by Sigrid Kraft
“Good that you made it, Raiden,” Master Elderon said quietly, passing over the provocative behavior of the Prince. Then he addressed the audience: “Please everybody, take a seat so we can start the council. There are important issues to discuss.”
Master Elderon’s official opening words were followed by a report about his and Master Savyen’s latest observations on the advancing Unhaer. Then they moved on to a discussion of the Nimrod. How might it have been created? How could they find a way inside and might there still be something in there? Finally, the mages exchanged thoughts on how the Nimrod could be destroyed.
However, the discussion did not really produce any new findings. And to be honest, everything that had been mentioned that day had already been mentioned at the countless meetings before. Those present were the wisest and mightiest men in the whole world, but they were at their wits’ end and could do no more than go round hopelessly in circles.
Even the discovery of that wondrously gifted young man with the golden vein didn’t bring them any closer to a solution. Everyone there knew how many years of education it would take until a student was able to cast a difficult spell or even support another mage in such a matter.
The meeting was clearly going nowhere, so after several hours, Master Elderon brought it to an end. They all rose and Master Elderon departed to an adjoining room while the other mages remained in the hall, conversing. Only the Towerlord of the Black Tower was eager to take his leave.
Raiden was already walking down a stairway when Master Elderon summoned him telepathically, causing the Black Prince to alter his intended course for the gate and return unwillingly to meet Master Elderon in the other room.
To begin with, the Master of Aleroth had hesitated to undertake this step, but the lad still hadn’t given up his foolish stubbornness, and Master Elderon’s spying on Eryn’s thoughts had informed him that he was far from being about to give in.
“What is it you desire, Master?” asked Master Raiden with reserved politeness.
“Well, Raiden, I have a problem that you might help me with. It is that gifted young man. Earlier, at the council I glossed over the facts. The man is not only untaught – he refuses vehemently to learn at all. Encouragement and patient understanding have not changed his point of view. So I think it is about time to rethink our approach. Perhaps a more persuasive angle is required, and for this reason I have decided to entrust the man into your care. It is imperative that he begin to learn and to understand. I believe he will then discover for himself how important it is to dedicate himself to our cause. Nonetheless, it will take years until he is able to be of meaningful help for our goals. We have a long path ahead of us.” Master Elderon paused before saying firmly: “He must be educated and you shall be his Master.
I leave it in your hands to avail yourself of the available instruments to attain that goal. Only take care that he won’t be harmed. You know what I mean?”
Prince Raiden could imagine, but he wasn’t at all pleased with the prospects. “Am I now degraded to a nurse or a torturer?” he remarked stroppily.
“Raiden, you forget yourself – once again,” admonished Master Elderon, and Raiden mumbled an apology. Then he added: “Have I understood this correctly? I am to break the man so that he starts studying. A strange idea, don’t you think?” It’s a joke. And a bad one at that.
But Master Elderon meant it very seriously: “Make him start learning... with every means in your power. We must not lose this man for our great cause.”
The first mage let the words sink in, then he continued with great gravity and insistence: “If it happens that you don’t get through to the lad with your methods, there remains one last possibility of gaining complete control over him...”
Raiden turned pale: “Sir, that cannot be your intention. You won’t do that a second time to anyone! The soulban. Weaving it on someone is... cruel beyond all measure.”
With a benevolent voice, Master Elderon corrected: “Not I, but you. I know you are able to do so.” Then he added: “But only if there is truly no other chance of persuasion – and I trust you in this completely. You will not disappoint me.”
With the faintest of whispers, the Prince assented: “No, Master Elderon. I will do my best.”
The door opened and Master Talasin entered, having also been summoned by Master Elderon.
“Ah, Master Talasin. Master Raiden will now take the young man with him. Can you accompany Eryn to the gate?”
Raiden now unloaded his pent-up frustration upon Talasin. “And don’t forget to throw him in chains!”
Prince Raiden knew that Master Talasin believed in humanity and benevolence, and he hoped to provoke the other mage with his demand.
Talasin immediately expressed his opposition: “Is that really necessary?”
“Demoralization helps break resistance, and heavy chains are a start,” countered Master Raiden cleverly. Talasin, the words already on his lips, intended to argue the point, but Elderon telepathed him: “Let it be!”
The White mage held himself back and merely nodded in resignation. Then he took his leave.
“With your permission.” Prince Raiden bowed slightly and Master Elderon dismissed him, too.
After all these years, Raiden is still very difficult and about as tame as a rattlesnake. I am lucky, for the snake can’t bite me, but it loves to bites anyone else who makes the mistake of coming close. I am safe, but then I am the one who stepped on the snake’s tail.
6. Naganor – The Black Tower
The door to Eryn’s room opened and Master Talasin stepped inside. The mage seemed to be in a bad mood as he commanded: “Time to go. Get up!”
“Don’t your spells work any more? Those that make me walk against my will?”
Eryn discovered immediately that this was the wrong moment to utter a provocation. He was torn to his feet rudely by magic and then a spell hit him and he followed Master Talasin outside the chamber. The mage walked in silence, leaving Eryn to dwell on his own thoughts.
Aha, so this time we aren’t going to the Academy? They went down unfamiliar hallways and up several flights of stairs to the higher levels. A small spark of recognition ignited in his memory.
I have been here before...
Master Talasin stopped at a door, which they then entered. Inside the chamber, was a gate with superb artwork carved into the wood and beside it, stood a man, who seemed to be expecting them. Eryn examined him curiously. He was tall and slender, his oval face was framed by black hair and he had a long nose and conspicuously steel-blue eyes. The lips of his broad mouth were now tightened into thin lines of displeasure.
He dresses like a nobleman of the Lowlanders. And his entire bearing shows that he is used to being in command.
The man ignored Eryn completely and turned instead to Talasin. “Finally. I almost thought I would have to wait here for eternity,” he spoke condescendingly to the mage before starting to complain: “Haven’t you forgotten something, Master Talasin? Or do you perhaps think I will take that subject by the hand and guide him through the gate?”
I am not ‘a subject’! But the man must be very powerful to speak in such disrespectful tones to MasterTalasin.
It was obvious that they couldn’t stand each other. Every trace of benevolence had disappeared from Talasin’s voice as he now replied: “I hope you find fulfillment in your new challenge, Master Raiden.”
Eryn was surprised to learn that the nobleman was a mage, too. He would have never guessed from the manner and the clothing of the dark haired man.
“You don’t expect me to thank you for you wishes, do you?” As Master Raiden replied, heavy iron manacles appeared out of nowhere and fettered Eryn’s wrists and ankles. Eryn had become acquainted with the power of magic recently, but he was nevertheless frightened when the heavy iron now encircled his joints. He wanted to protest but he couldn’t. A spell no doubt prevented him from speaking, as the two mages didn’t want to hear what he had to say.
&
nbsp; Eryn was afraid: What’s going to happen now? Seems as if they’re starting to show their true colors.
The one Master Talasin had called Raiden grimaced in disgust:
“I have already mentioned that I am not willing to touch that degenerate subject with as much as a fingertip! Your work is insufficient, Master Talasin. But don’t trouble yourself further. I will see to the rest myself.” And immediately an iron collar appeared around Eryn’s neck. One end of a coarse rope was already attached to it while the other end lay in Prince Raiden’s hand.
“I am not so well versed in such things as you are. Fare thee well, Master Raiden.” And without waiting for a reply, Master Talasin turned and left them alone.
Within the arch of the gate, a whirl of a thousand bright colors formed, and Eryn stared at the magic, magnetized. Suddenly a hard punch struck him in the back and he tumbled forward right through the gate. For a moment, the colors whirled chaotically around him. Then, abruptly, he ceased his stumbling and fell on all fours. His eyes were now level with a polished black floor.
“Get up!” commanded the Prince, angrily, punctuating his order with a violent jerk on the rope.
Ugh, he’s trying to strangle me. The bastard. Not one of the nicer mages, it would appear.
Prince Raiden didn’t even wait until Eryn was on his legs again before he began chanting some spells. Eryn coughed a little as the collar pressed hard into his throat. He heard the mage’s incantation but there was no obvious change to begin with. He is working spells on me – that much I have already learned about the evils of magic.
“Well, that should do for now.” Ignoramuses are always so impressed by intoning. It can’t be wrong to awe him a little. Otherwise, the imbecile might not even notice that I am weaving magic. But how I absolutely loathe such gibberish. And now, stripling, we will strike another tone, because it isn’t my intention to waste my precious time on you for long.
“Listen! I will now explain to you exactly once, the rules of the game. So pay close attention. It is the first mage’s special wish that from now on you dedicate yourself to the studies of magic, so the sooner you abandon your foolish resistance, the better for both of us. It will save me a lot of time and effort and you all sorts of unpleasantness. Think about those words while I go and have a good meal.” Those unbelievably boring meetings of inconclusiveness yet again lasted far too long and my stomach is rumbling. I can give my attention to the buffoon later on. He won’t run off anyway. On the contrary, I fear he’ll hang upon me like a millstone around my neck.
Despite the fact that Eryn’s situation had worsened dramatically, he thought he ought to show a little rebellion. “You damned mages. May you all rot in hell!”A savage blow hit Eryn right in the face although the Prince hadn’t moved a muscle. He merely stood there as calmly as before. What a primitive peasant.
“Reconsider your behavior, lad. One thing you should always bear in mind: I am not the amicable Master Talasin of the White Tower.”Prince Raiden called for the guards and two soldiers dressed in black and silver entered the room. Eryn was shocked when he recognized them as the same men who had attacked the rebels’ hideout in the mountains. A sudden terror gripped his heart. The soldiers took hold of him and dragged him away, down several floors, where they finally pushed him into a room without windows. Only a torch on the wall offered some dim light. They bound him with a short chain to an iron ring that was anchored in the wall. Then the soldiers left and the door fell shut with a dull thud. Eryn was alone.
In Aleroth, I still hoped that one day they really would let me go – if I just resisted long enough. I don’t think so any more. Now they are revealing their true colors. These men here are my declared enemies. They will lead me to the gallows once again.
After the battle in the mountains and the loss of his friends, Eryn had felt the bravery of desperation. Now, in the loneliness of the cell, he felt only misery and fear creep into his mind.
A warrior of the Fenn is fearless in the face of death, he tried to reassure himself. Nonetheless, he began to tremble and his throat tightened when the door opened again. However, it was not the exquisitely dressed mage returning, but one of the soldiers. The man strode into the cell and stood two steps in front of Eryn with his legs apart.
“Where am I?” Eryn asked – more as a show of courage than out of interest. They shall not notice how terrified I am. As a Fenn, it is unworthy for a warrior to be overpowered by fear.
“It’s not for you to ask any questions,” the soldier dismissed Eryn roughly. “His Highness, the Prince of Ardeen, sends me to explain something about the customs and habits here and to teach you some manners. His Highness appreciates courtesy, so you’d better pay close attention.”
Oh no, not another school lesson.
Fortunately, apart from speaking to him, the soldier left Eryn in peace: “In Ardeen there are different social classes. Nobility and high nobility, noble burghers, burghers and common men and finally, the unfree and criminals. You can count yourself among those dregs of society – and those scum fall on their knees if they have any business with such a high ranking person as the Prince of Ardeen.”
For the sake of completeness, the soldier also explained the other rules. “Burghers bend one knee, noble burghers and the nobility bow deeply. Not that that is of any importance to you. You will address the Prince as ‘milord’ and you will only speak to him if you are asked to. Should the Prince honor with his presence a place where you also happen to be, stop your work – whatever it is – stand up and wait until His Highness deigns to address you or take his leave.”
This is nothing but abasement. To hell with that. Anger always helped Eryn to overcome his fear and he started to recite the doctrine of the Fenn: “All men are equal. No one is more worthy than another.”
The soldier snorted with laughter and after Eryn had finished, remarked in astonishment: “Where on earth do you come from? What twaddle! I’ll give you some well-meant advice for free. Better keep such stupid thoughts to yourself and don’t forget to behave humbly and respectfully towards the Prince. You’ll only regret it otherwise.” Then he departed, leaving Eryn once again alone in the cell.
Pah, those rules make me angry. No one is better than another. No one!
The passing of time felt longer that it really was, though it must have been several hours later when a key clattered in the lock and the Prince reappeared. He pulled up a chair, sat down and placed his feet on the solid wooden table which stood near the wall.
“With a well-filled belly the world looks so much better,” he declared jovially, which immediately reminded Eryn of his own empty belly. Which was no doubt the intention of his words.
Kind of you to remind me of that, but a little hunger won’t kill me.
“And, have you taken advantage of the time to reflect on my wise and well-intentioned words?” the Prince asked with his soft, ingratiating voice. At the same time, he released Eryn magically from his chains by making them disappear into nothing.
Eryn stood up and took a cautious step forward. His eyes fell on the poker leaning against the table leg. It is within my reach. If I am fast enough...
He leapt forward and cannoned into an invisible wall.
At the same time, he was thumped savagely in the stomach. The blow bent him forward, and in agony he collapsed on to his knees.
“Haven’t you been informed about the correct behavior to show towards others? Your kind approaches on their knees with their concerns. Well, you are permitted to speak now. I am listening.”
I am an idiot. In a world of magic, things aren’t the way I am used to. I couldn’t take Talasin by surprise and this man here is a mage too. “Damned murderer!”
Thwack! Eryn was boxed on the ears by an invisible force.
“The formal address is ‘milord’, or are you so feeble-minded that you can’t even remember the simplest things?” The Prince rolled his eyes. “How is this halfwit ever supposed to be able to learn anything? This is goi
ng to be fun. All right. Let’s start again. Slowly, so that your inferior brain is capable of grasping the words: Every discourtesy will be punished at once. It is up to you yourself how you will be treated in the future. Well or badly ... your choice.” Eryn pressed his lips together, holding his tongue. So the Prince continued to mock him, which seemed to amuse His Highness: “Coming back to your accusation... I can assure you that I haven’t murdered anyone – at least not in the last few years.” The Prince rocked back and forth on his chair. “But let’s not talk about me. We’ll talk about you, shall we? Name, age, background? Speak, boy!”
In protest, Eryn remained silent. Why do they all insist on calling me ‘boy’? I am a grown man and a warrior of my clan. I have gone into battle many times and I left the carefreeness of youth behind me long ago
It seemed as if the Prince enjoyed the sound of his own voice: “What now? Obdurate silence? Like a sullen child you sit there, although everyone wants only your best. Do you know what magical beating is?” The Prince waited for an answer, but when he received none, he drew his own conclusions:
“Naturally not. How could you? Well I will explain it to you, numbskull. Magical beating is a kind of illusion. It does not leave any lasting damage, but the pain is very real and lasts for several hours. The tortured – what an ugly word – let’s call it ‘the inflexible man’; well, the individual who desires to be convinced the hard way, hopes to lose consciousness or to break free at last when sweet death takes him. But that won’t happen with a magical illusion punishment. So the question is: How much pain can a man endure? Or to be even more precise: How much pain can you endure?”
Eryn kept silent, but the threat of pain hung ominously in the air. He tried to distract himself by focusing his thoughts on his strong beliefs in tradition and his Gods.