Silverthorn

by Raymond E. Feist

  He looked at her. ‘I had no wish to trouble you, love. I thought them mere ghosts of memories from the times of trouble. But now I … I am not sure. One returns with frequency, coming more often lately. A voice in a dark place cries out to me. It seeks my aid, begs for help.’

  She said nothing, for she knew her husband and would wait until he was ready to share his feelings. Finally he said, ‘I know the voice, Katala. I have heard it before, when the time of troubles was full upon us at its most dreadful moment, when the outcome of the Riftwar hung in the balance, when the fate of two worlds rested upon my shoulders. It’s Macros. It’s his voice I hear.’

  Katala shivered and hugged her husband close. The name of Macros the Black, whose library served as the seed for this growing academy of magic, was one she knew well. Macros was the mysterious sorcerer, neither of the Greater Path like Pug, nor of the Lesser Path like Kulgan, but something else. He had lived long enough to seem eternal and he could read the future. He had always had a hand in the conduct of the Riftwar, playing some cosmic game with human lives for stakes only he understood. He had rid Midkemia of the rift, the magic bridge between her own homeworld and her new one. She nestled closer to Pug, her head on his chest. Most of all, she knew why Pug was troubled. Macros was dead.

  Gardan, Kasumi, and Dominic stood at ground level admiring the work proceeding above. Workers contracted in Shamata were laying course after course of stone, building up the high walls of the academy. Pug and Kulgan stood nearby, inspecting the newest plans submitted by the Masterbuilder in charge of construction. Kulgan motioned for the newcomers to join them. ‘This is all vital to us, so you will please indulge us a bit, I trust,’ said the stout mage. ‘We have been at work for only a few months and we are anxious to see the work uninterrupted.’

  Gardan said, ‘This building will be immense.’

  ‘Twenty-five storeys tall, with several higher towers for observing the heavens.’

  Dominic said, ‘That is incredible. Such a building could house thousands.’

  Kulgan’s blue eyes sparkled merrily. ‘From what Pug has told me, it is but a part of what he knew in the City of Magicians on the other world. There an entire city has grown together into a single gigantic edifice. When we have completed our work, years from now, we shall have only one-twentieth part of that, or less. Still, there is room to grow, if needs be. Someday, perhaps, the academy may cover this entire island of Stardock.’

  The Masterbuilder left, and Pug said, ‘I am sorry for the interruption, but some decisions needed to be made. Come, let’s continue the inspection.’

  Following the wall, they rounded a corner to come upon a group of buildings looking like nothing so much as a small village. Here they could see men and women in various manner of dress, Kingdom and Keshian, moving among the buildings. Several children played in a square at the centre of the village. One of them was William. Dominic looked about and saw Fantus lying near a doorway in the sunlight, a short distance away. The children were frantically trying to kick a ball fashioned of rags bound in leather into a barrel. The game seemed devoid of rules of conduct or play.

  Dominic laughed at the sight. ‘I used to play the same game on Sixthdays when I was a boy.’

  Pug smiled. ‘As did I. Much of what we plan has yet to be implemented, so for the present the children’s duties are occasional things. They don’t seem to mind.’

  ‘What is this place?’ asked Dominic.

  ‘For the time being, it is the home of our young community. The wing where Kulgan and my family have our rooms, as well as some instruction rooms, is the only part of the academy ready for use. It was the first section completed, though construction still continues above on the upper floors. Those who travel to Stardock to learn and serve at the academy live there, until more quarters can be made ready in the main building.’ He motioned for them to follow him into a large building that dominated the village. William left the game and tagged along beside his father. Pug placed his hand upon the boy’s shoulder. ‘How are your studies today?’

  The boy made a face. ‘Not so good. I gave up today. Nothing works as it should.’

  Pug’s expression turned serious, but Kulgan gave William a playful push back towards the game. ‘Run along, boy. Worry not, your father was equally hardheaded when he was my student. It will come in time.’

  Pug half smiled. ‘Hardheaded?’

  Kulgan said, ‘Perhaps “slow-witted” would be a better way to put it.’

  Entering the door, Pug said, ‘Until the day I die, Kulgan will make sport of me.’

  The building turned out to be a hollow shell. Its only purpose seemed to be to house a large table running the length of it. The only other feature of the room was a hearth. The high ceiling was supported by rafter beams, from which hung lanterns that gave off a cheery light.

  Pug pulled out a chair at the end of the table, signalling for the others to sit as well.

  Dominic was pleased with the fire. Even if it was late spring, this day was chilly. He said, ‘What of the women and children about?’

  Kulgan withdrew his pipe from his belt and began to stuff the bowl with tabac. ‘The children are the sons and daughters of those who have come here. We have plans to organize a school for them. Pug has some strange notions about educating everyone in the Kingdom someday, though I don’t see universal education becoming the vogue. The women are either the wives of magicians or magicians themselves, women commonly regarded as witches.’

  Dominic appeared troubled. ‘Witches?’

  Kulgan lit his pipe with a flame on the end of his finger and exhaled a cloud of smoke. ‘What is in a name? They practise magic. For reasons I do not understand, men have at least been somewhat tolerated for practising magic in many places, while women have been driven from nearly every community where they are discovered to have power.’

  Dominic said, ‘But it is held that witches gain their powers by serving dark forces.’

  Kulgan waved the notion aside. ‘Nonsense. That is superstition, if you’ll forgive my being blunt. The source of their power is no more dark than your own, and their behaviour is usually a great deal kinder than that of some of the more enthusiastic, if misguided, servants of some temples.’

  Dominic said, ‘True, but you are speaking of a recognized member of a legitimate temple.’

  Kulgan looked directly at Dominic. ‘Forgive the observation, but in spite of the Ishapian reputation for a more worldly view than that of other orders, your remarks are profoundly provincial. So what if these poor wretches do not toil within a temple?

  ‘If a woman serves in a temple she is holy, and if she comes to her power in a hut in the woods she is a witch? Even my old friend Father Tully wouldn’t swallow that piece of dogmatic tripe. You are not speaking of any inherent question of good or evil; you’re talking about who’s got a better guild.’

  Dominic smiled. ‘You, then, seek to build a better guild?’

  Kulgan blew out a cloud of smoke. ‘In a sense, yes, though that is less the reason for what we do than is trying to codify as much magic lore as possible.’

  Dominic said, ‘Forgive my harsh questions, but one of my charges was to determine the source of your motivation. The King is your powerful ally, and our temple was concerned that there might be some hidden purpose behind your activities. It was thought, as long as I was coming here …’

  Pug finished, ‘You might as well challenge what we do and see what we say?’

  Kasumi said, ‘As long as I have known Pug, he has acted with honour.’

  Dominic went on, ‘Had I a single doubt, I would have said nothing now. That your purposes are only the highest is not in doubt. Just …’

  Pug and Kulgan both said, ‘What?’

  ‘It is clear you seek to establish a community of scholars, more than anything else. That, in and of itself, is laudable. But you will not always be here. Someday this academy could be a powerful tool in the wrong hands.’

  Pug said, ‘We are
taking every precaution to avoid that pitfall, believe me.’

  Dominic said, ‘I do.’

  Pug’s expression changed, as if he had heard something. They are coming,’ he said.

  Kulgan watched with rapt attention. ‘Gamina?’ he asked in a whisper.

  Pug nodded, and Kulgan made a satisfied ‘Ah’ sound. ‘The contact was better than ever. She grows in power each week.’

  Pug explained to the others, ‘I read the reports you brought last night and have summoned here one who I think may help. With him comes another.’

  Kulgan said, ‘The other is … one able to send thoughts and receive them with remarkable clarity. At present she is the only one we have found able to do so. Pug has told of a similar ability on Kelewan, used during his training, but it required preparation of the subject.’

  Pug said, ‘It is like the mind touch used by some priests, but there is no need for physical contact, or even proximity, it seems. Nor is there the attendant danger of being caught up in the mind of the one touched. Gamina is a rare talent.’ Dominic was impressed. Pug continued, She touches the mind and it is as if she speaks. We have hopes of someday understanding this wild talent and learning a way to train others to it.’

  Kulgan said, ‘I hear them approaching.’ He rose. ‘Please, gentlemen, Gamina is something of a timid soul, one who has undergone difficult times. Remember that and be gentle with her.’

  Kulgan opened the door and two people entered. The man was ancient, with a few stray wisps of hair, like white smoke, falling to his shoulders. His hand was on the other’s shoulder and he walked stooped over, showing some slight deformity under his red robe. From the milky orbs that stared blankly ahead it was obvious the old man was blind.

  But it was the girl who commanded their attention. She wore homespun and appeared about seven years old, a tiny thing who clutched at the hand upon her shoulder. Her blue eyes were enormous, illuminating a pale face of delicate features. Her hair was almost as white as the old man’s, holding only a hint of gold. What struck Dominic, Gardan, and Kasumi was an overwhelming feeling that this child was perhaps the most beautiful they had ever seen. Already they could see in those childish features the promise of a woman of unsurpassed beauty.

  Kulgan guided the old man to a chair next to his own. The girl did not sit, but chose to stand beside the man, both hands on his shoulder, fingers flexing nervously, as if she feared to lose contact with him. She looked at the three strangers with the expression of a cornered wild thing. She took no pains to disguise her distrust.

  Pug said, ‘This is Rogen.’

  The blind man leant forward. ‘Whom do I meet?’ His face, despite the age it showed, was alive and smiling, uptilted as if to hear better. It was evident that he, unlike the girl, enjoyed the prospect of meeting newcomers.

  Pug introduced the three men, who sat opposite Kulgan and Rogen. The blind man’s smile broadened. ‘I am pleased to meet you, worthy gentlemen.’

  Then Pug said, ‘This is Gamina.’

  Dominic and the others were startled when the girl’s voice sounded in their heads. Hello.

  The girl’s mouth had not moved. She was motionless, her enormous blue eyes fixed upon them.

  Gardan said, ‘Did she speak?’

  Kulgan answered, ‘With her mind. She has no other power of speech.’

  Rogen reached up to pat the girl’s hands. ‘Gamina was born with this gift, though she nearly drove her mother crazy with her silent crying.’ The old man’s face became solemn. ‘Gamina’s mother and father were stoned to death by the people of her village, for having birthed a demon. Poor, superstitious people they were. They feared to kill the baby, thinking she would revert to her “natural” form and slay them all, so they left her in the forest to die of exposure. She was not yet three years old.’

  Gamina looked at the old man with penetrating eyes. He turned to face her, as if he could see her, and said, ‘Yes, that is when I found you.’

  To the others he said, ‘I was living in the forest, in an abandoned hunter’s lodge I had discovered. I also was driven from my home village, but that was years earlier. I foretold the death of the town miller and was blamed for it. I was branded a warlock.’

  Pug said, ‘Rogen has the power of second sight, perhaps to compensate for his blindness. He has been without sight since birth.’

  Rogen smiled broadly and patted the girl’s hands. ‘We are alike, we two, in many ways. I had grown to fear what would become of the girl when I die.’ He interrupted himself to speak to the girl, who had become agitated at his words. She stood shaking, her eyes welling up with tears. ‘Hush,’ he scolded gently, ‘I will, too – everyone does. I hope not too soon, though,’ he added with a chuckle. He returned to his narrative. ‘We came from a village near Salador. When word reached us of this wondrous place, we started our journey. It took six months to walk here, mostly because I am so old. Now we have found people like ourselves, who view us as a source of knowledge, not a source of fear. We are home.’

  Dominic shook his head, amazed that a man his age and a child had walked hundreds of miles. He was obviously moved. ‘I am beginning to understand another part of what it is you do here. Are there many more like these two?’

  Pug said, ‘Not as many as I would like. Some of the more established magicians refuse to join us. Others fear us. They will not reveal their abilities. Others simply do not yet know we exist. But some, like Rogen, seek us out. We have nearly fifty practitioners of magic here.’

  ‘That is a great many,’ said Gardan.

  Kasumi said, ‘In the Assembly there were two thousand Great Ones.’

  Pug nodded. ‘We also had nearly that number who followed the Lesser Path. And of those who rose to the black robe, the sign of the Greater Magician, each was but one in five who began training, under conditions more rigorous than we are capable of here or would desire.’

  Dominic looked at Pug. ‘What of the others, those who failed their training?’

  ‘They were killed,’ Pug answered flatly.

  Dominic judged it a topic Pug did not wish to pursue. A flicker of fear crossed the girl’s face and Rogen said, ‘Hush, hush. No one will hurt you here. He was speaking of a faraway place. Someday you will be a great teacher.’

  The girl relaxed, and a faint flicker of pride in her expression could be seen. It was obvious she doted upon the old man.

  Pug said, ‘Rogen, there is something taking place that your powers may aid us in understanding. Will you help?’

  ‘Is it that important?’

  ‘I would not ask if it were not vital. Princess Anita lies in peril and Prince Arutha is at constant risk from some unknown enemy.’

  The girl became worried, or at least that was how Gardan and Dominic read her expression. Rogen cocked his head, as if listening, then said, ‘I know it is dangerous, but we owe Pug a great deal. He and Kulgan are the only hope for people like ourselves.’ Both men appeared embarrassed by this but said nothing. ‘Besides, Arutha is the King’s brother, and it was their father who gave us all this wonderful island to live on. How would people feel if they knew we could have helped but didn’t?’

  Pug spoke softly to Dominic. ‘Rogen’s second sight … is different from any I’ve heard of. Your order is reputed to have some knowledge of prophecy.’ Dominic nodded. ‘He sees … probabilities is the best way I can describe it. What may happen. It seems to require a great deal of his energies, and though he is tougher than he looks, he is still quite old. It is easier if only one person speaks to him, and as you have the best understanding of the nature of the magic that has occurred, I think it would be better for you to tell him all you know.’ Dominic agreed. Pug said, if everyone else will please remain silent.’

  Rogen reached across the table and took the cleric’s hands. Dominic was surprised at the strength remaining in those withered old fingers. While not able to foretell himself, Dominic was familiar with the process as performed by those of his order. He cleared his mind, th
en began to tell his story from when Jimmy first ran foul of the Nighthawk upon the rooftop to when Arutha left Sarth. Rogen remained silent. Gamina did not move. When Dominic spoke of the prophecy naming Arutha ‘Bane of Darkness’, the old man shuddered and his lips moved silently.

  The mood in the room became ominous as the monk spoke. Even the fire seemed to dim. Gardan found he was hugging himself as he sat.

  When the monk halted, Rogen continued to clutch his hand, not allowing the other to pull away. His head was raised, neck arched slightly backwards, as if he were listening to something distant. His lips worked without sound for a while, then slowly words were forming, though so quietly they were not distinguishable. All at once he spoke clearly, his voice firm. ‘There is a … presence … a being. I see a city, a mighty bastion of towers and walls. Upon its walls stand proud men willing to defend it to the end. Now … it’s a city under siege. I see it overwhelmed, with its towers ablaze … It’s a city-being murdered. A great savage host runs in its streets as it falls. Those who fight are sorely pressed and withdraw to a keep. Those who rape and loot … all are not human. I see those of the Dark Path and their goblin servants. They roam the streets, their weapons dripping blood. I see strange ladders being raised to storm the keep, and strange bridges of light. Now it burns, all burns; all is in flames … it is over.’

  There was a moment of silence, then Rogen continued. ‘I see a host, gathered on a plain, with strange banners flying. Black-armoured figures sit silently on horseback, showing twisted shapes on shields and tabards. Above them stands a moredhel…’ The old man’s eyes teared. ‘He is … beautiful … He … is evil. He wears the mark of the dragon. He stands upon a hill while below him armies march past singing battle songs. Great machines of war are pulled by miserable human slaves.’

  Again there was silence. Then: ‘I see another city. The image shifts and wavers, for its future is less certain. Its walls lie breached, and its streets are stained red. The sun hides its face behind grey clouds … and the city cries out in anguish. Men and women are chained in lines without end. They are … whipped by creatures who taunt and torment them. They are being herded to a great square, where they face their conqueror. A throne is erected atop a mound … a mound of bodies. Upon it sits … the beautiful one, the evil one. At his side stands another, a black robe hides his features. Behind them both is another something … I cannot see it, but it is real, it exists, it is … dark … It is insubstantial, without being, not truly there, but … it is also there. It touches the one on the throne.’ Rogen tightly clutched Dominic’s hands. ‘Wait …’ he said, then hesitated. His hands began to tremble, then in piteous tones, nearly a sob, he cried, ‘Oh gods of mercy! It can see me! It can see me!’ The old man’s lips trembled, while Gamina clutched at his shoulder, eyes wide, holding him closely, terror written upon her little face. Suddenly Rogen’s lips parted to emit a terrible groan, a sound of the purest agony and despair, and his body went rigid.