Jaunten (Advent Mage Cycle)

by Honor Raconteur

  “That will save us a lot of time and effort,” Elion agreed with something like relief on his face. I don’t think he relished the idea of trying to quickly build a city.

  An elderly gentleman on my left stirred slightly. “Magus, you said that you could delay this break?”

  I turned to him and arched an eyebrow. “Yes, sir.” Now that my eyes were on him, I started to pay a bit more attention and realized that he had a very specific crest on the left shoulder of his tunic—this, then, was the Master of the Architect Guild.

  “Magus, tell me, is there any way for you to hasten the process?”

  What was he getting at? My head cocked slightly at the idea and I started to consider all of the ramifications. “Yes,” I answered slowly. “It will certainly be easier than trying to delay it. Why?”

  “I quite like this city that I live in,” he answered with a growing smile. “Tell me, Magus, is it possible that we can keep it? Is it possible for you to break the city away from the mainland, and then build a bridge that connects the new island to the mainland?”

  What he was suggesting was so alien to what I had envisioned, I had to stop and really think about it for a moment. Keep the city…just speed up the breaking process and allow the city to become an island. If the break was successful, then build a land bridge from mainland to island. It was unorthodox, but I couldn’t see why it wouldn’t work. “The buildings will absorb a lot of impact and damage,” I warned. “This will not be an easy or clean break.”

  “The buildings are made out of stone, for the most part,” he replied with a twinkle in his eye. “And you have already said that you have control over any element of the earth.”

  Hm. Granted, it would be a lot easier to just fix this city than to build a new one… “The possibility has merit,” I agreed with an approving nod. “It will certainly be less work.”

  I swear that everyone in the room perked up when this new idea had really sunk in. “Can you really do such a thing?” Elion demanded with growing enthusiasm.

  At this, I shrugged wryly. “It’s easier to break than to mend, Patriarch. It might take me a week or two of effort, but yes, I can make this city into an island.”

  “And the bridge?” Elion pressed impatiently.

  The bridge would be child’s play compared to everything else. “Easy,” I assured him.

  "Let me see by a show of hands how many are in favor of this new proposal!" Elion called with real enthusiasm in his voice.

  My eyebrows shot up when practically every hand in the room went up—aside from a woman at the far end, who apparently was debating something with the man sitting next to her. Her vote hardly mattered; the majority was in favor of keeping the city.

  "Excellent." Elion beamed like a child with candy in his pocket—candy that his parents didn't know about. "Magus, I assume that we cannot have anyone in the city while you're breaking it away from the mainland?"

  "Correct," I confirmed. I wasn't entirely sure of the protocol for this, as I had never attempted something so…radical? Extreme? Insane? There just wasn't a good adjective handy for this situation. Still, from what I knew of the plates under the earth, I think everyone within a two hundred mile radius was going to feel it when I started pounding the earth apart. "I would move everyone at least fifty miles away," I cautioned him, making sure that my voice was loud enough that the entire room could hear the warning.

  "This will take some time," Captain Landis noted thoughtfully. "And we'll need to make a base camp of sorts to move everyone to."

  There wasn't much that I could do in the city itself, but this part I could do. "Patriarch Elion, I can scout the area and prepare a place to move everyone to, and then fix the roads on my way in."

  "While you're doing that, we'll make sure the city begins to pack up," he promised.

  Finally! We had an agreement; we had a plan; I had some real work to do. This would still take a while, but maybe within two months or so I can get back to Del'Hain, meet up with Chatta and Trev'nor, and have some time to relax.

  Chapter Seventeen: Night

  Small Rider came with me to scout out the temporary site for Jward's inhabitants. I was never given a good reason for him accompanying me, but I didn't really need one either. Small Rider, undoubtedly, knew the area better than I did and when he wasn't trying to bribe Night away from me, he was good company.

  Actually, there wasn't much 'scouting' to do. Small Rider told me that he knew the perfect place to put everyone, and we rode directly to it. Even at the hard pace we set, it took a full day to get there. Once I looked over the location, I had to admit that he had chosen well. It was a shallow valley that bordered next to a stream, more than large enough for our needs. I spent a few hours improving the area a little—mostly making a very wide, firm road that led to the valley. The road connected to the main highway that we had used to get here. Once I was done with that, I fully intended to turn around and start fixing the highway. It was in pretty good shape, actually, but there were a few rough spots that were sure to cause problems.

  Small Rider had different plans.

  When I told him of my intention of fixing the highway, he shook his head. "There is something else we must do first," he disagreed with a stubborn set to his jaw.

  I quirked an eyebrow at him, clueless. "Such as?"

  "You have said that you do not ride Night because he lacks training, yes?"

  "Yes," I agreed with slight suspicion. Was he suggesting that he take the time to train us now?

  "We have time to do this now," Small Rider continued, splitting his attention between me and Night.

  "No we don't," I objected. "We need to get back to Jward, there's still a lot to do there—”

  "You cannot do much there at the moment," Small Rider corrected. "They are still packing, and making plans for evacuating the city. Your time would be better spent here, learning how to be a true Rider."

  I opened my mouth to protest, but he had a point. Really, until they had everyone ready to move, I couldn't do much to help except keep an eye on the situation. "Okay," I said slowly. I glanced at Night, who was watching me just as thoughtfully. "It's up to you," I told him with a slight shrug. "Do you want to do this now?"

  "Yes. I'm tired of you not riding me."

  I had thought that, over the year, Night had gotten used to me riding other horses. From the sour look he was giving me, apparently it was still a sore point. I nodded and turned back to Small Rider. "What do we do first?"

  ~*~

  The first couple of hours, Small Rider focused solely on Night. He attached two very long reins to a bridle, or at least that was the idea…Night gave him a disdainful look at the bridle and spit it back out. Night had known since the moment that he was born that he was a Nreesce—a mount created for a Mage, or Wizard, or Witch. He had no problems with letting Garth ride him, either. But there were limits here; certain lines that he was not about to cross.

  The bridle was one of those lines.

  He was a Nreesce. He was not a horse. He didn't need some two-bit bridle cutting into his mouth in order to control him like a dumb animal. The cutting look that he directed at the Tonkawacon said as much. He silently dared the man to even think about putting that back into Night's mouth.

  Small Rider let out an explosive sigh. "Night, you need a bridle."

  "No, actually I don't," Night disagreed, his dark glower increasing.

  "Yes, you do," Garth growled out. "Night, I know that you are an intelligent being, and, yes, you can choose for yourself, but when I'm riding you, I'll need to direct you."

  "You can do that with your voice," Night pointed out.

  "And if we're in a situation where it will be dangerous to talk to you?" Garth demanded, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "I need a silent way of directing you."

  "You can think the thoughts at me."

  "Night," Small Rider said patiently, "it is necessary to have a bridle of some sort on you." Night shifted, ready to protest this,
but Small Rider held up a hand. "Wait, let me finish. I realize that you can direct yourself, and Garth can certainly direct you with voice commands, but it is far faster for him to simply direct you with the reins. And what if he is talking to someone while riding? He needs to focus on the conversation instead of verbally directing your every footstep. Do you really want him distracted in a dangerous situation because he is talking to you, instead of instinctively guiding you with his hands?"

  Night was all set to argue the point…but at this moment, the Jaunten blood that he had inherited from his mother (through Garth's accidental intervention) decided to kick in. She had known that it was necessary to have a bridle. In fact, every Nreesce had been equipped with one—not like the one in Small Rider's hands, but something similar.

  Heaving a disgruntled sigh, Night decided to compromise. "The bridle shouldn't be shaped like that."

  Small Rider looked puzzled, glancing at the bridle in his hands. "Eh?"

  Garth perked up slightly at this. "Jaunten knowledge?"

  Night nodded. "I know what the Nreesce bridle looks like. There is a strap that goes across my chest, and that strap is directly connected to the nose piece. That way, I feel the pressure when you tug, but there is no bit in my mouth."

  Small Rider knelt in the ground and quickly drew out a rough sketch with the aid of a small knife. "Like this?"

  Night cocked his head to look at it, and then nodded slowly. "Yes, that looks about right. But it's not made out of just leather; there are metal rods at both ends where the two pieces connect."

  Small Rider corrected the drawing where Night had indicated. "Is this right?"

  "Yes, that's it."

  "It will take some time for me to create something like that," Small Rider said, still thoughtfully staring at the drawing. "But I can do it. In the meantime, let's get you used to everything else."

  Everything else was, naturally, the saddle and blanket. Night really didn't like the feel of the blanket and didn't care much for the saddle either. They made him feel like he was being…submissive. Night was a young stallion, fully grown and independent, and the feeling of being submissive to anything rankled. He shifted from foot to foot in irritation as Small Rider put everything on him and strapped it down.

  Small Rider dealt patiently with the irritation, letting Night become familiar with the new equipment. This was far more than he ever did with a young colt on the first day, but Night was not your normal young horse either. Still, Small Rider felt it best not to push things too hard on the first day. "I know this feels strange," he soothed as he took everything back off again, "but you'll soon get the feel of it."

  Night let out an extended snort, eyeballing the saddle and blanket with scorn.

  Small Rider sighed, exchanging a look with Garth. They had a lot of work ahead of them.

  ~*~

  Day Two of the training dawned. Night was watching Garth and Small Rider talking, some distance away. Small Rider had insisted that for this to work right, Garth would need to be the one who would train him. Night certainly liked the idea of Garth training him over Small Rider.

  The problem, of course, was that Garth had no idea how to do that; hence, the conversation between the two men.

  Night flicked his tail idly, clearing off a fly that wanted to land on his back. This conversation had been taking place for at least an hour already. Just how much longer would it take to teach Garth what he needed to know?

  Night was all set to take a mid-morning nap when Garth finally nodded and headed in his direction. In his hands was a modified bridle—not quite what Night had described the previous day, but the bit had been removed and the reins adjusted to connect directly to the nose piece. Night would still have to be very alert to the commands given on the reins, but it would work for now.

  Obediently, he held still while Garth slid the bridle over his head and adjusted the reins over his back. Night, at a year old, had reached most of his height—he now stood at a very tall eighteen hands. Garth, unfortunately, was still at a medium height for a Chahiran and was having a hard time holding both reins over Night’s back. He had to stand on tip toe in order to do it.

  “All right, Night, let’s start.”

  Night had his ear cocked a little in Garth’s direction; his attention was focused on the bridle around his head and the tugs of pressure that Garth was giving him. Turning right was no problem, and even though it felt somewhat odd to be directed like this, he was adjusting just fine.

  When he turned left at Garth’s urging, however, his shoulder rammed right into Garth’s chest and he nearly stepped on his foot. “Garth!”

  Garth grunted at the impact and staggered back a step. “Sorry, I didn’t expect you to turn quite that sharp. I didn’t back up enough.” The Mage stepped back and took an analytical look at the situation. “Hm. Let’s try this.” He stepped back several feet, letting the long reins trail over Night’s back.

  Night twisted his head in order to see, wondering just what by all magic his Rider thought he was doing.

  “Night, don’t turn your head!”

  “But I can’t see you back there.”

  “You’re supposed to be paying attention to the reins, not looking at me!” Garth responded in exasperation.

  Small Rider was standing a few feet away, shaking his head and obviously praying for patience. “Garth, you cannot stand that far back. He won’t be able to feel anything through the reins, not without a bit.”

  Grumbling, Garth went back to his original position, holding the reins over Night’s back. They started again, with Garth giving his Nreesce different signals, and slowly getting him accustomed to everything. Night was fine for the first half hour or so, but after a while, he got tired of doing the same thing over and over. He started to become sloppy when responding, or only doing the bare minimum required.

  “Night, pay attention.”

  “I’ve got this; can’t we do something else now?”

  “You have to do this until it’s instinctive,” Garth responded patiently. “You’re still hesitating a moment before you respond, which means you still have to think about it for a second. Stick with it, all right?”

  Night blew out an irritable breath.

  It was going to be a long day.

  ~*~

  It took the rest of the day of going over (and over and over) all of the commands before Garth was satisfied that Night was comfortable with them. Night was glad he finally stopped, because Rider or not, if Garth hadn’t stopped then, Night would have done something nasty to him later.

  Finally, the day ended and Night was able to sleep, back hoof cocked at a slight angle and head dipped low. Normally, when he slept, he didn’t really remember his dreams.

  This night was an exception.

  Maybe it was the influence of the Jaunten blood singing through his veins. Maybe it was because he was finally training with his Rider. Maybe it was a combination of both—whatever the reason, Night dreamed of the great Nreesces before him. Khaer and his Rider Taab Liiben became famous during the war for saving an entire city from destruction. Hekrewb and her Rider Sojavel Ra, who went down in history as the first Nreesce and Rider pairing that served on the Trasdee Evondit Orra. That Council gave all magical beings the same rights as humans. There were many Nreesces and Riders that had carved their names into history, and Night dreamt about all of them to one degree or another.

  It was still dark when he woke, with only a bit of light flirting over the top of the mountains. It was pre-dawn; normally Night hated being awake this early in the morning. He was rather like Garth in that respect—neither one of them were morning people. This morning, however, he wasn’t irritated about being up. In fact, his mind was rehashing the dreams from the night before, and he couldn’t help but think that there was some underlying message to them.

  Since he had been old enough to understand, Garth had sat him down and explained just how the Jaunten blood worked. The only time that magical blood memory kicked i
n was when Night needed it. He had seen this happen for Garth many times already, from everything to identifying food to knowing which road to take while they were traveling. Knowing what he did of magic, Night could not easily dismiss the dreams that he had as nothing more than an overactive imagination.

  The Jaunten blood had engaged for a reason. A part of his mind compared his conduct with the conduct of those legendary Nreesce, and he winced. He had been whining for almost a year now of how he wanted Garth to ride him, and how had he reacted when Garth finally started to train him?

  If his mother were still alive, she probably would have smacked him.

  Well! Maybe he had acted like a brat yesterday, but he wasn’t going to do that from now on. He’d accept his Rider’s lead in this, as a good Nreesce should, and stop being so mule-headed.

  Night waited patiently for the other two to wake up, eat breakfast, and to get the next part of the training. He stayed docile and polite when Garth started to put a blanket on him.

  “How does that feel?” Garth asked him cautiously.

  Had he really been acting so badly that his Rider was wary of his every reaction? Night turned his head slightly so that he could look at Garth. “Fine. It’s rather like wearing those blankets you put on me during the winter.”

  Garth notably relaxed. “Good! Let’s put the saddle on, then.”

  Despite having gone through this two days ago, the sensation of having a blanket and saddle on his back was still strange. The saddle was definitely a different experience. The weight of it was not really important, but the cinch that went around his belly was…odd. It was not really uncomfortable, just snug. Night wasn’t used to wearing anything that confining.

  When it was in place, Garth took a step back and looked at Night carefully. “How about that?”