“He has some chores to attend to. He’ll be with us soon.”
The serving girl brought their meals and an additional mug of mead for the Sorceress. After she departed, Rotiaqua looked at Lorit with a scowl, “Now, where was I?
“Oh, yes, I was telling you about the grave danger you placed yourself in, along with this young lady,” she said, gesturing to a strangely silent Chihon.
“We were attacked in the park, without warning,” Lorit complained. “All I did was protect us.”
“It was how you chose to protect yourself that is at issue here. Did you not understand the warning of the Arda'um? Did they not caution you against the concentrating of power and sacrificing of Wizards?
“You must choose your path,” she said. “I have shown Chihon the fork in the road before you, and what my lie ahead.
“You face challenges and trials that have consequences far beyond your understanding,” the Sorceress continued. “Choose your path wisely.”
“What path?” Lorit asked.
“The path you take in dealing with the temple,” Chihon said softly. “How you deal with them will determine our future.” She wrung her hands, looking at him with sadness on her face. “I have seen the possible futures. I’m afraid of what we might be. For, as you choose, so go I.”
“Why does my decision affect you?” he asked, turning to her.
“Did you not feel the power coming from me?” she asked. “What do you think that means?” She folded her arms and stared at him.
“I thought you were helping me.”
“I had no choice. I could feel you drawing power from me. It took all the strength I had, just to pull back, when I realized what you were doing,” she said, breaking into tears. “I was terrified.”
“Can you help?” Lorit asked the Sorceress.
“Unfortunately, I cannot aide you, beyond the simple offering of my advice.”
“So advise me, if you would be so kind,” Lorit said. He’d finished his dinner and pushed the plate across the table for the serving girl to retrieve.
Chihon sat on the edge of her chair. She’d hardly touched her dinner, and she continued to pick at the food, chasing it around the plate, as a distraction while she listened.
“Please,” Chihon said to Rotiaqua. “What do we need to do to get through this safely?”
“You don't have to worry about the priests alone,” she said, waving her hand in the air. “The temple uses the young boys as messengers. Occasionally, one of them will grow strong before he takes on the temple robes and is shorn. You must be wary of these young charges.”
“How will we know who these boys are?” Lorit said.
“You cannot,” she said. “That is the danger. They could be anyone.”
“Is there anything else you can tell me that will help us though this trial?” Lorit asked.
“Only to caution you again about taking the power from another Wizard; that path leads to destruction. Destruction which reaches much farther than your personal demise,” she cautioned again.
“Destruction?” came a voice from behind Lorit once again. He turned to see Chedel standing there.
Lorit jumped up and grasped the younger boy's hand, pumping it up and down several times. He drew the boy to him and offered him a fatherly hug.
“How are you doing?” Lorit asked, “Is Rotiaqua taking good care of you?”
“She takes good care of me,” Chedel said. As he spoke, the Sorceress pulled out the end of the bench opposite Chihon. Chedel sat down and scanned the table. Chihon gently pushed her plate towards him as he sat.
“Thanks,” he said, and he dug into the meal with vigor.
“The boy has been grooming the horses and arranging things with the stables for our stay,” Rotiaqua said.
“I thought you were taking him to Amedon?” Lorit asked.
“I was on my way, but you proved quite a diversion,” she said. “We’ve traveled long and hard to meet you here.”
“How is he doing?” Lorit asked. “Is he learning his lessons?”
“He's doing just fine. I wish I had him in Amedon, but we make do as we have need.”
“He looks to have grown almost a head taller since I last saw him,” Lorit said. He looked over at the boy who had almost completed the remnants of Chihon's dinner.
“That, he has,” Rotiaqua said. “He eats like a horse.”
Temple of Ran
After dinner, Lorit and Chihon returned to their room. Lorit dropped his pack on the floor, near the door, and sat on the bed, looking at Chihon. She was still quiet and reserved, but did not appear as upset as she had been.
“I think you need to discuss this with Gareb,” she said. “He may have some advice that Rotiaqua and Zhimosom don’t. They’re pretty powerful. Gareb has spent his whole life fighting the temple with his limited power. He may see this differently.”
Lorit pondered her words carefully before answering. Gareb had been a good teacher, and despite his firm assurance that his power was not that great, he managed to accomplish a lot.
Lorit pointed his finger at the candle on the table, and it sprang to light. He pulled out the chair and motioned Chihon to sit. “Let's try to get in touch with him,” Lorit said.
“Both of us?” she asked.
“You said we were both in this together,” he said, settling himself for the effort.
Lorit reached back in his mind for the image of Gareb. He focused his will, seeking him out, until he could feel the vague representation of the cooperage where he and Chihon had spent the winter.
Gareb was there, standing behind his workbench, as Lorit remembered him. There was also another man there that Lorit did not know. Lorit could tell that Gareb felt his presence, but remained focused on the stranger. Lorit let the image fade and sat back.
“I think he’s with a customer,” Lorit said. He sighed deeply and leaned back on the bed. It was uneven and hard, but it felt good to relax after the day's excitement.
“What do you think Rotiaqua meant when she said that if you don’t take on the temple, your future is cloudy?” Chihon asked.
“I'm not sure, but she seemed resigned to my fighting them,” Lorit said, “no matter the outcome.”
Lorit sat back up and looked at Chihon. She played with a strand of her hair, twisting it around her finger, and then pulling her finger out to watch the curl bounce and relax.
“What did she show you?” Lorit asked.
“Chihon stopped her fidgeting and sat straight. “ She showed me two possible paths.
“On one, we became like the priests,” she said, shuddering visibly. “That was the path where you fell under their influence, and rose to great heights in the temple leadership.”
“And the other?” he asked. He didn’t like the sound of the first path.
“We grew old and gray,” she said with a slight smile.
It warmed Lorit to see her smile even a little.
Before Lorit could respond, he felt the unmistakable tug of contact with Gareb. He reached out and took Chihon's hand, “It's Gareb.”
The vision of the cooperage formed around them. Lorit could see the workbench where he’d spent the winter hours studying. The Cooper himself looked much the same as Lorit remembered him.
“Lorit, so good to see you,” he said. “And Chihon, you look well.”
“We seek your advice,” Lorit said.
“My advice?” Gareb walked around the workbench, cleaning up the debris from the day's work. “Why do you need my advice when you have the counsel of the mighty ones?”
“That is exactly why I need your advice,” Lorit said. “I don't think they’re telling me the whole truth. I think they’re telling me just enough, to get me to do what they want, and no more.”
Gareb laughed a hearty laugh. “Congratulations, you’ve just graduated,” he said. “The mighty ones have their own plans. We’re just pieces on the board to them. The end game they seek is a secret that you will likely never divi
ne.”
Yerlow appeared behind him in the workroom. “Who are you talking to, dear?” she asked.
“It's Lorit and Chihon,” he said, glancing her way.
Yerlow turned towards the table, looking in their general direction, and waved. “Tell them I said hello.” She turned and started for the stair. “Dinner will be ready soon,” she said as she disappeared.
“She can’t see us?” Chihon asked. “I so wanted to have a chat with her.” She peered into the dark corner where Yerlow had vanished.
“Of course she can’t see you,” Gareb said. “She’s no wizard.”
“You can’t show us to her?” Chihon asked.
Gareb shrugged his shoulders, “My powers are not so great.”
“You say that, but you seem more than able,” Lorit said.
“You don't need great power for most things. You should have learned that while you were here.”
Gareb pulled out his stool and sat at the workbench. He picked up a piece of wood that was starting to resemble a sitting dog, looking up at its master. He turned it over as he examined it. “It’s all a matter of leverage, and finesse,” he explained.
“We had a battle with a priest,” Lorit said.
“Tell me about it,” Gareb said. He picked up his knife and started to shave tiny slivers of wood from the piece he held in his hand. He looked back up at Lorit, “And don't leave anything out.”
Lorit explained about the priest, and how he’d opened the shields of his opponent, and was able to touch the violet magic, to direct it towards its owner.
“That's not such a good idea,” Gareb said as Lorit finished his story. He set the carving down, amid the shavings on the table. “Taking the power of another wizard is a bad idea. It leads to all types of other bad ideas. It’s generally to be avoided at all cost. Even your own death is better than that path.”
“That’s what the Arda'um told me,” Lorit said.
“So you met them, did you?” Gareb asked. He looked from Lorit to Chihon and back.
“They sort of met us,” Chihon said. “We weren’t expecting them.”
Chihon related the story of the Arda'um to Gareb and the tale of Mu'umba and his treatment both in Eldon and Mistwind. Gareb asked a few questions along the way, but mostly just picked at this carving and nodded his head in acknowledgment.
“And you say you’re not mighty ones,” he commented when Chihon finished her tale. “It sounds like they have great plans for you. You have my sympathies.”
“So, what do you recommend?” Lorit asked.
“Well, are you sure you want my opinion on all this?” Gareb asked. “I'm just a lowly cooper in a small town. I'm not one of the mighty ones.”
“That is why we came to ask your advice,” Lorit said. He attempted to make the scene more solid, so he could lean against the worktable. While he could feel a resistance where the table was in his vision, he wasn’t able to make it solid, as he had seen the Sorceress do.
“You were on the right path there, with opening his shields,” Gareb explained. “You just need to learn to separate his power from him, without taking it into yourself. It's absorbing his power that causes the problem. You absorb his power, you also get all of the evil he’s committed to obtain that power, and they’re experts in evil.
“Your shields are impressive,” Gareb continued. He picked up the carving and looked it over. “They would not have been able to capture you, even as inexperienced as you were, had you not been fast asleep without your shields. Their shields are not as complex as yours. You withstood the direct impact of his fireballs, and while that was all going on, you managed to pierce the shields of a senior priest.”
“What do you recommend?” Lorit asked.
“Use your strengths,” Gareb told him. “You have powerful shields; try to find a way to use them to separate the power from the priest, without taking any of it into yourself. Look for where the priest is drawing from to get his power. That may help you find a weakness.
“Don't forget that you can draw power from a lot of things besides yourself and Chihon,” he reminded Lorit. “Remember the torches?”
Gareb held up his hand pointing a finger at Lorit for emphasis, “Just don't draw power from other people.”
“How will we know their weaknesses?” Chihon asked Gareb.
“Do you think you could get into the temple and have a look around beforehand?” Gareb asked. “Didn't you get past the temple guards a few times already, without being seen?”
“I did, but I’m not sure that would work again,” Lorit said. “I don't know how that priest knew who we were. How did they even know that we were in town?”
“Your shields are leaking,” Gareb said. “You may want to work on tightening them up. Either that, or someone is using one of the openings you leave for your friends,” he added with a frown.
“How could they do that?” Lorit asked.
“Maybe someone you think is your friend is not.” Gareb put his carving down and turned to look off towards the stairs, as if listening for something.
“Looks like my dinner’s ready,” he said. “Yerlow says hello, Chihon. She says to tell you she misses your company.”
“Thank you for your advice,” Lorit said.
“You’re always welcome,” Gareb said. “It gives me pleasure to serve the mighty ones, in whatever capacity that may be,” he added with a smile.
The cooperage faded out of view. The candle on the table was burned almost to a stub.
The following day Lorit got up early. He was quietly sneaking out the door when Chihon woke. “Where are you going so early?” she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes in the dim light of the early morning.
“I’m off to the temple,” Lorit said.
Chihon sat upright with a start, “You're not going there to take them on yet?”
“No, I’m going to have a look around, as Gareb recommended,” he said. He pointed to his pack and staff sitting in the corner, next to his still unmade bedroll. “Just to look around.”
“Be careful,” she said, lying back down. “If I’m not up, please wake me for breakfast when you get back.”
“I will.” Lorit quietly shut the door and headed down the deserted street towards the temple. As he walked, he pulled his shields tight to him and closed the access that he instinctively held open for his friends.
By the time he reached the temple, there was a steady stream of foot traffic headed the same way. Lorit found a likely family to tag along behind. As he fell in line, he projected the image of an older man dressed in a silky robe who walked with a slight limp. That should keep anyone from recalling that a young man had entered the temple.
He filed along slowly behind the family and was soon inside the Temple. During the service, he took the opportunity to slip quietly out of the main area and go exploring.
He found a dark corner where no one would see him and changed his appearance to that of a layman. That image should allow him access to areas where supplicants are normally barred.
He headed down a passageway much like those in the temples he’d visited before. He arrived at a door made of weathered wood bound in brass, with tarnished fittings. As his hand touched the surface, he could feel a light sense of power from within. It was the same power he’d sensed as he fought the priest in the park.
He reached out with his magic and probed the lock. It came open easily, and he stepped inside. In the corner was a stand bearing a statue of a skeleton dressed in priestly robes. Scattered around the room where several dried white human skulls. Stands of dark, polished wood supported brass bowls filled with burning oil that illuminated the room.
On the floor was a pile of tattered blankets and discarded coats. Lorit noticed the pile moving ever so slightly. He walked over and leaned down to examine the pile only to find a young boy, hiding underneath the mass of cloth. He was dirty and had a vacant, frightened look in his eye.
“Please don't hurt me!” he begged.
“I’ve read my lessons and practiced as you asked,” he cried, holding his hands before his face.
“My name is Lorit,” he said. “I’m not here to hurt you.”
The boy slowly uncovered his face and looked up at Lorit. “Why are you here?”
“I came to see if there was anyone in need of help. It looks like I found someone,” Lorit said. He lifted the blanket from the boy's arms to reveal red welts that circled his wrist.
“They haven’t treated you well, have they?”
“They beat me when I fail to learn,” he said. “It’s hard, learning magic.”
“What’s your name?” Lorit asked.
“Kaler.”
Lorit looked at the boy who reminded him of Chedel and Ardser. He was young, frightened, and just starting to come into his powers. The temple must have chosen him for the priesthood, or else they were encouraging him to grow in his power, to provide an even stronger sacrifice.
“Let's get you out of here,” Lorit said.
He reached once more for the boy, who pulled back again.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Lorit said in exasperation.
The boy stood and faced Lorit. “They guard this place. We’ll never get out.”
“I have some magic myself,” Lorit said. “Follow me.” He motioned for the boy to follow him as he headed for the door. When he turned his back on the boy, he could feel the stirrings of magic pressing against him. He instinctively hardened his shields to fend off the attack and turned back to the boy.
Kaler stood amid the pile of blankets and clothes with his arm extended towards Lorit. Lorit could feel the power flowing from the boy; it felt similar to the binding spells the priests used on him before.
It was weak and ineffective.
“What are you trying to do?” he asked Kaler.
“Stay where you are,” Kaler shouted. “You’re a traitor.”
The boy raised his other arm to strengthen the spell. Lorit could feel the renewed sense of purpose in the magical attack.
Foundling Wizard (Book 1) Page 32