To Be Chosen (The Maestro Chronicles)

by John Buttrick

  Simon followed the mountaineer to the barn where a carpenter’s work bench was set up in the back. Ronn went to work, putting together the pieces he had meticulously cut and shaped, and completed the first chair. Simon touched the chair and the pile of wood next to it, and then summoned the potential for Shaping and a second chair came together exactly like the one Ronn had made. Simon continued the process until all ten chairs were made.

  The mountain carpenter inspected the work and finally gave a grudging nod of approval. Simon knew all of the chairs were identical to the smallest detail. It did not take long for Miriam to get back with a pair of stallions, Raindancer and Flashpoint, both from Donald Laird’s breeding facility. They gathered the vegetables, packed up, and began the journey to Ducanton.

  Chapter Nine : Mentors of Great Repute

  “The Ducaunan capital should be coming into sight in a few more marks,” Sherree Jenna needlessly told Jerremy DeSuan, a newly raised one bolt Accomplished of the Stone Guild, and her fellow veteran of the Battle of Bashierwood. He had been in the same geography class she once attended so did not need the information. She was nervous, being on her way to meet Fenton Chen, but also concerned about a certain Ducaunan who had been made a Royal Knight of the Realm.

  Jerremy smiled at the statement and pointed his nose slightly upward, pretending he did not hear. He was like that with her. If Samuel Cresh had told him the same thing, he more than likely would have had a scathing retort, those two had been sniping at each other for years, and only after the final grades were posted before graduation to Accomplisheds did they speak kindly to one another.

  His mentor, Master Artisan Franklin Togan, was in the cabin they shared on the riverboat. Forty oarsmen rowed against the current of the Mighty Hirus. It had taken six days to reach this point, mostly because no members of the Zephyr Guild were aboard to speed the voyage along. Several boats fortunate enough to have those Accomplisheds passed them by even as she and Jerremy stood staring off the starboard rail.

  “Naturally they would call upon the Stone Guild to help investigate the rediscovered city of Tomlin,” the tall Serinian continued the conversation they had been having before she interrupted him, doing so as if she had not spoken. It was a one sided conversation to be sure, but she enjoyed his company none the less. Tall, dark and handsome is how Charlene described him and she was not wrong, although Sherree thought of him as a brother who at times can be annoying but worth putting up with. “It was sunken beneath Lake Tomlin for nearly nine hundred years. You know, it was only discovered when the water level dropped and a spire appeared in the middle of the lake,” he added while waving his arms animatedly, that sort of thing truly excited him.

  “This project will be a great addition to your accomplishments,” Sherree told him.

  “There is that,” he admitted. “It is Master Togan they actually need, but an Apprentice cannot be separated from his mentor until being raised to Journeyman, so I have the privilege of accompanying him.”

  “It seems we three veterans of Bashierwood have been placed with mentors of great repute,” Sherree said as a gust of wind blew back the hood of her black and crimson silk cloak. Normally she would have automatically pulled it up but the gesture was futile where she stood, besides the wind in her hair felt good. “At least I am getting off soon. You have more than a hundred spans to go.”

  “True on both counts, I heard Samuel is being mentored by Jeremiah Lassiter, a Senior Soarer, and you a Senior Practitioner, someone is helping our careers along. It is unusual for seniors of any guild to be saddled with Fledglings, Interns, and Apprentices. And yes, I have a way to go yet before getting off this boat, and then have another twenty or so spans over land before reaching the lake, but what we, Master Togan and I, will be doing is well worth the effort,” Jerremy replied.

  “Our career helper is the Grand Maestro,” Sherree said, managing to sound respectful, it was not easy, but she was developing a grudging respect for the man so it was not as hard as it used to be.

  Jerremy smiled and nodded his head. A son of a Serinian lord would have already figured out the politics of the situation. “I don’t need the daughter of a hotel magnate and the cousin of a queen to tell me that,” he replied, bringing up her father’s heritage as well as her mother’s.

  “The fact may have escaped your notice while your nose was in the air,” she teased.

  A chuckled slipped out of him before he was able to assume his normally haughty expression. “Perhaps, but my peripheral vision is excellent so few things of importance escape my notice.”

  “Did you know Charlene had a crush on you?”

  He blinked for several moments, his left eyebrow arched up speculatively, and then he resumed his haughty expression. “I specified things of importance. Her feelings have no more relevance for me than do Daniel Benhannon’s for you.”

  That is what she got for bantering with the Serinian; he struck the mark dead on. “Of course not, I only cared for him as one in need of healing,” she lied.

  Jerremy laughed. “One of the good things about traveling with you by boat is that you cannot stop and heal every sick or injured creature we come across. I will grant you did a good job of keeping the mountaineer functional with that spell you should not have known until after affiliating with the Aloe Guild.”

  Sherree had never explained how she learned that spell to anyone, those who were there when her Potential was discovered did not need to be told, and the information was no one else’s business. “Is this your way of asking about the acquiring of my repertoire?”

  Once an Aakacarn affiliates with a guild it is considered rude for a member of a different association to inquire about the specifics of another Accomplished’s repertoire. Jerremy raised his arms in a warding off gesture. “I would not dream of it, but was merely stating a fact,” he quickly assured her.

  She smiled, letting him know she was not offended. “I thought not. Why don’t we go to the galley and have our mid-day meal?”

  “Why don’t we,” he replied and gestured with a broad swing of his right arm toward the hatchway.

  As they were eating, Sherree handed him an amulet with an amber stone set in gold. “I want to hear of your accomplishments first hand.”

  Jerremy accepted the communication device and gave her one in return. “Keep in touch,” he told her and then deliberately assumed his haughty expression as if the moment never happened.

  She marveled over how often he pretended to not care about other people, but she knew he did care; else he never would have entertained those children back in Bashierwood, nor exhausted himself healing a village full of injured commoners after the battle. She would have liked giving an amulet to Samuel, desiring to stay in touch with him as well, but the newly raised Accomplished of the Eagle Guild was not available at the time, and she had a boat to catch.

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  Jerremy should be well up the river, Sherree pondered as she stood in the vestibule of the seven storied mansion designed and built by the Stone Guild. This was the residence of the Accomplished of Ducanton, who was approaching her even as she took in the surroundings of the place that would be her residence for the foreseeable future.

  Fenton Chen was a lean man with light brown skin and black silky hair cut short. His brown eyes were ovoid in shape and his mustache neatly trimmed, sloped around his chin and along his jaw line. His dark complexion marked him from the coastal region of Zune; people from the interior, including the royal family, had skin that was a dark pink in color. He was about a hand shorter then her. “Come with me,” he said in a low monotone.

  Sherree followed her new mentor down a maroon carpeted hallway to the first door on the left. The room was pale green with a couch and two chairs facing each other with a table between them. He sat in the chair on the right and motioned for her take a seat in the other. “I am honored to be mentored by you,” she said in an attempt to break the ice. The man’s face seemed to be carved in stone
, showing no sign of expression, and his tone of voice, what little she heard of it, was neutral.

  “It was not my decision. I was told to mentor you and I shall, that is all there is to it. You see, discipline is everything, and those who fail to comprehend this are prone to sloppy work. My feelings toward the order given to me are irrelevant. I shall teach you to the best of my ability,” he replied in his monotone.

  This man was nothing like her previous mentor, but that was not important. Sherree well understood the importance of discipline. “I will study hard,” she assured him.

  He gave a quick nod of the head in acknowledgement. ‘I expect so. Your records indicate one who can put aside frivolous things and focus on your task, which is why you excelled above your peers all the way through levels one through four. Your casting ability is not in doubt, your repertoire will continue to grow at a respectable pace, but it is in other aspects I intend to sharpen your skills.”

  “I am looking forward to your instructions,” Sherree replied.

  Fenton stared at her for quite awhile, still showing no emotion, just studying her. “Did your previous mentor discuss with you matters of intimacy?”

  Sherree had no idea where the Senior Practitioner was going with this line of questioning. Obviously, healers dealt with people’s intimate physical problems, and would naturally see them in situations that could be embarrassing under different circumstances. “I know our profession forces us to deal with people on an intimate basis, I have no problem healing someone, male or female, of the most personal of afflictions.”

  “I am not asking if you have difficulty seeing people in the nude or healing them of various sexual dysfunctions,” he replied, and then folded his hands in his lap. “It seems you have not been fully informed. Some mentors wait a year or more before discussing this topic, but I see no reason for keeping necessary information from you.”

  “I am prepared to receive your instruction,” Sherree replied, wondering what Barbara Cofer had kept from her.

  “Talenteds are taught that Accomplisheds do not marry, and that is true. We do not marry nor reproduce. Any attempts by Talenteds to indulge in sexual activity are stamped down hard. It is part of the discipline. There are two schools of thought; I am of the old school. It is a point of personal pride that I do not behave as the commoners do, that through self-discipline I do not engage in sexual intercourse. There are a good number of Accomplisheds who subscribe to the same tenants as I. However, there are some who are sexually active and sometimes accept gratuities in the form of intercourse rather than coins. Do not look so shocked. I have read how you disciplined a number of male Talenteds who attempted to seduce you. Celibacy is required of all Talenteds, but is only suggested for Accomplisheds. The only rules are: Be discrete and do not reproduce. You are young, from puberty to adulthood is not many years, do you really think those boys you humbled will remain celibate for two or three hundred years?”

  “I never thought about it,” Sherree replied, she was shocked, and apparently doing a poor job of hiding it. The hypocrites! She brought her emotions back under control and tried to match her tone with that of her new mentor. “I believed Accomplisheds held themselves to a higher standard.”

  Fenton nodded his head. “Then we are of the same mind. Those who indulge in such behavior lack self-discipline,” he said while producing a paper from the inner pocket of his cloak and handing it to her. “The Melody is titled, Childless, and it prevents reproduction. It works for both male and female Accomplisheds. If for any reason you slip from the firmness of your ideal, cast this Melody upon yourself.”

  Sherree glanced at the paper and quickly put it in the inner pocket of her cloak. “I’ll not have need of this spell,” she said and then waited for her mentor to speak.

  The Senior Practitioner leaned forward in his chair. “It is no longer my concern. I have given you the necessary information and it is yours to do with as you will. According to your records, you have great compassion, on people as well as animals, and many of your Instructors have written that you are destined to be a great healer.”

  She felt the heat in her face, having not expected such praise, even if it was delivered in a flat tone and dead pan expression. “I don’t like to see people or creatures in pain.”

  “What about yetis? They are creatures, you have not only seen them in pain, you caused it,” Fenton replied.

  Sherree remembered the Battle of Bashierwood and directing, Wall Of Wind, at hordes of yetis, knocking them down so archers could slaughter them with arrows. “I don’t have compassion on the cause of pain.”

  Fenton’s lips quirked up slightly. He almost smiled. “That is the answer I wanted to hear. This means I merely have to redirect your passion. Compassion will only carry you so far. If you feel too strongly for patients, over many years and many cases, especially those where the person cannot be saved, you will eventually become an emotional wreck.”

  “I understand about the need for clinical detachment,” Sherree was quick to assure her mentor. This man was famous for his ability to emotionally detach from the suffering of his patients.

  “You are my intern and what you learn from me is a reflection on me, therefore I will teach you how to divorce your emotions from the patient,” he stated and then sat back in his chair. “You had no problem with the suffering of yetis because you viewed them as the cause of the affliction. That is the secret. Do not focus on the suffering of the patient, focus on the affliction. Pain is a part of life, so forget about how your patient feels, he or she hurts, and that is that. Illness, disease, and injuries are my enemies and the patient’s bodies are the arena in which I face my foes, nothing more. I must conquer each ailment. Most of the time I win, but sometimes I lose, usually because the patient has waited too long to receive my healing or was not brought to me in time.”

  Sherree was not sure she could ever learn to treat each patient as merely a battle arena, but she would certainly listen to the Senior Practitioner, and try to improve on her emotional detachment.

  “Self-discipline and focusing on the ailment, these are the keys to being a success, and must be developed in you. Time and experience will strengthen your focus. Discipline we will work on every day,” he added.

  Sherree knew the time spent with Fenton Chen would not be fun, but it would be educational. “Where do we begin?”

  Fenton stood up. “We have patients to attend. You will treat the minor ailments while I heal the more challenging ones. After I see how you work, your cases will become more difficult, and I will guide you through the ones that are actually life threatening.”

  Sherree arose and followed her mentor out of the room, down the hall, through several more doors, to where twenty nobles were waiting. There were a few Ducaunans in the room, but most of the patients seemed to be from other kingdoms. Clearly the locals still did not fully trust Aakacarns. Fenton quickly sorted the cases that would be hers and then the healings began.

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  Samuel Cresh stood in the middle of a pine forest staring at the mummified remains of two Accomplisheds, one of which had been stripped of his cloak. It was possible that these Aakacarns had nothing to do with Serin Gell’s escape, but not probable. What he could not figure out was, if they were going to teleport anywhere, why here? A clearing less then twenty-five spans from Aakadon seemed to be a poor choice. Whatever the reason, Samuel wanted to be on the move, but Jeremiah Lassiter, the Senior Soarer, and his mentor, had other plans. He kept pacing the area, bending down, examining twigs, leaves, and who knew how many other insignificant things. Still, the Two-bolt Accomplished knew his business and Samuel kept his mouth shut and tried to appear patient.

  “Sam, stop fidgeting and come over here,” Lassiter told him. The man was of mixed parentage, his mother Ecoppian and his father Taracopian, not that it mattered among the Aakacarns, but the combination gave him his father’s face and his mother’s skin tone and height. The Senior Soarer was clean shaven
and a full head taller than his Fledgling.

  Samuel walked over to his mentor and looked where he had been squatting. “What do you see?” the man asked.

  “Pine needles disturbed, probably by Serin Gell and two other persons,” Samuel replied. He had visited the cell once occupied by the Accomplished of the Serpent Guild, collected samples, and had the report of how many Aakacarns were involved straight from the Senior Soarer who had been there.

  “Your theory sounds plausible, but I want verification of the facts, not assumptions. Hunches and guesswork have their place in our profession but they can lead us wrong, so it is best to verify what we can when we can,” Lassiter told him.

  Samuel pulled a vial containing a single hair from the inner pocket of his cloak, cast, Locate: Serin Gell, and focused the potential on the ground, rather than in a radius. He closed his eyes and sensed a hair beneath the disturbed pine needles. He placed a Da Capo in the Melody, opened his eyes, and kept blinking to keep focused on the target item while brushing aside the gray-green needles to get to the hair, and then levitated it up for his mentor to see. “Verification, this hair matches the one I retrieved from Serin Gell’s pillow. He was definitely here,” he announced triumphantly.

  Lassiter chuckled at him. “How long ago were they here? What way did they go?”

  Samuel eyed the area. The pine needles indicated the trio moved off to the north and that made him think of what places would be of interest to Serin Gell in that direction. Tinewood was a large town fifty-two spans to the northeast. Clover was forty-seven spans to the northwest. Fifty-two spans north of that town was the city of Bane located near the southern base of Mount Tannakonna and then realization struck him like a lightning bolt.

  “What conclusion has widened your eyes?” his mentor inquired.