The old wizard sat upon the bench by the well, gently bouncing a year-old boy on his knee. An older lad of not quite three years held onto the other leg, laughing. With a start, Marc realized these boys were his sons. He saw Valeria’s features in their faces mixed with those of his mother and father. What a wonder! To know they would be born filled him with pure joy. Eagerly reading all he could from the moment, he discovered their names, Sean and Oren. Of course. And Valeria? Where could she be? Casting about, he sought her. A touch on his hand made it all flee, replaced with Gildas standing before him, a loaf of bread in his outstretched hand.
“The honor of first bread is yours, Wizard Marc.”
Momentarily confused, Marc realized the vision had caused him to miss the monk’s blessing. Taking the loaf, Marc bowed slightly. “Thank you, Brother.” Holding it over his head for all to see, he moved to break it open, then stopped. “This honor belongs elsewhere.” Walking to Sean’s parents, he hugged both of them then put the loaf in their hands. With sad smiles, they nodded their thanks and broke it, holding the halves high as Sean’s father said, “For Sean.”
“For Sean!” the crowd thundered back as one.
Garrett jumped back onto the rock and shouted, “Let the feast begin.”
With a jubilant noise, the crowd made their way to the tables. Ten people remained standing. Earlier, lots had been drawn, and these ten were selected to serve the food. As they started to distribute the meal, Marc approached the one nearest him, a tall, thin girl with dark brown hair. His magic revealed her name, that she was thirteen years old and Leahenfehr’s niece.
“Sit, Magrit. I will take your place.”
With a smile she bowed slightly. “My thanks, Wizard Marc.”
As he took her serving bowl, he found Valeria, Oren and Gildas had done the same. Walking down a table, Marc gave each guest their portion, nodding and smiling in response to their thanks.
—May I help, too?— Gwen asked. —Or am I too young?—
—You are never too young to be kind to others.— With love, he watched her rise and change places with a server. Something made him look toward his mother. She, too, saw Gwen’s selflessness; pride for her daughter shone from her. Reading his mother’s thoughts let him feel her joy at how well her children were turning out, tempered with the soul-deep ache that their father, her husband, would never see any of their accomplishments. Later on he would tell his mother the good news that Sean told him as he died; that Davidus remained nearby, which meant he did see how well his children were turning out. It surprised Marc just how intensely his mother loved his father. Yes, he always knew they loved each other, but being exposed on a daily basis to their affections made him initially think everyone enjoyed such a relationship. As he grew older he realized how incredibly lucky his parents were. He glanced around for Valeria and found her passing out slices of venison two tables over. As if feeling his gaze on her, she smiled his way then returned to her work. He smiled as well realizing he, too, was incredibly lucky.
His serving bowl now empty, Marc returned to the cook house. As he filled it, Gildas came along side to do the same.
The monk nodded at him. “It pleases me to see you humble yourself before others.”
“It is the role we have both accepted, my brother.”
Marc felt a change come over the other. “Now I understand the error of my earlier thoughts. Magic is not evil. What matters is those who wield it. I cannot deny that you, Valeria and Oren are truly good people. Godly people. Can you forgive my lack of understanding?”
Marc gave him a gentle shrug. “There is no need to forgive something I never took offense to. To be honest, I must thank you for your earlier misgivings. It made me question my own relationship with magic, leading me to greater wisdom. As Oren once told me, we never stop learning.” Marc knew Gildas’ destiny and while he could not share that knowledge or influence his actions, it would do no harm to plant a seed. Meeting his gaze, he said, “Write down the things you learn during your journeys. They may prove useful one day.”
Gildas paused a moment to consider Marc’s words. “That I will do.” Hoisting the basket of bread onto his shoulder, he walked back to the guests.
Humming a song, Marc followed him.
— o O o —
After everyone had eaten their fill, they stood about involved in pleasant conversation. Marc looked upon them. The day before, many here feared for their lives and now peace filled their hearts. Numerous changes took place, not only within him, but within others as well. No one had changed more than Donald. Marc decided it was time to recognize that. Seeing Garrett heading for the rock he used earlier to address the crowd, Marc intercepted him.
“Garrett, may I speak with you?”
“Of course.”
“It concerns Donald.”
The man’s eyebrows narrowed. “Is there a problem?”
Marc smiled. “Not at all. I think it is time to change his status.”
Garrett returned the gesture. “I agree. Since I am his father, it might be better for one of the other men to speak to the village of this.” His gaze softened some. “I would be honored for you to do so.”
Marc nodded in acknowledgment. “You were about to speak to everyone—”
“It can wait.” Garrett waved him toward the rock. “You first.”
Marc scaled the stone and gathered his thoughts. Though he made no sound, a hush rapidly came upon the people and they drew near, waiting to hear his words.
Valeria’s thoughts touched his. —What is it?—
—Bring Don to me.—
She laughed through the Link. —Yes, he deserves it.—
As she moved to fetch their friend, Marc fought down the emotion rising within him; a wizard needed to appear calm at all times. “Did you enjoy the meal?” The crowd earnestly voiced their appreciation. “Good. Among us is someone who has proved his worth, putting this village before himself, even being willing to die for us. I wish to recognize that bravery.” Marc’s gaze fell upon Donald as he approached the stone. “Donald, son of Garrett, stand before me.” His friend complied.
“Two nights ago, Donald left this village to spy upon Crowe’s encampment, doing so against the wishes of the village leader. His actions were those of a child, seeking only to satisfy his own wants and needs. Captured and brought before Thaddeus, Donald then changed. He told Thaddeus he acted alone, against the wishes of his village. Donald pleaded with him, asking that he be punished instead of the village, knowing well such punishment meant an unpleasant death. And yesterday he just as bravely fought against Crowe’s forces. Men of Oak Creek, I ask you, are not these changes the actions of a man worthy of our respect?” A great din of agreement rose from the men. “Should we grant him his manhood this evening?” The sudden cheer was deafening. Donald looked at the ground, smiling, his cheeks flushed. Turning to Garrett, Marc motioned that he join him. “It is time for the oath.” Extending his arm, he helped Garrett onto the rock.
Gratitude shone in the leader’s eyes, his hand warmly squeezing Marc’s arm as they shook. “My thanks,” he said quietly. Turning toward Donald, Garrett proudly rested a hand upon his son’s head. “All here have witnessed your deeds....”
As Garrett continued with the ceremony, Marc recalled the day he and Sean became men. The thrill and pride of that moment surged anew within him. It had changed his life, physically and emotionally, putting him on the path that led to today. Many responsibilities fell upon him and Sean. He felt the weight of the amulet hanging about his neck—a reminder that his friend kept his promise to protect his village and people. His gaze fell upon Donald. He, too, proved worthy even before taking the oath.
Tears ran from Garrett’s eyes. “Face your village.” While Donald turned about, Valeria’s spirit touched Marc’s; her pride for Donald equaled his. Garrett raised his voice once more. “Citizens of Oak Creek, it is my great honor to welcome this man into our village. Do you agree?”
With a roar, the cr
owd moved forward and swallowed Donald into their midst. Even those from the neighboring villages congratulated him. When all had quieted down, Garrett retook his perch upon the rock. “This is a day to remember. We are safe, my son has become a man, and tomorrow morning the wizards Marc and Valeria will marry. All this calls for a celebration. Two days ago, when the wizards arrived here to help us face Crowe and Thaddeus, Oren asked me to start two casks of beer. At the time I did not understand the reason for his request, but now—” He grinned widely, nodding toward Oren. “Never argue with a wizard.” Laughter roiled out of the multitude. “The beer may be weak, it may not be the best, but we have plenty of it.”
Marc could not help but laugh, too, as many of the people whooped and jumped about as they followed Garrett to the cookhouse. Those who could not find any cups brought their dinner bowls along. Taking Valeria’s hand, Marc headed for the end of the line, but Donald blocked his path. He held out two large cups.
“Marc, Val. Take these with my thanks for everything you’ve done for me. I owe you my life several times over.” After they took the cups, he hugged them and left.
Finding an open bench, they sat facing each other.
Valeria sniffed at her cup. “Can we drink this?”
“Only one way to find out.” He took a sip. “Not bad. Try it.”
Taking a little taste, she smiled and took a swallow. “It’s good. The bubbles tickle my tongue.”
Laughing, he held up his cup. “To you, Val. I look forward to our life together.”
She kissed him, the earthy aroma of the brew tasting even better on her lips, then raised her cup to his. “As do I, my love.” Looking into each other’s eyes, they drank some more. She smiled knowingly. “You have something to tell me.”
Marc found himself eager to share what he foresaw. “I do. When Gildas gave the dinner blessing, I glanced at you and had a vision—a wondrous vision.” He told her of seeing Oren with their two sons. “Everything seemed so real, yet strange. Is that how you see visions?”
“Yes.” Sighing, she cuddled up to him, a calm joy pouring off of her. “Two boys. I’ve foreseen myself holding a girl as well.”
“So we’ll have three children?”
“At least. I love you enough to bear a hundred,” she said with warmth and love. “Drink.”
Chuckling, he did. “Trying to ply me with drink, eh, woman?”
Her eyebrows bounced playfully. “Garrett did say to celebrate.”
“Indeed.”
He tipped her cup up and she eagerly took a mouthful. The delightful shine in her eyes filled him with love. Content with each other’s presence, they sat for a time and watched the merriment around them. When several people began to play flutes and drums, Marc and Valeria joined with the others and danced. The more they danced, the more he felt the weight of the day lift from his shoulders. The more the responsibilities of life and magic ebbed away, leaving behind a quiet kind of peace.
He never felt so free.
Haunted Tree (The Magus Family Chronicles Book 1) Page 39