken, she said, "Magicians can't love. Everyone knows that. Look elsewhere still, sir." She turned away, walking quickly back toward Gar and Alea, hurrying so fast that the water slopped over the brim of the bucket.

  Blaize gazed mournfully after her. He should have known not to tell a woman he loved her before she'd come to know him well. Whatever ground he'd gained with her, he'd just lost.

  She didn't seem to despise him quite so much anymore, though. That was something. At least she seemed uncertain. She might not think Blaize was a paragon of virtue, but at least she was no longer sure he was a villain. He'd have to settle for that.

  The cave Blaize had found for their campsite was a gap in a cliff face that backed a broad ledge overlooking a valley. The ledge was fifty feet deep, so they had to go fairly close to the edge to look down on the villages below. There were half a dozen, most clearly seen in morning and evening, when their cookfires rose from the patchwork fields below.

  Gar insisted they use green wood for their own campfire. He wanted plenty of smoke so the villagers below would notice. Mira and Blaize dutifully scooted around the fire whenever the wind changed, trying to cook food that wouldn't smell like pine or spruce.

  When they weren't chopping wood or hauling water, though, they took lessons from Alea or Gar, whichever one wasn't meditating at that moment. The two of them taught the younger people the Tao Te Ching, of course, reading it to thembut they also insisted Mira and Blaize learn to read it for themselves. Reading led to writing, and before they knew it, Mira and Blaize were actually putting the sounds of the letters together to make words, and words to make sentences-slowly at first, haltingly, but writing.

  Blaize looked up at Alea in awe. "Why didn't Arnogle teach me this?"

  "Perhaps he didn't know it himself," she answered. "Was the magic he taught you written in books?"

  "No, he told me about it and coached me in trying it." Blaize frowned. "But it should have been written down-at least the part of it that you don't have to feel for yourself."

  "Maybe you can explain what it feels like," Alea suggested. "Maybe I can." Blaize picked up his pen and began to write. Mira looked on, wondering if she was watching the writing of the first book of magic and wondering also how she felt about that.

  The two wanderers also taught Blaize and Mira to meditate. "You can't just read about the Tao," Gar explained. "You have to experience it." He sat cross-legged before them, teaching them to slow their breathing, to let their emotions smooth out and their thoughts calm and fade so that they could really begin to sense the world around them and feel for the Tao, the harmony of wind and tree, earth and fire.

  Still, there were chores to be done. "You'll have to do the scutwork," Gar told the younger duo. "The peasants are growing so curious that they'll begin to sneak up and spy on us, and they won't believe Alea and I are sages if they see us scouring pots."

  "The lot of apprentices everywhere," Blaize told Mira with a sigh. "Well, I'm used to it."

  "I'm used to it, too," Mira answered, "and I wasn't even an apprentice!" She wondered how Gar knew the villagers were growing curious, then remembered that he could hear thoughts. She was glad she hadn't asked.

  She did ask Alea if there were any reasons for herself and Blaize to be doing chores, other than putting on a show. Alea told her, and when the work became too boring, Mira told it to Blaize as a way of starting a safe conversation.

  "Alea says we have to do the gathering and cooking and cleaning so that we can learn humility, patience, and obedience to the order of things."

  "I've already learned plenty of humility, thank you." Blaize grunted as he swung one end of a log into place to make a seat by the fire, "and if an apprentice in magic doesn't understand the importance of obedience both to his master and to the laws of magic, I'd like to know who does." He picked up the other end of the log.

  Mina set her hands on her hips. "There you go, trying to lord it over me be
cause you've had some learning."

  "Lord it over you?" Blaize looked up in astonishment and dropped the log. "Ow! Oh-oh-oh-oh! My toe!"

  "Is it badly hurt? Here, let me see!" Mira pushed him backward to sit on the log and reached for his foot.

  "No, no! just a bruise, I'm sure, nothing more!" But Blaize cradled the injured member in his other hand. "Believe me, I'm not telling you anything about how much you have to learnonly that even in the earliest days of my apprenticeship, I may have spent the day sweeping up and hauling water, but Arnogle always found a few minutes every day to teach me a little about magic."

  "Well, so do Gar and Alea," Mira countered. "In fact, they're teaching us almost as quickly as they leam it themselves. Here, are you sure that toe isn't mashed?"

  "Believe me, if it were, I'd know it," Blaize protested. "You're just trying to act bravely!"

  "Well, of course," Blaize said in surprise. "If it were really hurt, though, I'd be brave about the pain while I tied it in a splint." He set his foot down and leaned on it experimentally.

  "Ow! Not just yet-which is what Gar says about teaching me magic."

  "Well, we've only just begun to learn to meditate," Mira said practically. "Alea told us we needed to learn the Tao before we learned magic."

  "Why?" Blaize grumbled. "I'm not learning any magic by meditating. Besides, they're just learning about the Tao now, and they've both known magic for years. I think Gar even grew up with it."

  Mira frowned. "What makes you say that?"

  "His trying to read his little brother's mind across an ocean of stars. That sounds like magic to me, and if two brothers know it, their parents would have, too, wouldn't they? So they learned it the way we learned reaping and mowing-helping as little children, tying sheaves as big boys and girls, then mowing when we were full grown."

  Mira started a retort, then hesitated. "There might be something to that. . . ."

  "Doesn't matter if there is," Blaize said with a sigh. He pushed himself upright, carefully putting a little weight, then a little more, on his injured toe. "It hurts, but it works."