Holtsclaw, page 13
part #3 of The Master Mage Chronicles Series
----- o0o -----
The turning was drawing to a close, Tamimi and Harve confirmed the coastal roads were now open. The few groups remaining had voluntarily abandoned their craft as word of the cleansing had spread. Marcus was summoned one last time by each peddler and the two stones were surrendered.
Harve and Tamimi had become hardened to the swift justice administered by Marcus. Stories would be shared. His reputation would spread and undoubtedly be exaggerated. Word had probably reached the King of Suerca, or soon would. Marcus hoped this would eventually work to his benefit. If not, a great good had been done, with peddlers, merchants, and villagers receiving the benefit.
Marcus had continued to visit Moriah each seventh-day, though porting had grown increasingly more taxing. Fortunately, one of the visits corresponded closely to a new-moon and he had been able to access a full flow. It was a night-passing and had not been a particularly strong one. He had stored much of its power in the master summoning stone.
Moriah, blades drawn, had finally confronted Mage Gideon somewhere near the middle of the turning. He had quickly backed down, denying any attempt to surveil her. Gladly, she had seen much less of him thereafter. Two seven-days before fourth turning, the King had called her to his private office and passed a small coin purse. “Tuition. But first, we speak of your relationship with the young mage, Marcus. I know there is a fondness. And I know there is a gift-connection between you. I do not know its nature. But this I tell you. It will come to naught. You are and will remain a princess of this Kingdom, with all its political obligations. Keep this in mind as your studies continue.” He dismissed her with no opportunity to discuss it further.
Marcus visited one last seventh-day. She was scheduled to leave in the morning with Corinne, expecting to arrive on fourth-day. She was unsure he would be able to come, but maintained her mid-night vigil nonetheless. When he did port into the office, she was pleasantly surprised.
Moriah: You will be late. I will be arriving in a three-day following tomorrow.
Marcus: I will be porting there tomorrow, waiting your arrival. As second-turns, we have an obligation to welcome the incoming firsts. They begin arriving the following fifth, I believe?
Moriah. Yes, as I understand as well. She gave him a tingling peck on the cheek. We will have to find time to get this gift difference resolved. I don’t want to be struck down by some accidental contact. Especially when we are demonstrating blade work. I assume we will continue teaching together.
Marcus ported back to the Holtsclaw stables without incident. Moriah returned four days later, accompanied by her friend Corinne.
CHAPTER
SEVEN
M arcus was in his attic room when he sensed Moriah’s arrival. It was a gentle filling of an emptiness he always felt in her absence. He reached out with mind-touch. You have arrived. How was the trip?
Moriah: Uneventful. Corinne had heard about our blade-dancing. It has been the talk of the town, apparently, not just the castle. I wanted to invite her, but father said ‘family only’.
Marcus: And your father?
Moriah: Yes, well, I tell you his exact words. ‘And I know there is a gift-connection between you. I do not know its nature. But this I tell you. It will come to naught. You are and will remain a princess of this Kingdom, with all its political obligations. Keep this in mind as your studies continue’. There was clear sadness in her thoughts.
Marcus: A walk around the grounds, after last-meal? The weather has been mild for a late third-turning.
They had been walking hand-in-hand, gift flowing constantly between them. “Corinne?” asked Marcus.
“Still waiting for Wilhelm. He was going to come early and have a few days to rest before classes. She has started to worry.”
“Well, he’s not late. Not yet. I hope there hasn’t been a problem. I know there was some difference of opinion within the family, if he should even be coming here at all. More a matter of coin than anything else.”
They continued to walk. Marcus mind-spoke: How much gift should we carry? I’ve decided it’s too difficult to keep so much hidden now that we have paired. The old writings are true. When two mages pair, their combined power is greater than the power they individually possessed. There is still much power stored in my master summoning stone. It’s safe there. I see no point in moving it back to us.
Moriah: Were you able to access the new-moon gift-flow at all when you were in Cardston?
Marcus had been able to explain the process to her in detail. Yes, several times in fact. Much of it was expended in my travels south. And that is something we need to discuss. I might have erred in what I did. Or at least, in the manner in which I did it.
Moriah: Is there enough time? We’re approaching the end of our walk.
Marcus: Perhaps tomorrow. We walk again, weather permitting?
----- o0o -----
Marcus had accumulated a considerable number of documents during his recent travels. In addition to the manuscripts he had acquired, Darius had summoned him once more, late in the turning, and presented him with yet another substantial stack. They were good, similar to the ones he had seized on the coast road. But nowhere near the age nor importance of the two bundles created by the long-passed mage Oliver Castor. Those he unwrapped carefully.
One of the complaints raised by Kentuck was the lack of study resources in Iber. Mage Castor lived over three-fist turns earlier and had access to various mainland libraries. Marcus turned the delicate parchment sheets over reverently, scanning as he did so. Mage Castor’s references to Kult were extensive. What was more amazing was his attempt to replicate, or estimate, their sounds, by referencing similar word- and letter-patterns in Rontal. Marcus looked forward to many thrilling evenings of revelation and understanding. For some reason he thought of Corinne and her endowment in scholar-gift. She should be helping with this! It was likely something she would greatly enjoy.
----- o0o -----
Marcus, Moriah and Corinne were finishing an early first-meal when they were approached by Master Aaronson and Lord-mage Petros. They pulled up chairs without waiting for an invitation. The Lord-mage spoke: “Marcus, Moriah, we have a request. Actually a proposal. We have had a resignation in our training staff and find ourselves short an instructor in blade. Would the two of you consider teaching our first-turn interns? As you did last turn? Master Aaronson says it would be pointless to have you continue as regular interns for another turn in blade, seeing you are already better than he. The rest of your classes would be unaffected, of course.”
“Would that include morning exercises as well?” asked Moriah.
“Uh, yes. It would.”
Marcus: What do you think? It could prove quite useful.
Moriah: I’m for it, if you are. It’s always more interesting to be a leader than a follower. “Okay, yes, we agree to do it.”
The Lord-mage looked to Marcus. “You agree as well? Isn’t it something you need to discuss?”
“She speaks for both of us. And as she said, we agree.”
“The first two seven-days are spent in conditioning. I would like to see you running with the interns. That’s all I ask,” said Master Aaronson.
Marcus: I suppose we should have expected that. All other second-turns will be running anyway. “Of course, Master Aaronson.”
“Come over to the Armory after you’ve finished your meal. I’ll introduce you to the master arms-man. He will need to know you are instructors rather than interns.”
Marcus: “We were just finishing, so we could come now. Corinne, do you want to come with us? You wouldn’t mind, Master Aaronson?”
Corinne shrugged and nodded.
“Of course not. Let’s go now, then.”
The three took their empty plates to the galley, returned, and departed.
The arms-master had watched Marcus and Moriah spar together many times. “Glad to meet you finally. So Aaronson here says he’s going to make you instructors? Maybe I can join your course? Everything but the running?” He laughed.
“Kensey, you old codger. You just like looking at the young girls. You were a master blade before I was born. Behave yourself.”
“How many first-turns will there be enrolling?” he asked.
“Three hand six by last count.” Master Aaronson turned to Marcus and Moriah. “We have exactly one-fist beds. We try not to fail anyone, so with no drop-outs we would have two-hands five in each class. But a few realize this just isn’t their future. Plus a few get sick or get called to royal duties. And a few fail to continue for lack of coin. So we expect to have a hand and one extra beds to fill this turn, maybe a few more if there are no-shows. Which happens from time to time. We always have a hand or more families waiting for the chance to get in that way. It’s always sad to see them go. But most reapply the next turn. If we know they were waiting and were denied, we try to seat them the next time around.” Master Aaronson departed, with a favorable comment and wave of his hand.
The master arms-man addressed himself to Moriah and Marcus. “As I said, good to finally meet you. Let me know when you need the training blades. We get a new batch made every turn.”
Marcus paused. “Actually, if they haven’t been made yet, we would like to speak to the carpenter who makes them. Most of the ones we had last turn were poorly balanced and hard to manage. And the grips were too large for our smaller interns. I hate to see blade training made any more difficult than necessary.”
“Well, stay around for a bit. He’s just starting now on the new blades. He’s a reasonable sort.”
The three stayed and met with the carpenter. To no surprise, it was Marcus’ old friend, Brenton. Once he understood where the balance point needed to be, he promised to create blades of the proper size, weight and balance.
----- o0o -----
There was still a two-day before the last of new interns were to arrive. Those coming early were being enrolled. Only interns were permitted to remain on campus. So those who accompanied, family or escorts, were forced to find accommodation in the village, if they wished to remain and visit. Many parents were keen to rekindle memories and prior friendships. For the interns, conditioning began a two-day after arrival. The penalty for early arrival was likely to be a few extra days of running and exercise.
Each new intern was assigned a higher-level intern as a mentor. Third- and fourth-turn interns pushed this responsibility down to the second-turns if possible. The mentor’s responsibilities included an orientation to the Abbey, and escorting a new arrival to the village to acquire proper wear. In addition to the sales of clothing and boots, the inns and stables were full of travelers. It was a welcome time for the village.
Marcus: Do you feel anything unusual. Anything odd?
Moriah: You mean a pulling sensation? As when we are balancing our gift power?
Marcus: Yes, exactly that. It has been there for several seven-days, but seems to have been growing day-by-day. It has become quite noticeable of late.
It was a fifth-day. The last day for enrollment was the sixth. Marcus awoke with an uncomfortable sensation of drawing power. From where he did not know. He reached out to Moriah. Last turn it would not have been possible over any distance. Now it was easily done. Do you….
Moriah: ...feel it? Yes. We need to go to first-meal and try to find where this is originating. I fear if we do not do something soon, we are going to cause a death.
Marcus thought about her words. Yes. And if they continued drawing power and it went so deep as to reach someone’s life-force, it would do just that.
They finished first-meal and moved to the Academy campus, waiting for any early-arriving first-turns. Those who came long distances tended to be either early or late.
An enclosed carriage approached, a horseman perched on the high driver’s seat. The surge of gift was palpable. The carriage drew to a halt and the door opened. A young woman stumbled out, falling limply to the ground. She tried to regain her feet but lacked the strength.
Marcus invoked tiemp. Is this conceivable? We are drawing her life force. That would only be possible if…
Moriah: ...if we had another compelled pairing. Impossible! What would be the odds of that? Can we speak to her without releasing time?
Marcus: We have no alternative but to try. The flow is so strong she will die within moments if we don’t find a way to make it stop.
Everything around them was frozen, unmoving. They made their way to the fallen young woman. Marcus did not want to touch her, even with time suspended. He knelt down and pulled her into the bubble of suspended time. “Can you hear me?”
A weak voice responded. “Yes. What is happening to me? Why am I feeling so poorly, so weak. It feels like I’m… dying. Please help me!”
Moriah: “We will. But first, you must answer a couple of questions. They will be odd ones, but you must try. Otherwise there’s nothing we can do for you. Do you understand?” She didn’t wait for an agreement. “First, what is your name and where are you from?”
“My name is Melania I’m from Sueca. What’s happening to me?”
Marcus: “Another question, Melania, albeit it a strange one. What was your birth date?”
Melania: “Birth date? What has that to do with anything?” Her voice was growing even weaker. It was difficult to hear what she said.
Moriah: “Please, Melania, trust us. It does. Your birth date?”
Melania: “Second day, first seven-day of the third turning.”
Moriah: “And the turn? How old are you? And where were you born?”
Melania. “A hand and six. The capital, at the castle. I chose to wait a turn before coming. Please, help me!”
Marcus: Fata help us. She is one of us! She has but one chance to live!
Moriah: A triple? Who would ever believe this? A triple! She spoke again to Melania. “Melania, there isn’t time to explain. Yes, you are dying and there is but one thing that will prevent it. Do you wish to live or die? If you choose to live, as I did, your life will be changed forever. You will be tied to the two of us in an unbreakable bond until the day you or we pass. It is not of our making or choice, but a consequence of your gift and ours demanding to make this bond. There isn’t time to explain it all. Right now your decision is a simple one. Will it be life or death?”
Melania: “I don’t understand. But I know I want to live.”
Marcus: “Then you must look at us and say the word ALPARE. It is pronounce all-PAR-ay. Speak it to us, as strongly as you are able.”
“All-PAR-ay.”
Marcus: “That is correct. In a moment we are going to grab you by the arms. You must immediately look at us and say ALPARE. We will do the same. You will only have a moment to do this, so do not hesitate. Are you ready?”
Marcus and Moriah held each other’s hand and took one of Melania’s. He released time and together they spoke the gift-power word of pairing. Gift had a certain amount of momentum, but within a few heart-beats its power began to flow back into Melania.
She quickly revived, a look of wonder in her eyes. “What is happening to me? It’s like I was in a dream, talking to you but not really. Everything, well, stopped! Who are you? They were still holding her hands. “And could you let me go? This, whatever it is that’s happening, hurts.”
Moriah spoke. “Melania of Suerca, we must hold on to you a few moments more. You will soon be better. Then we will explain as much as we can.”
A small crowd had gathered, including her driver. “What happened to the girl? She goin’ to be all right? I didn’t do nuthin’ to her, honest. Jus’ drove her all the way like I was paid tuh do. She been complainin’ ‘bout feeling poorly for the last two-day. But nuthin’ like this. Tell me, she gonna be all right?”
Moriah spoke: “She is going to be fine. Just a bit of weakness tied to her coming to Holtsclaw for the first time. Give us a few more moments with her and you can leave. Place her baggage here on the ground, if you would.”
The crowd began to disburse. Murmurs of ‘is it like this with other interns?’ ‘Is she going to be all right?’ were heard as they departed. Fortunately, it was still very early in the day and none of the Academy staff was yet present.
A brief time later Melania had regained her full strength. Or so she said. The flow had been intense. There were distinct pink hand-prints on her arms where she had been held. Marcus and Moriah helped her to her feet and they began walking towards the Academy entrance. Marcus carried her two meager bags. Melania had followed the advice of others and kept her personal effects to a minimum.
As in the turn before, Mage Arnold was at the front desk to greet them. “Hello Marcus, Moriah. Who do you have here?”
Melania answered for herself. “Melania Vonn. Suerca, sir.”
“Oh yes. Granddaughter of the Lord High-mage. Welcome to Holtsclaw.” He turned to Marcus and Melania. “Which of you will be her mentor?”
“Both, if that be acceptable,” said Moriah.
“Suit yourselves. Fine with me.” He turned to Melania. “I have you down as present. You’ll get your room assignment shortly.” He gave a practiced chuckle. “We do have to settle the tuition first, however. You have the coin?”
Melania untied a purse at her belt. She cast a guarded look at Marcus and Melania, reached within, and withdrew a smaller pouch. She opened it and wordlessly poured three crowns on the desk.
