Belyn nodded. “It also suits my purpose. With the studies of the stones so far advanced, I can leave my research in the hands of those I can trust. Unfortunately, none are of our order, but with things as they stand, I do not believe that matters any more.” Belyn nodded in Raoul's direction. “Yes, we know what you want my friend.”
Raoul smiled “Books,” he said as Keldron mouthed the exact same word. “I may not agree with our glorious leaders, but I will spread the word of the law wherever we go through the text of the order!”
“You acolyte,” laughed Keldron as he poured them all a glass of Orit.
“This is going to need a lot more planning than thinking about our personal wishes. What say you to not attending this meeting and trying to sort out what we are going to do about our 'predicament'?”
With a sly look in his eye, Belyn answered, “It will take them hours to find us here. We are the only ones who travel these corridors.”
Raoul let a mock look of misery posses his face. “Oh isn't that a shame. We will have to find some way to transport enough Orit to last us. Otherwise we had better hope the ingredients can be found because I for one refuse to go without it.” The three raised their glass in a mock imitation of the elders on feast day.
“Here's to us, and all like us. Damn few!” With that the three companions downed their Orit, sat down, and started to plan their journey.
It was a good couple of hours later that one of the elders came shuffling through the door, frustration painted on his face like a repressed thunderstorm.
“Elder Cyarda,” Keldron welcomed the ancient being in their midst like a long lost brother. “What a pleasure to have you here. Simply a pleasure it is.” The old man scowled. Beady eyes showing more than a hint of suspicion peered out from under great masses of snowy eyebrows as he glared at the three younger wizards. Moving slowly with the aid of a cane that seemed as likely to snap as he was, he settled down into a chair off to one side of the dais. Once settled, he glared again at them.
“You were summoned to a meeting several hours ago.” He pointed a bony finger towards Raoul. “YOU knew about this and were sent to tell them.” Raoul swallowed hard, the sound emphasised by the lack of noise anywhere else in the room. As Keldron glanced aside at him, he could see old pale face was back. The old man paused, seeming to chew on his lip as much as chew any thoughts in his ancient mind. At length he looked up again, as if remembering that instead of his customary half doze, he was supposed to be chastising some younger members of the order.
“It has been my extreme displeasure to come find you. So now you will no longer ignore us, and take your places in the great hall. Follow me!”
Cyarda, known by many to be a fool with some talent, had been an able administrator in the guild when he was younger, but for the past thirty years had grown old with most of the other members. Keldron suppressed a smirk. Most of the laws were that old, but who could change them with so much conservative opposition. If they hadn't seen the barges on Lake Eskebeth, most of the order would refuse to believe that anything could float on water. The old man became a picture of motion, albeit, a rather slow motion as he moved towards the door, gazing a little too intently at the decor of the room. A smile slowly spread across his face as he paused and gazed at some particularly rare liquor that Belyn had been saving. Shuffling slowly in to the maze of halls that lead back to the main set of rooms, Cyarda forced the younger guildsmen to follow him at his pace. At one point he stopped and produced a chipped and cracked marble egg.
“I have got them and am returning,” he announced at length, and then as if he had been told something amusing continued to chuckle as he shuffled for quite a while.
Keldron confirmed to himself what he had noticed over the years: that some elders were so arch-conservative that they believed only one focus stone would ever work for them, so they never changed them. He recollected the time he had chosen the guild as an apprentice. They had seemed so welcoming and full of life then. It only took a short while for him to realise that this was a dead end career, and those above him were resistant to any humour, any sign of individuality. Those traits were frowned upon and quashed by constant peer pressure to conform. But deep down he had locked himself away, and as a beginning he had formed a pact with his two companions; to never become an elder as they saw them. He knew it would take time, but eventually they would leave and be able to prosper using the skills they had learned. It seemed this time had drawn very near but the elders did not know that they were playing right in to his hands. He would travel wherever they told him, but he would first go through the forest of Merdon and speak with the traders. He knew a few and they would lead him to those who could help him. This wasn't a punishment as the guild thought; this was an opportunity.
At points, the old man stopped and frowned his ancient brow in concentration. Instinct told Keldron that he was creating a psychic map, one of the many techniques that the baser stone could accomplish. As with most of the baser stone techniques, it was not offensive. It was very useful though, and Belyn had used it to map the entire building. It was obvious that the guild was prepared to make use of their rooms, or at least Cyarda planned to. At length, after the longest short journey any of the three had ever undertaken, they reached the main hall of the order. The great doors were shut. This was most unusual. Voices raised in debate made muffled echoes in the empty corridors. The dust here was minimal, but enough could be seen to show that a great many people had recently passed by.
The age worn tiles, with depressions marking the years of abuse even seemed that more marked. The old man turned and glared at them.
“You will wait here,” he seemed to mumble, and then with the aid of his stick, he shuffled off through a side door. As he passed through, the words 'Not be expelled' burst through.
“If I'm not mistaken, that was the voice of our friend and mentor Obrett Pedern,” Keldron observed. Belyn raised an eyebrow in query. The question was obvious. It was Raoul who voiced it.
“Why was he talking about expelling? Maybe they have actually stirred themselves to the point they have researched some of the Law they so preciously guard.”
The others looked at him.
“If enough members of the guild object to the membership of someone, they can be expelled. It has rarely been used. Rumours have it that the only other one to research the stones was expelled in such a way. However, no one will admit to having ever been at such a meeting.” Raoul shuddered. In a voice seldom used, one of potential defeat he added, “I could not live with myself if I was expelled. The Law is my life, and I do not know what I would do without it.”
Belyn clapped him on the back in a reassuring fashion. “Well my friend, we are still of the order as of now, and we will try to stay that way, come what may on the other side of the doors.”
They waited outside whilst the debate went on. Keldron assumed it was for one of two reasons: those being that either they were just not important enough to be admitted at this time, or the elders were purposefully trying to intimidate them. He reasoned that one was as good as the other. They were in no position of power mainly because they were young by a good thirty years, and it was the spiteful nature of the elders to do something like this. Eventually, locks began to click on the other side of the doors; signs that they were going to be let in. It was at this point Keldron had an idea. He motioned for his two companions to bend close and said in a low whisper, “When we go in there, keep close to me and let me do the talking.”
“What have you got planned for us old friend?” asked Belyn with mirth in his voice. He knew Keldron well enough to figure that something was up.
“Trust me” replied Keldron with a hint of something in his voice. Raoul groaned.
“What?” enquired Belyn.
“It's at these points where something usually goes disastrously wrong!” his friend replied.
The massive oak doors opened to reveal a room steeped in history. The beams supporting the roof merg
ed into huge columns of stone that were buttressed at floor level. In between these were set alcoves where elder members of the order sat. On either side of the huge room were depictions of previous leaders of the order; many of these were great men. In Keldron's eyes they cast a shadow over the old men present today. Many were not worth the company they sat in. Great chandeliers hung up the great aisle that spilt the two rows of benches where the majority of the order were seated, many looking thoroughly bored. The chandeliers glowed with light created by the focus stones. Not a good strong flame like the product of Belyn's experiments with the dense iron rock, but a sickly pale light as only the baser marble could produce.
The three younger wizards strode purposefully to the focus point of the room, a huge monstrosity of stone and wood upon which the eldest members of the Order presided; Belyn and Raoul took their cue from Keldron and stayed abreast of him, one on either side. They reached the dais and knelt on the first step, in the Order's ritual of greeting. Standing again, the three were greeted by the steady gaze of Caldar, the eldest and administrator of the Order.
“Keldron Vass, Raoul Za, Belyn Stroddick. You have been summoned here today to hear the decree of the Forum of elders. The decree states that you will travel henceforth, and with no delay, to the distant Isle of Caighgard. There you will go about such repairs and maintenance as will keep the ancient temple in a decent state until such time that it is repaired, or one of your number joins High Jettiba.”
Keldron knew that meant only one thing; with one directive issued in the monotonous voice, the feeble administrator had exiled them for life. Unusual, but not surprising considering Belyn had told them these hours ago. He cleared his throat, indicating to the old man that he wished to speak.
“Go ahead. Speak.” The old man almost snapped in reply. Keldron stepped up onto the dais, then broke all protocol and turned to face the guild.
“Brothers” he announced whilst slowly adjusting his brown, unassuming tunic, then indicated his two companions. “We are proud to have been chosen for this most Holy of tasks. We have considered it for many years and have passed our wishes to the Forum whenever possible. It pleases us greatly that at long last, our wish may be driven to fulfilment. We will go unto this place with the utmost speed and we shall restore it. And when we do, we shall send for you. The original temple is our heritage from which the Law sprang, and it shall flow across the world from it again! Brothers, let us rejoice! For the time is near when we shall sit atop the mighty battlements and remember that the Law flows from us! And the people will respect the Law!”
Keldron spoke directly to the heart of each of the men present. Their dream, no matter how little they believed in it now, was originally for people to respect the Law laid down by the first people, and Keldron and his two companions seemed to offer a dream come true. Those that tended to drift off to sleep stuttered awake when the rest cheered. Once explained what had been said, they croaked an agreement in voices long underused in the effervescence of energy that was a debate of Law. The only member of the audience to keep quiet was Obrett Pedern. He was originally the tutor of the three when they were apprentices, and he had taught them to be different whilst appearing to conform to the politics of the order himself. He sat there with a small smile on his face, looking at his protégés. Behind them, the eldest of the men sat there spluttering. This had not been what was meant for the three upstarts. Caldar himself was rigid with fury, veins throbbing at his temples, providing a counter beat to the throb of applause coming from the gathered mass. He watched with a calculating look in his eye as the three left the dais and walked down the centre of his room whilst the congregation broke up.
As they managed to escape the main hall ahead of the tumultuous crowd, Raoul muttered under his breath, “Kel, I know I am all for the Law of old being reinstated, but I don't think we are going to accomplish much with this lot looking for a miracle.”
Keldron grinned at his friend. “Do you not see what has happened in there? That lot are so shaken up at what I said that they will be looking into the old Law for months, even years, and pestering Old Caldie for years to come! By the time he regains enough control to carry out whatever plans he seemed to have lain, we will be completely lost from him. He will not know where to start looking.”
“Plus,” added Belyn, “I have a few of my newer tricks that will aid us.”
“Oh? And what would they be?” Enquired a strict sounding voice from around a corner. Obrett seemed to materialise from the shadows. One who looked relatively youthful despite his age, Obrett stood by his principles. Unfortunately, one of those principles was gaining information through any means possible. But he cut his former pupils a little more slack than most of the order.
“Master, I suggest that you join us, as the proper amount of focus from four people on this can rend any focus stone within a mile useless for months. I assume you have yours on you?” Belyn held a stone that appeared to be full of small fossilised, ancient shell creatures, the swirls of surrounding sediment creating a pattern that the eye simply could not follow. He tucked it back into his robes, and continued walking. “Yes, my pupil, I have my stone, safe as always next to my skin. But why do you propose such a course of action? The majority of the order have done nothing more than be ignorant.”
Keldron continued the explanation in a hushed voice as Belyn concentrated on creating a ward. “We have nothing against the said majority,” he replied to the ancient but brisk man. “But we feel that Caldar at least will have agents trailing us as soon as we leave, which we will do in the morning. His agents will most likely be those who can focus, as they are the best trackers. Remember, not everyone here is as venerable as you, Master.” The old man smiled, showing that at least one person was capable of a positive emotion in this guild.
“So what you are saying is that when we cast this focus, any possible pursuer will be less likely to follow you?”
“Because they are all currently present within the building!” exclaimed Raoul, earning a scowl from Belyn who had only just raised the ward.
Keldron continued. “You see, Master, although this is unfortunate, we were planning to venture out at some point anyway, not necessarily in the direction of the Temple, though my good brother Raoul has designs with that in mind. Belyn, however, has a desire to collect more varied types of stone, as all the types from around here are accounted for.”
Their tutor raised an enquiring eyebrow. “What is it that you want, Keldron?”
The younger man paused, causing everybody to halt. “You know what it is that I want, Master. I want to find the secret behind the Night of the Spears.”
The rest of the brief journey back to their quarters was undertaken in a jovial mood, for the three younger wizards, having accepted their fate, were now enthusiastic to leave. In a short while, Keldron found himself locking his door for perhaps the last time. He had with him some spare clothes, a few parchments and ink quills, and his stress balls and focus stone. He needed little more, as Belyn was providing enough funding to allow them to live like kings, though this was not their wont. He fumbled in the large pocket low down on his tunic, eventually producing a tiny sphere of a soapy like substance that Belyn insisted was a rock. Keldron concentrated on the stone and his door, eventually feeling a warming sensation from the rock. The sensation passed, and the rock crumbled to dust, precisely as Belyn had predicted. He laughed through his nose as he looked at the fine dust on the floor; a one time only focus stone used for a particular purpose. The forum of elders would have collective apoplexy at such a notion!
Keldron looked at the doorway; it was not there. Were any person to come this far up the building they would find a pleasant view out of the window and nothing else. The ward that hid the doorway was set to trigger an explosion should anyone try forcing their way in there. Unfortunately, that would ruin much of the evidence he had to leave behind. That was the only negative aspect to such a ward. Still, Keldron assumed he would not come back here anyway,
so why think about it? He shouldered his light notes bag and met Obrett on the stairs leading to his room. Obrett nodded and turned to look out of a window.
“You certainly do pick your places to live, my boy. The view is splendid, simply splendid.”
“I like it,” Keldron replied, and correctly guessing his tutors next statement he added, “That is why I have been there so long; I hid some of my more delicate notes, and then just sat there gazing at the afternoon sun on the lake.”
Keldron turned and sighed. Obrett decided to take charge. “There's no use getting sentimental my boy, there are plenty of other sights to see, plenty of sunsets to view. But you need to get a move on now while the thought is moving in that direction.” Laying an ancient but still youthful hand on his protégé's shoulder he said quietly “Always remember, keep your thought concentrated on your goals. For like the focus stone, your goals in this are important. I have the feeling that there was more to those killings twenty years ago than anyone was willing to, or able to believe. I feel certain that you will find something, some scrap of information that will lead you to the answer.” Keldron chuckled, laughter lines on his face making him seem even younger to the old man.
“One more lesson, Master?” The old man nodded. “That, and this. Watch your step. And trust nobody.”
Belyn brought out the muddy fossil stone for them all to see. He laid it upon a pedestal in the centre of the room. He then motioned for the three others to join him around the pedestal.
“Now, I want you all to follow my lead in this, as it is fairly difficult. The shield is in place, and all that is left for us to do is focus on this stone. Now when you start to concentrate, think about the shape of the stone rather than what is contained therein. I have tried this before, and I know that the swirls and shapes within tend to distract the mind – even minds as disciplined as ours. I will go first. When I begin, do not make a sound or move a muscle, for the stone needs a certain resonance to be able to focus its energies correctly. When you do so, you will feel a warmth. Do not be alarmed as this is part of the focus.”
The Focus Stone (The Tome of Law Book 1) Page 7