by Robert Beers
“Silgert.” Hem mused. “I heard of Silgert. Wasn't none of it good.”
“Then whoever told you about the place spoke the truth.” Ethan picked up his tankard. “I picked up my pack, and started walking into the forest, headed south. They followed, and we talked some more. I wanted to take it slow. Only a fool rushes through the woods.”
More grunts of assent.
Ethan sipped some more ale. “Ahhh, that's good. I set camp a few miles into the forest in a clearing with close water and some fruit trees mixed in with the rest. It's there I decided to see what the boy could do with that fancy sword of his.
“I've got to tell you something about myself to set the stage for what happened. I made my living with the blade for quite a few years. Got real good at it. You know the names Morgan and Bilardi?”
For a moment all he got was a quartet of blank stares. Then a light of recognition blossomed in Rober's eyes. “Swordmasters!”
Ethan nodded. “Yes. Both of them, the best in the world. I'm the third. My name's Ethan.”
He saw Rober gulp as he remembered the earlier implied threat when Ethan first asked about Adam. Helm settled back into his chair with a grin.
“Well, that sets the stage for the sword fight.” He finished off the last of his ale.
Oooo's of appreciation came from the girls.
“I thought the boy would be an easy pushover, but he surprised me. I don't know how large he's grown by now, but then he was about three-quarters my size, maybe a bit more. I was sure I could push past any guard he put up.” He smiled. “I was wrong. I wound up fencing with a swordsman as good as myself, only younger and faster. Fortunately, I had experience on my side, as well as a few tricks only I knew about. Damn near got myself skewered on one, but the second one worked. I tapped him on his backside. That trick probably wouldn't work now.”
Saichele giggled.
Ethan graced her with a scowl. “Go ahead, laugh. It wasn't funny at the time. The kid nearly scared the life out of me. Made me feel like an old man.”
She looked unrepentant.
“Well, that's about it.” Ethan leaned back in his chair. “I taught him a few more tricks during our stops on the way to Dunwattle, picked ‘em up after the first run through. Never saw anything like it. Last time I saw he and his sister was at the inn in Dunwattle. You ever see her shoot that bow of her's?”
Helm shook his head. “We never heard of a sister till now.”
Ethan's eyebrows rose in unison. “Oh?”
“S'truth.” Rober put his now empty tankard onto the table. “Was just him and the old man, the wizard he come into town with.”
Ethan's eyebrows climbed even higher. “Oh?” he said again.
“He scared me,” Decora said, hugging herself. “He had creepy eyes.”
“Naw,” Helm said. “He just looked intense, like the way Wizards do. My da, he's seen people what do magik before, and they looked the same way.”
“What was this Wizard's name?” Ethan leaned forward onto the table.
Circumstance, finished with his stew, sipped his juice and listened. Something inside awoke with the mention of the wizard.
Rober leaned forward and looked into Ethan's eyes. “He called himself Milward.”
Ethan's brows could not climb any higher. “The legend? He lives?”
Helm snorted. “Rob said, called himself Milward. Didn't say we all believed it. Some of the elders, they did, though. Man living over a thousand years. C'mon, it's a bit hard to take.”
Saichele leaned forward until her chin was resting on her arms on the tabletop. “I believed him,” she said dreamily.
Helm snorted. “You believe every guy who says he loves you.”
Decora rushed to Saichele's defense. “Helm!”
The busty girl held her friend off with an upraised hand. “It's all right. They mean it. Every time.”
Ethan could see why. The girl had a gift and knew how to use it. “Why did you believe him, Saichele?”
She looked at Ethan through thick black lashes. “Because Adam did.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Alford the 23rd, Emperor of the Southern Lands, scion of the House of Labad tossed the small handful of breadcrumbs onto the manicured lawn of his aviary. His action was rewarded with the arrival of dozens of brightly colored birds. Several of them boasted heads of an iridescent teal blue on a bright yellow body with wings containing soft golden yellow ovals in a field of dark green. Others in the crowd of bobbing heads and tails were smaller and plainer, but still colorful in their own right.
In the trees of the aviary, birdsong trilled and warbled through the leaf heavy branches. Two Whitecrests perched above their nest and preened their yard long curved tail feathers. The larger of the two, the female lifted her head and called. The song, high, sweet and melodic, caused Alford to look up and smile.
Another song answered that of the Whitecrest. It started as a low tenor and rose to finish in an achingly beautiful contralto. The melody brought to Alford's mind images of high mountains towering over wide rivers and the wind causing ripples in oceans of golden grain.
As always, when the Talegallu sang, he found tears coming to his eyes. He dabbed at them with a lightly scented kerchief, and dipped his hand into the bag of breadcrumbs.
The Emperor's aviary stood at a height of four stories, about half as tall as the golden dome of his palace. Its walls were of panes of glass, handset into individual frames, making the aviary an eight-sided spot of brilliance when the sun struck it.
The grounds around the aviary were park-like in their setting, with marble walkways laid in gentle curves throughout. A flowerbed surrounded the structure giving ample attraction to bees, butterflies and hummingbirds.
Alford leaned back against the wrought iron bench he sat on, and let his eyes wander through the glass wall of the aviary. He saw his secretary, Cremer, hurrying along the walkway towards the double doors that formed the entrance to his private retreat.
He allowed himself to release a small sigh of resignation, and stood up as he emptied the last of the breadcrumbs onto the lawn. It was time to go back to work.
* * * *
Adam tried to concentrate on the small stone hovering before him.
“Now add another one,” Milward said, from his perch upon the stump a few feet off the path. A grove of Aspens bracketed the path. Songbirds flitted through the tops of the trees and added their song to that of the wind passing through the leaves.
Adam exerted another finger of pressure and lifted one more of the stones, bringing it to a point level with the first one.
“Good. Now keep them perfectly steady while we talk.”
“Talk about what?”
Milward snorted. “Anything. I want you to be able to concentrate on more than one thing at a time. A Wizard has to be able to ... call it ... dividing his mind into compartments with each compartment working on or maintaining a separate task.”
“That's impossible.”
“No, it's quite possible. I've done it myself several thousand times as I recall, and you can, too.”
Adam was forced to consider the possibility. While Milward was talking, his attention had been pulled away from the stones, or so he thought. A part of him must have kept them hovering in place during the distraction.
He looked away from the stones toward the old Wizard. “Tell me again why we didn't take the horses they offered us at the Wayfarer hut down slope from Access?”
“I already told you.” Milward kept a steady eye on the stones. “Pick up another.”
A third stone joined the first two. “Tell me again.”
Milward's sigh was just short of exasperation. “Very well. It's simple. I don't like horses. I prefer walking. If I absolutely have to get somewhere faster than walking, I'll translocate myself there.”
Adam smiled. “Like you did when Gilgafed trapped you?”
“Don't be snide. Add another one.” Four stones now hovered in a line before Adam.
> “So, why don't you like horses?”
Milward grimaced. “You're not going to let up, are you?”
Adam tired of just keeping the stones in a straight line, and decided to have them play a complicated game of hopscotch. “No. Tell me about the horses.”
“Oh, very well. It happened when I was about your age. I'd just begun to learn that I was different from the other boys in my village. New Wizards were about as rare then as they are now.”
“What does that have to do with horses?”
“I'm getting to that. There was a farmer at the far end of the village who kept a few of the beasts. He allowed my friends and I to ride the gentler ones from time to time. I was all arms and legs then and hadn't quite gotten used to the changes of growing into my teens. I was, in a word, clumsy.
“I never should have climbed on that horse. I had a feeling I shouldn't do it, but my friends were insistent.
“I'll leave the mundane part of the ride unsaid, and move along to where the trouble started.”
“Sometimes, with the more powerful Wizards, your developing powers work a shaping without you consciously doing anything.”
“That happened to me.” Adam reversed the direction of the stone ballet.
Milward looked at him sharply. “It did? What was it? You destroyed a village? Leveled a mountain? By the way, add another stone.”
The four stones in the ballet became five. Adam looked back at the Wizard. “No, I healed a blind girl.”
Milward shook his head. “Yes, I suppose you would. Nice pattern, by the way.”
He leaned back on the stump and looked up at the Aspen leaves overhead. “My introduction to the ways of power wasn't quite so philanthropic. I was busy trying to stay upright on the nag I'd been given, when, for a reason unknown to me at the time, the beast reared and threw me into the bramble patch it was passing just then. Don't smile, it took several stitches to close some of the gashes I received.”
“Did you find out what caused the horse to throw you?” Adam now had the stones following each other in a mobius loop.
“Yes, eventually. One of my friends saw bright blue-white sparks jump from me to the horse from the region of my posterior. Don't laugh! You don't know how long it took me to lose the nickname they gave me after that, and no, I'm not going to tell you. You can use your imagination.”
“So ... riding horses just brings back too many bad memories?”
“You are remarkably perceptive for a young man. That's it exactly. I would rather walk from here to Ort, than ride another horse.
“Add another stone now.”
Adam now had six stones dancing in the air in front of him.
Milward nodded his approval. “Good control. Now double the amount.”
Six more stones rose off the path from various areas of the path and winged their way towards the original six.
“Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!” The six original stones dropped to the glade floor as the second six pelted Adam like horizontal hail.
He looked at Milward. Bruises were blooming on his face and arms. “What happened? I had them under control. I know I did!”
The old Wizard stood and leaned on his staff. “The contrary appears to be obvious. Actually, what happened is control overload. You had more than enough power to lift another six stones, but the additional compartmentalization needed to control them wasn't there. Too much, too soon. I see you can feel the results.”
Adam rubbed his cheek. “Yeah, I can. Do you have some Willit Bark in those pouches of yours? These bruises hurt like the pit.”
* * * *
Ethan finished buckling on his swordbelt as he took the stairs down into the main room of the inn. The bed he used last night was comfortable enough, but it wasn't his, and Ellona wasn't in it.
Only two of the chairs in the room were occupied. One held an old gaffer nursing a cup of hot tisane, the other, Circumstance. Somehow the boy had managed to get up and leave the room without disturbing him.
Circumstance was busy digging into a dish piled high with sausages, potatoes and eggs. The smell started Ethan's mouth watering.
He pulled out the chair opposite the one Circumstance was using and sat down. “Uh, where'd you get that, lad?”
The boy's mouth was full, so he pointed to the oaken door set into the back wall of the room.
“The kitchen must be back there.” Ethan said to himself.
“Do we dish up ourselves?”
Circumstance shook his head no and bit into another one of the sausages, adding a bit of egg right behind it.
Ethan stepped away from the table and walked over to the door. The smell of cooking came from under it. He swallowed the saliva building up in his mouth and pushed through.
“Good morning! Take it you want some breakfast. You with that beautiful boy sitting out there?” A woman with her hair bundled up in a cloth tied in the back called out to him as he came into the kitchen. She was busy stirring up a mix of potato wedges and link sausages. Ethan could hear to pop and sizzle of the eggs in the pan next to the one she worked.
She threw him a greeting consisting of a brief flash of white teeth. “I'm Sheriwyn, Westcott's woman. Grab yourself one of those plates over there.” She pointed at a stack of dishes on the long counter to the right of the sink with her spoon. “...and I'll fix you right up. Tisane's over there.” The spoon pointed to Ethan's left. A covered black kettle with heavy white stoneware mugs gathered around sat on another, shorter counter. A dipping ladle hung on a peg to the right of the kettle.
Ethan's stomach rumbled. He hoped the sound of stirring and popping grease covered the noise. Sheriwyn heaped his plate with sausage, egg and potatoes.
She looked into Ethan's face with a smile that had motherhood written all over it. “You tuck into that bit. Let me know if you want seconds. Run along, now.”
“Thank you, ma'am.” Ethan murmured. “It looks and smells delicious.”
“Oh, go on with you.” She waved him out of the kitchen gruffly, but her grin said she appreciated the courtesy.
Ethan rejoined Circumstance at the table. The old gaffer was gone from the room. His cup sat alone on the table he'd been using. “What time did you get up?” He stuck his fork into a chunk of potato and bit into it. The flavor equaled the promise of the smell.
“Mmmm. Oh, this is good.” He chewed, swallowed and speared another potato chunk along with a sausage.
“Um hmmm.” Circumstance mopped up the last of the grease on his plate with his last piece of potato while he chewed.
Ethan finished his second mouthful and paused with his fork poised over his plate. “What's bothering you, lad? Something's on your mind. Mind telling me what it is?”
“Not sure you'd understand.” Circumstance sounded tentative rather than sulky.
Ethan had to swallow before he answered. That woman in the kitchen could cook. Westcott was a lucky man. “Try me.”
Circumstance looked up into Ethan's eyes. “I think I now know what it is I have to do.”
“And what's that?” Ethan placed a combination of potato and egg into his mouth.
“I have to find the Wizard Milward and his apprentice.”
“The one they were talking about last night.” Ethan remembered he forgot to get some tisane to wash down the food. “You want something to drink? I'm getting a mug.”
“Circumstance nodded. “Yes, please. I have to do this, Ethan.”
“I'll talk to you about it when I get back.” Ethan walked across the room and through the door that led into the kitchen. He returned back through the door, bearing two mugs with wisps of steam wafting over their rims.
“Here you go.” He set one of the mugs in front of Circumstance. “Now, tell me more about what this is you have to do.”
Circumstance sipped the tisane. “It was when those people were talking about the rescue at the mine and this man named Adam who did the magik.”
“Go on,” Ethan said.
“I got this fee
ling,” Circumstance traced a random design in the condensation ring left from his mug sitting on the tabletop. “When they talked about the magik. I got it stronger when they talked about the Wizard Milward. I don't know what it is I have to do, but I do know it has to do with them.”
Ethan looked at Circumstance for a long moment and then dropped his gaze to the tisane in his mug. “You feel pretty strong about this, don't you?”
He got a smile for his trouble. “Strong enough to leave home in the middle of the night, I imagine.”
He got a laugh from Ethan in return. “Yes, you did that, didn't you? Led me on a merry chase, as well.” He paused to sip some more tisane. “Did pretty well in the wild, too.” he said, half to himself.
Circumstance leaned forward, resting on his elbows. “So I should continue to do well as I look for the Wizard. Don't you think?”
Ethan leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “I don't know ... it's a big world out there, and there's a lot of dangers.”
“Like ... Garlocs?” Circumstance raised an eyebrow.
“Yes ... like Garlocs. I have to tell you, it is strange how you knew about that Skunkbush.”
Circumstance said nothing in return. He felt his case had been made and he knew what he had to do. Up to a point.
Ethan looked down at the table for a very long moment and when he raised his eyes back to the boy's, his expression was unreadable.
“You're going to let me go.” Circumstance said it as a statement of fact.
“Yes. I suppose I am.” Ethan toyed with his mug. “I don't know yet what I'm going to tell your mother, but I'll figure something out by the time I'm back in Berggren.”
“Would ... would you go with me for one more day? I know it'll mean a longer trip back, but...”
“But you're feeling lonely already, aren't you?” Ethan's smile held understanding.
“Yeah, I guess so.” Circumstance replied. “There's a difference, knowing what you have to do, and actually doing it. The idea of starting, with you being here, I mean, it's not like leaving when everyone's asleep.”
Ethan finished his tisane. “Homesick?”
“A little.”
Ethan reached across the table and squeezed the boy's shoulder. “It'll be all right, lad. Of course I'll go with you. You know I will.”