Waking Olympus (The Singers of the Dark Book 1)

by Peter Yard

  He had never set foot inside the Main Hall, the tough guards on the outside were the reason for that, though now they didn't seem as big or tough as they once did; especially when you knew them by their first names. Still, it was such a strange building, even after all the times he had seen it from the outside, and it was old, you could see that it was crumbling in places yet it remained sturdy.

  Samuel and Mikel stood before the building while Mikel built up his nerve.

  "Mikel, I cannot come in with you. You must go alone. Chin up. I will talk to you after." Samuel left, walking slowly down the road, every step making Mikel feel more alone.

  He approached the nearest of the two uniformed guards who were seated under a shaded canopy, a slight breeze blowing the faded blue tassels, rippling sine waves traveling along the canopy edge enticing him into a comforting world of mathematics.

  “Apprentice Mikel Peres to see the Council”. He almost stuttered, he had never met anyone from the Council.

  The guard was an old friend, Nils, a kindly aging fellow who always radiated good cheer, though he tried to act stern, it was probably the reason he was selected for the job. He wore a very uninspiring blue uniform and hat with ragged gold trim, he looked Mikel up and down from his chair as if he had never seen him before.

  “All right, Mikel. Wil can escort you inside. None of your usual shenanigans either, this is one place where curiosity really will kill the cat. Understand?”

  Wil was always cheerful enough, but Mikel could never get away with anything with him. He had eyes like a hawk and seemed to sense the mischief in the students before they knew it themselves.

  The guards had known him since he was a youngster, flitting through the wide, dusty, sun-drenched mostly empty streets when he had finished his day in the college. Always on the way to some adventure; usually ending up getting back to the dorms late.

  Inside the building it was dark as night despite it being lit by the most sophisticated lamp technology and perhaps more. He thought he had made out some devices using the new gas lighting; he so wanted to investigate but he had to behave himself here. Wil handed him over to a new guard who he did not know.

  “Follow me.” The guard said in an unfamiliar deep voice.

  His eyes weren’t given time to adapt, he had to follow immediately.

  “Why didn’t they angle more external light inwards?” he said to no-one in particular. He knew his guide would not answer. He was just analyzing to distract himself.

  He thought if they had shafts that could let in light they wouldn’t have to light it artificially, or at least as much. Master Torrens had built perfect mirrors years ago so the technology wasn’t new, only expensive. They would only work at certain times of the day so that wouldn’t solve the problem. Then he remembered when he and Alice found an outcrop of mica and played with it. He thought if he could insert small flakes of it into a paint then he could paint a tunnel to conduct light which would bounce off the reflecting mica flakes. That got him thinking. A light pipe? That would have interesting properties and uses. What would it look like with mirrors? What would be its limitations? How small could it be? Could it be a solid rod of glass using total internal reflection? He took every opportunity to glimpse down side corridors hoping to catch a glimpse of one of the rumored miracles, he didn't see any of the experimental electric lighting that some whispered about, so perhaps it was still in R & D at the Larc.

  Walking down the dim halls he still felt an irrational desire to explore. Who knew what lay in some of the dark corners of this place. But he was being led now by one of the guards from just inside the door. The guide wasn’t day-blinded and therefore had a great deal of control over Mikel and where he went. By the time his eyes had adjusted he had entered into a somewhat semi-circular room with tiers of seating. Like the contoured maps Master Marnath had devised, he vividly remembered her presentation of them. Here the contours formed a half of a descending cone narrowing to where a speaker dais stood. Once there had been attachments for seating through the room, but now it was just rock and cushions. The place had been designed for acoustical reasons, he looked about to see how echoing in the chamber was being controlled. Above natural lighting came in through a bank of windows which seemed to use the latest in glass technology.

  “Young Wizard! Come and sit.”

  “I’m not …” He started to say.

  Mikel turned in the direction of the voice and saw a gray haired man standing by the dais. His voice had sounded far more powerful than he looked. The room was almost empty except for about a dozen men and women seated in the front row. Then he saw the purple cloaks clearly. Elder Wizards.

  They patiently waited while he walked the short distance to a chair placed before them. Sitting down he was now face to face with the Elder Wizards. Close up their robes didn't seem quite so fancy, and they didn't seem quite so lordly, but they did have control over his future so they deserved respect.

  Master Sorgi was the one who had spoken and Mikel knew that Sorgi did not like sitting, he thought better when walking. It was common knowledge that in public ceremonies Master Sorgi would not stay seated. But he was the Master Wizard, not just a Master but the Master, so no one was about to tell him to sit down. Meeting the Master Wizard was like meeting Zeus.

  Why was he of all people talking to Mikel?

  “Apprentice Mikel Peres. I know this is not normal procedure. I beg your indulgence. Although you are not scheduled to begin your work as an apprentice until a full-month has elapsed an urgent matter has come up. Unfortunately, we need your services immediately. However, to make up for that, upon successful completion of this task you will be advanced to Wizard ranking. We will also arrange for an extended period of supported research after your mission as compensation.”

  “I serve the Truth and the Way,” he responded, mostly by instinct.

  “Yes, yes. We know that.” The Master said. “No need for those first year platitudes now.” He said, annoyed.

  “Right now we need your perceptive and insightful view of things. We need you to be a seemingly casual observer, you have a knack for seeing things others don’t. We need that. Ah, I’m getting ahead of myself. You know the Traders of the Plains? The plains that stretch east from Bethor into unknown territory in the east of Arva?"

  “Yes, I know of them, but not really much about either the Traders or the Plains.”

  “Exactly our situation. We have only ancient records of them. The Traders could be valuable — trading partners, we often have occasional contact with them but we don't have any substantial information. We need some preliminary information before we send a trade mission. I have a contact name amongst the Traders, it is a simple task though we need someone guileless who won't be thought of as a threat. We want background information about their culture and trade routes, be careful, we don't want to upset them. There has been a fair amount of foolish mistrust by both sides in the past that we are only now overcoming. Do as they ask and it should be trivial.”

  “Now, about your primary goal, which must remain secret. We have lost two of our agents in Bethor during the last month. We have no idea what has happened to them or why. We don’t want you to be an agent, you are simply to listen to rumors and ask about anything interesting you come across. Naturally, if you find anything of personal interest record it and bring it back as well for our archives. We are hoping that as an apprentice no one will consider you worth troubling. Finding information about the Plains is your cover story but still important. Finding out about what is happening in Bethor is critical. Just be eyes and ears and report back.”

  Mikel thought about it for a moment. “My inexperience probably counts against me since I am not familiar with the customs of the Traders, or even Bethor.”

  “True. But we don't want a seasoned traveller, we want someone who can see the situation in Bethor without bias. We also want you to evaluate what you hear around Bethor and to try and verify it, as a mere Apprentice people will understand yo
ur curiosity and incessant questions. Someone older and more seasoned will look like a spy.”

  That spoilt any sense of adventure he might have had. He hadn’t considered that possibility.

  “What kind of information do you want me to gather?” He was getting worried that this entire venture seemed ad hoc. No planning. So unlike the Wizards. Was he being chosen because he was so expendable?

  "As I said, just eyes and ears. Report what you see and hear. The cover mission, your meeting with the Traders about trade routes, is less important but is also required, we need that information. We have a contact who can quickly supply you with that information. Do you agree to this? Once committed you cannot back out."

  “Sure,” Mikel said. Though his voice was very uncertain.

  “Good, you will leave in a week. Before that you will be fully briefed. You will be given money, some standard supplies and a choice of additional items. Remember you can’t take everything you want, you will be on foot. Pack light. That is all for now. Master Samuel will take on your preparation. Please make regular reports via our Trade Mission in Bethor if you can. Goodbye.”

  A deep raspy voice spoke in his ear. “Follow me, son.” The guard.

  The preparations for his mission took up Mikel’s entire time for the next week.

  He selected a set of instruments. A mini-sextant, oiled leather wraps to protect things from rain. Compass, abacus, string, rope, a measured piece of string with a small weight (used for precise timing and length), a sling, a small sword. He had practiced with the sword but knew that although he still had some skill with it he had forgotten too much. Various cloths, chemicals, a few herbs, and medicinals, which with his understanding of their use would serve him well as a healer. A well made pair of boots and a protective set of clothing. A small code book; a one-time pad. A small telescope which he had made a couple of years before. A bedroll, basic cooking items, his fire-starting kit, a piece of waterproof canvas that could shelter him and fold to become his backpack, tent or bundle on his staff if easier. Some dried food. Finally, a small journal with ink and pen for recording his journey. Mai had offered him one of her bows but he was a lousy shot with them, he preferred his sling, which he was — against all expectations — quite good at. Also, carrying a bow on his back, even unstrung, was not being inconspicuous.

  The pack and outfit felt comfortable but after a day’s walk he might think otherwise. He knew he was likely forgetting some important things and taking unnecessary items.

  He had gone over the list of items several times. There were so many things he could add, but he could only carry so much and most of what he wanted was not necessary. Master Samuel cast his eye over the pack, gave him a stern look and removed some things and suggested others.

  Mikel's greatest concern was that he was so out of practice with a weapon that he would be fair game. He had thought this several times. To that end he had arranged some practice with some of the weapons masters and on their advice he had added a small shield to his collection.

  Master Samuel sent him off to the armorer. He was fitted out with a set of light leather armor, with hidden thin stiff inserts of some material, they looked like cuttlebones. To prevent being easily stabbed in the back he was told, he didn't ask about the easily qualification, he knew that protection could limit damage but not necessarily prevent it, the hope being that it would limit any damage to the merely uncomfortable. It looked great when the armorer's young assistant put it on though he knew he wouldn't look as good as her; she was familiar with it and confident. When he tried it on the reddish brown leather squeaked and it felt awkward and unnatural. The squeaks when he moved made him sound like a mouse. They oiled it, which helped, but the impression lingered.

  "Wear some loose clothing over it." Suggested the balding armorer, speaking earnestly, his words seemed to be strengthened from a permanent ruddy glow in his face looking as if he had just come from the forge and would pound him with a hammer if his time was wasted.

  "Remember, deception is a strength," the assistant added.

  Hardly necessary, Wizards learned many magic tricks both to dazzle the ignorant and to train in manipulating human perception, after all they weren't warriors.

  By week’s end he thought he was ready — it wasn't true of course.

  Looking back on his preparations made Mikel feel cold and alone. He came back to the present with a start and saw that night was starting to fall. The sea was much calmer and the wind had eased. A member of the crew was making his way around the deck lighting some strategically placed lamps. The stars were starting to come out. He examined the familiar constellations and the bearing of the ship and realized that the wind must have returned to its normal westerly direction. It was a smooth run downwind, with a good sea. He brushed his chin with his left hand unconsciously and discovered a layer of salt and the beginnings of a beard. Being on the sea was like surfing but without the feeling of being preternaturally clean or being in control. No golden, seaborne glow here. He couldn’t wait until they got to port and he could wash.

  The Captain approached him again. He had been taking some measurements with a sextant. Not an easy thing while the deck still pitched from the trailing end of the rough sea.

  “We are pretty much on course, about a day out of Bethor by my estimate. I will know more accurately when it is plotted.” He said.

  “Can you determine our longitude easily using Thaytan?” Mikel asked.

  Thaytan, the Constant Star, was only a magnitude three star but maintained the same position in the sky always; it was hard to single it out for the untrained eye so it was essential to have a good knowledge of the night sky to see the star that didn't belong among the constellations. Stellar magnitudes follow a logarithmic scale, which meant that magnitude three stars were about 2.5 times dimmer in real terms than magnitude two, with the brightest being magnitude one. That meant that the Constant Star was two magnitudes, which meant 2.5 times 2.5, or 6.25 times dimmer than the bright magnitude one stars, roughly, and just as well human eyes were logarithmic so they could see but not be overwhelmed. Though it was probably the case that human logarithmic eyes were responsible for the logarithmic magnitude scale.

  Astronomers determined the length of the year using the star, easier than using the sun, or the planets. Using a modified sextant to measure the position of Thaytan and one or more other stars it was straightforward to determine the latitude and longitude of any place on the Western Sea. It was said, many Captains could just look at the sky and tell you precisely how long it would take to make landfall and the true heading.

  “Easy to determine the longitude and latitude, but there are winds and currents. But still not hard.”

  “What if Thaytan didn’t exist? Or, for example, if Lind was on the other side of Neti?” Mikel was genuinely curious. He wondered if other cultures were stymied by their inability to determine longitude.

  “Well lad, it is speculative of course. I would say it would be almost impossible to measure longitude without Thaytan. How would you tell? You could use the phases and movements of the moon, but it would be fiendishly complicated. The moon isn’t always visible even on clear nights. We should be thankful that Thaytan is in a geostationary orbit.” Mikel nodded and had to agree, he pitied anyone on the far side of Neti.

  The Captain touched his beret, to be polite, and then bid Mikel a good night as he retreated to his cabin to record the values from the 'chip log'.

  four

  Bethor

  The morning was bright and clear. The wind behind them was warmer today, perhaps a sign that winter was truly gone. With luck there would be no more cold snaps. It was one week into the month of Regin, mid-Spring, the month of Greening was already gone. It should be warmer by now. Many in Lind said the weather had been changing over the years but he hadn’t seen any change over his lifetime. He was nineteen, maybe it was too short a time to notice, or to fool yourself. The clouds to the east that morning heralded the approach of land, then
came the comforting but soon annoying sound of seagulls wanting a feed. Later the low, dim outline of a mountain range could be seen. White tops, a green base. There were white seagulls poised in mid-air as if free from the world of sea and land never having known the touch of gravity; dolphins raced ahead like a marine honor guard, and a white-green horizon. It was beautiful.

  Some time after they passed the heads of the bay he could see in the distance the slowly emerging shapes of ships, masts, squat buildings, temples, and a few spires. Bethor was the trading hub of the known world, which meant the western part of the continent of Arva. No one knew if there were people in the east beyond the Great Desert. The other known continent of Werrin to the south had been visited by Center ships but was found to be either barren or semi-arid, and uninhabited. Lind now concentrated on setting up trading posts in the southern coasts of Arva. But everything still seemed to end up going through Bethor.

  Bethor had riches and knowledge and Mikel was eager to see the fabled Library and the Museum.

  The city straddled a river called the Inda, which emptied into the Bay of Pennit. The Inda formed a delta on the eastern side of the bay with several tributaries through the delta. Sometimes, Wizards wryly referred to Bethor as the Blind Spot, a comment on the resemblance of the bay and river to an anatomist's view of a human eye with Bethor sitting on the optic nerve. Beyond the city was an imposing mountain range running north-south, snow capped: the Cantas.

  The ship had already started maneuvering to head to the northern port so he still couldn’t see much of the city. He popped out his collapsible spyglass but it couldn’t resolve anything very well. Too far away; the scope was small and the optics were probably not the best. The port itself was some distance to the north of the delta area, near the northeast part of the bay. The bay was about 8 to 10 kilometers in diameter and circular, but eroded and missing a western arc that opened into the Western Sea. The shape was called a ‘crater’ by the locals, though none knew why. The delta area of the city, called only ‘The Delta’, wasn’t very big, about half a kilometer wide by a kilometer long, but it had become the center of the commercial district.