The Master's Chair (The Chronicles of Terah) (20 page)

“Then I’m going to have to find someone else?”

“Eventually, but not yet. You don’t have to formally declare a second until you have an heir. Then you have to register your second with the council. That way, if anything happens to you, there’s someone to hold the chair for a year to give your heir time to get ready to take over, unless your heir is thirty years old or older.”

“What if the heir is a child? What happens then?”

“The child has one year to learn how to use magic, or he or she will die at the end of that year.”

“What?! What do they do? Execute them?”

“No, of course not! They’re not barbarians,”
Xantha snorted.
“The child will almost certainly be challenged at the end of that year, and if he isn’t good enough, he’ll lose, and to lose a challenge is to die. Just another incentive to make sure you’re good enough, and careful enough, to hang around until your children grow up. Your second is supposed to help out on that score, too. One of a second’s duties is to watch the sorcerer’s back.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get married. I don’t want to subject any child of mine to all of this.”

“Don’t even start to think that way. As Master Sorcerer, you’re responsible to all of Terah, not just one child. You have to make sure that the line of succession is clear and that your powerful strain of magic survives.”
Xantha paused as he glanced around the meadow, searching for another tasty spot.
“Actually, you’ll need several children, just to be on the safe side. Badec took quite a chance, never marrying again and having more children. You should not do the same. You cannot leave the highest chair on the council up for grabs. But foster them well, or they’ll fight amongst themselves to inherit the Master’s Chair.”

“Why? You mean someone might actually want all of this?”

“You are so naïve. You have no idea how much power you’ll have, and most humans will do anything to get power.”

“From what I’ve seen, with power comes responsibility, and the more the power, the more the responsibility. Who wants it?”

“I’m afraid you may find out all too soon just how many others do want it.”
Xantha turned his head towards Kevin and took a good long look at him.
“At least you see the drawbacks. Most humans are hypnotized by the power.”

“Is my father one of those?”

“No, he’s more like you. He never really wanted it, but he knew it was his destiny, so he accepted it, same as you will.”

Xantha found a new spot and grazed some more while Kevin thought about the future. He felt like he couldn’t get a clear grasp of what his life would be like in a month, in a year, or in ten years, should he live that long. For the first time in his life, things were not neatly mapped out.

Finally he said, “I have no idea what I’m heading into. Even with everything you and Kalen have said, I don’t know.”

“And you won’t, not for a while. Sometimes being a sorcerer is really fun, and sometimes your magic will help people, and sometimes it will protect them, but sometimes it won’t be enough. Sometimes bad things will happen, no matter how good or how careful you are. It’s just the way it is. You’re going to have to accept that, and you need to start now.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve got to stop feeling responsible for everybody else. Pallor was the one who assembled the team. You didn’t force them to come here. You didn’t put them in danger. You even tried to give them a way out by refusing to go along with all of this.”

“A lot of good it did,” Kevin mumbled. Then he said, “Xantha, I don’t think they realize what Kalen is saying. They could all die. I figure I’m dead regardless, but they don’t have to be involved. Or at least they didn’t at that point.”

“Well, first of all, I don’t figure you’re dead regardless, and I wish you would try to have a little faith in us, and a lot of faith in Glendymere. And as far as the others are concerned, they feel like they’re doing something important. That’s why they’re all working so hard. They have a reason to get up every morning, and that reason is a lot more important to them than anything they had back on Earth. They’re happy right now, and I’m not picking up any regrets. You have nothing to feel guilty about. Some of them may die, but they think it’s worth the risk. When you take that chair, they will have done their part in averting a disaster, and no one can ever take that away from them. That’s the way they see it.”

Xantha walked over to the far side of the field and continued to graze. Kevin felt a little better at first; then a new responsibility started to sink in. If they were willing to risk their lives to get him to his tutor and then to Camden to take the Master’s Chair, he owed it to them to be good enough to hold it.

 “Now you’re getting it,”
Xantha chimed into his thoughts.
“You were feeling guilty because you couldn’t use those weapons or sing. That’s nothing. Your responsibility lies in a totally different direction. You have to become the most powerful human sorcerer on Terah. That needs to be your focus.”

After Xantha had left Kevin to his thoughts for a while, he added,
“And you do have to do one other thing.”

“What’s that?” Kevin asked.

“Produce heirs! Lots of them! And soon!”

“Not until all of this is settled.”

“Never too soon to start looking for a mate. Want me to help?”

“No, I do not! I’ll find my own ‘mate’, thank you. Just not yet. There will be time enough for that later.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Well, I’ll just keep reminding you in case you forget.”

“Are you ready to go back?”

“Yes, I guess so. It’s about time for Duane to feed the horses. Maybe he has some fresh oats.”
Xantha knelt for Kevin to mount. They he stood up and said,
“Hang on,”
as he stretched his wings and took off.

Xantha and Kevin landed at Kalen’s in time for lunch. That afternoon Kevin participated in the training exercises, but it was obvious to everyone that his mind was elsewhere. During dinner that night, he asked Kalen how long he thought the journey to Glendymere’s home would take.

Kalen told them that it was close to eleven hundred miles, so his best guess was about seven weeks for the trip. Then he told them that they would need to allow about eight weeks for the trip to Camden, and that they would need to arrive there at least two weeks before the April council meeting next spring to give Myron time to prepare for it.

“Then that means that we have to leave Glendymere’s by the middle of January,” Steve said, “and since we probably won’t get there until the beginning of June, that leaves less than eight months for Kevin to work with Glendymere. Right?”

“That’s about right,” Kalen agreed.

“Okay. So I’ll have about eight months to become strong enough to defend myself against sorcerers who have had years of experience. Is this normal?” Kevin asked. “How long is someone usually a student or an apprentice? How long do sorcerers usually practice their skills before they fight? And if I get challenged, do I have to fight?”

“Yes. That’s one of the hazards of being on the council. Other sorcerers can refuse a challenge, but not one who has a seat on the council. And you will be challenged, make no mistake about that. Maybe not immediately, but it will happen,” Kalen answered as he stood up to begin clearing the table.

“You sort of skipped over a couple of his questions, didn’t you?” Darrell asked. “I’d like to hear the answers. How long do sorcerers normally train before they consider fighting to the death?”

“Well, it varies. Some apprentices have more talent and intelligence than others. There’s no one easy answer,” Kalen hedged.

“Quit stalling! We owe them the truth,”
Xantha interjected.

Kalen frowned and then cleared his throat. “Most sorcerers apprentice with an experienced sorcerer for ten to twenty years before they go out on their own. Then they usually practice for another five years or so before they consider challenging another sorcerer.” Kalen did not look at anyone as he answered. He directed his attention to stacking dishes.

“Wait a minute! That’s a minimum of fifteen years before they face off. And Kevin has eight months? That’s suicide! Or more accurately, murder!” Chris yelled. His face had gone beet red.

Kalen glanced around the table as anger rumbled through the group. “No! Wait! Chris, listen to me! Myron is not a typical sorcerer! What normally happens does not apply to him.” Kalen paused a second, hoping things would calm down a little, but instead of calming down, everyone seemed to be getting angrier. Even Joan was looking at him with daggers in her eyes.

“Most sorcerers only have a small store of magical energy inside,” Kalen explained. “They have to supplement their natural magic by gathering it from the flow of magical energy around Terah and storing it inside their bodies, and every time they use any of the magic that they’ve stored, they have to replace it. That’s a tough thing to do, and takes a long time to master. Myron won’t have to gather magic, it’s already there, waiting to be used, an unending supply, right at his fingertips! I know you don’t understand what I’m talking about, but it’s almost like he has an unfair advantage to start with because he’s part elf. And he won’t really be an apprentice either. Most sorcerers have to act as a servant to their teacher and learn little bits and pieces as they go along. Myron will be a student with a tutor dedicated to teaching him. That’s another big plus!”

For once, Kevin was the calm one, although his face had gone a couple of shades whiter than normal. He nodded to Kalen and quietly said, “If eight months is all the time I have, then eight months will have to be enough. Now, there’s something else that I want to bring up.” Kevin paused for just a moment. “I’m no good with any of the weapons or with hand-to-hand fighting. I know it and all of you know it. This afternoon I started thinking about just how much we do not know about this place, the customs of the people, how they live, their laws, their beliefs, and in less than two weeks we’re going to be trying to pass ourselves off as natives. I think my days would be better spent finding out all I can about Terah before one of us does something to cause people to start wondering where we’re from, or one of us breaks a law, or even worse, a taboo. Xantha knows all of this and he can explain some of it to me over the next two weeks.”

“That’s a good idea,” Steve said.

Kalen nodded eagerly. “I think that can be arranged. If Xantha agrees, I see no reason why you can’t begin tomorrow.” Relief was written all over his face.

“Xantha agrees,”
Xantha said to Kevin privately.

“I sort of thought you would,”
Kevin answered mentally.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Kevin said as they were all standing up, “I want all of you to call me Kevin. I don’t have anything against the name Myron, and I’ll be perfectly willing to answer to Myron in a year, but if there are assassins and sorcerers out there searching all over this world for ‘Myron’, I want to be ‘Kevin’.”

After everyone else had left the dining room to work on the minstrel act, Kalen finished stacking the dishes and carried them out to the kitchen. Duane came through the back door as Kalen was putting them in the sink.

“Xantha told me about the dinner conversation tonight,” Duane said. “I asked him if he put those thoughts in Kevin’s head. He said he didn’t.”

“I wondered. I was afraid he’d back out when he found out how long most sorcerers train, and even though I could tell it scared him, he took the news pretty well.” Kalen added hot water from the kettle on the stove to the dishes in the sink. “The suggestions he made were pretty good, too.”

“At least now we can stop worrying about accidentally killing him while we try to teach him to defend himself!” Duane chuckled as he picked up a dishtowel and began drying the dishes as Kalen washed them.

~ ~ ~ ~

Later that evening, Duane and Kalen sat down at the kitchen table to outline a new training schedule. The target date for the group to leave for Glendymere’s was the twelfth of April, and they figured that the eleventh would be spent packing. That left only seven more days for practice. They wanted the team to spend that time concentrating on building its strengths.

While they were working, Drusilla came in and sat down at the table. She told Kalen that she felt that she had left the chapel in the hands of her aide for about as long as she could and that she really needed to get back to Drisden. “I’ve told Theresa that I’d like for her to go with me. There are a lot of herbs that do not grow around here, especially this time of year. I have everything she’ll need in my workroom, but we’ll need some time to go over their uses and preparation.”

“I understand, but I really don’t want to break up the group, Dru. What about the minstrel act? Theresa will miss a lot of practices if she leaves now,” Kalen argued.

“Kalen, you know that she can pick that up easily enough, and she already spends her days with me,” Drusilla persisted.

“Well,” Kalen said hesitantly, “I guess it’ll be all right.”

“Can we take the wagon that she’s going to drive with us so we can get the herbs loaded?”

Kalen nodded.

“Fine. Then we’ll plan to leave right after breakfast tomorrow morning. I told Theresa to pack her things tonight,” Drusilla said as she stood up to go.

After Drusilla left the dining room, Duane asked, “What would she have done if you had really been against Theresa going to Drisden?”

“They would have gone anyway,” Kalen said with a shrug. “I’ve never won an argument with that woman.” Then he stood up. “The extra food I bought for them to take with them is in the pantry, and we need to pack their sleeping tarps and bedrolls, too. Come on. Let’s go get the wagon loaded.”

Chapter 15

Palladin Arrives

First thing the next morning, Duane checked the load in Theresa’s wagon, hitched the horses, and parked it next to the barn. The wagon was a covered wagon just like the ones that the American pioneers used when they traveled west in wagon trains. Canvas flaps served as doors at the front and back, and storage compartments were located inside the wagon along both sides and under the driver’s seat. All of the cooking utensils, food, sleeping tarps, bedrolls, and herbs were going to be stored in Theresa’s wagon. Several days earlier, the women had gone through Kalen’s kitchen cabinets and appropriated everything that they thought the group might need.

After breakfast, they all gathered around the wagon to wish Theresa and Drusilla a safe journey. As soon as the two women drove out of sight, Kevin turned towards Kalen and asked, “Do you need me for anything else?”

“No, not really. We’re going to go over the new training schedule now, but that doesn’t involve you.”

“Then I’m going to find Xantha. See you tonight,” Kevin said as he turned towards the stable.

~ ~ ~ ~

At dinner that evening, Chris asked Kevin what Xantha had told him about Terah that day.

“He just talked about the towns and stuff, nothing really critical,” Kevin said.

“Well? You need to fill us in,” Karl said.

Everyone nodded, so Kevin said, “Okay, but when you get bored, just remember, you asked. Most of the towns have around a couple of hundred people, if you count the outlying farms. There’s usually a tavern with a few rooms for rent upstairs, a dry goods store, a farmers market, and a stable. The stable master often doubles as the town blacksmith. If the town is large enough, there might be a Chapel of Light, the closest thing they have to a hospital.”

“What do the people in the towns that don’t have a Chapel of Light do for medical care?” Darrell asked. “Or does every town have a local sister?”

Kevin shook his head. “No, there aren’t that many sisters. Some of the sisters travel around with herbs and hold healing clinics whenever they’re asked to, but most of the sisters live at chapels. A lot of the smaller towns don’t have regular access to a sister.”

“I imagine it’s the same as it is in a lot of rural places on Earth. People have the basic medicines and treat themselves, only here, they’d have herbs,” Joan said and glanced towards Kalen to see if she was right. He nodded.

 “Xantha also said that there are a lot of villages that are too small to be called towns. They usually have a tavern and maybe a small dry goods store, but that’s about it. Most of the time, one of the local men has a barn large enough to board a couple of extra horses or store a wagon if someone traveling through really needs to stay overnight,” Kevin continued. “And, on the other end of the scale, there are some fairly large towns, but they’re rare. There might be a couple of inns, several taverns, a couple of dry goods stores, a cobbler’s shop, a saw mill, a grist mill, a large stable with a separate smithy, a wagon yard, and probably a good size Chapel of Light, often with more than one sister in residence. A few large towns along rivers or on natural harbors might even have boatyards, but there again, those are pretty rare.”

“Who’s in charge?” Steve asked. “Is there a sheriff or something?”

“Not exactly,” Kevin answered. “I got the feeling that the army doubles as a police force. But each town has a director, sort of like our mayors. Then each district, which is sort of like our state, has a minister, and the province, like our country, has a governor for civil affairs.”

“What do they use for money here?” Chris asked.

“There are several different types of coins, but the value of the coins varies from town to town, and often from merchant to merchant. Most people prefer to barter for what they want.”

Kalen chuckled and said, “That’s putting it mildly. Haggling over barters is serious business here. A good haggler is one of the most respected men in town, but no one wants to do business with him. You know you’re going to get taken before you even start. One thing you need to remember when you leave here though is never accept the first price offered for anything. Nothing would make people suspicious any faster than that.”

“Aren’t most people pretty much self-sufficient?” Steve asked.

Kevin nodded. “People make their own furniture, do their own repairs, make their own clothes, can their own vegetables, churn their own butter, things like that.”

“What about the houses? Does each family make its own house, too?” Darrell asked.

“No, from what Xantha said, all the men in the community help each other when it comes to the big stuff, like raising a house or a barn,” Kevin said.           

“Do they have running water?” Chris asked.

“Yes and no. Most of the kitchens have a water pump, but that’s it. No other running water,” Kevin said. “They get hot water by heating it on a wood stove, which is used for heating as well as cooking.”

“They don’t have electricity, so I’m assuming they use glowstones for light, right?” Darrell asked.

Kevin nodded.

“No electricity means no refrigerators, no freezers, and no microwaves, doesn’t it?” Chris asked. “That’s depressing.”

“Sorry, Chris,” Kevin said with a grin. “Well, that’s about all we talked about today.”

“Then let’s get the table cleared and get to work,” Joan said. “I’d like to run through all of our songs tonight. We haven’t done that yet.”

“What about Theresa’s part?” Chris asked.

“I’ll take it for now,” Joan said. “Come on, let’s get moving.”

Since Kevin couldn’t sing, he became the stage manager, handing them instruments when they were needed and setting them aside when they weren’t. In addition to the fiddle, flutes, drums, bongos and cymbal, they had added a triangle, sticks, a couple of bells, and even maracas. The guitar still wasn’t quite right, but they were getting close.

The next couple of days passed without any interruption to the new routine, but on the third day, Palladin arrived. They heard him long before he reached the house. His voice bellowed out of the woods as he commiserated with his horses over the heavy load and the poor road, and berated Kalen for not taking better care of it. When he reached the house, the Tellurians were surprised to see that he was even shorter than Kalen. In fact, he looked like a shrunken version of Kalen, except that his beard and hair were a bit longer and much grayer. He wore a dark green tunic with black leggings, boots, and heavy leather gloves, and there was a large ax anchored to his chest by thick leather straps that crisscrossed his chest. Attached to his belt on his left side was a long sheath that held a sword. The sword was angled so that its tip swung behind him, and even though it looked almost as long as Palladin was tall, he had no trouble moving with it fastened to his side. All in all, he looked ferocious, but his twinkling eyes and lop-sided grin gave away his good nature as he approached Kalen and grasped him in a bear hug.

“Well there, Kalen. How are you getting along with all these guests? Are they driving you mad yet?” Palladin asked in a whisper that could have been heard on the other side of the yard.

“No, not yet. Things have been going just fine. Here, let me introduce you to the Tellurians, our minstrels,” Kalen said as he gestured for them to come over. “One of our ladies turned out to be a healer, so she’s in Drisden with Drusilla right now. They’ll pick her up on the way down to Glendymere’s. And Myron, Badec’s son, is off with Xantha. He’ll be back this evening. Oh, he’s asked us all to use his other name, Kevin.” Then Kalen introduced the rest of the Tellurians to Palladin.

Palladin shook hands with everyone and then he pulled an eight-pointed shuriken out of a large pocket on the front of his tunic. “And who did I make these for?”

“I asked for those,” Darrell said. “May I see it?” When Palladin handed it to him, he held it in his hand and juggled it a bit to test the balance as he walked towards the target he had been using with the knives. He stopped about fifty feet from the target, set his stance, swung his arm like a backhand in tennis, and flicked his wrist as he released the shuriken. One of the eight blades hit the middle of the bull’s eye, and the shuriken sliced into the target. Darrell retrieved it and handed it back to Palladin with a smile. “Thanks. These will work just fine.”

Palladin hadn’t realized that he had been holding his breath until he started to speak. He frowned, shook his head, and said, “I had a feeling that I was making some new kind of weapon. I don’t know if I should be pleased or worried.”

“Be pleased,” Kalen answered. “Darrell’s on our side.” Then he put his arm around Palladin’s shoulder and turned him towards the house. “It’s just about time for lunch. Let’s eat now and unload your wagon later.”

Palladin made lunch a boisterous and jovial affair and it lasted twice as long as normal. Afterwards, they all went outside to his wagon. It looked like the ones the traveling snake oil salesmen used in the days of the Wild West, an enclosed wooden box with the driver’s seat mounted on the front.

He opened the back door and began removing a large crate from the interior. Darrell stepped up to give him a hand, but Palladin smiled and said, “Thanks for the offer, but you’d better let me get this. We don’t want any of you to get hurt.” Palladin picked up the crate and carried it over to the exercise yard. He motioned for the others to join him.

Kalen stepped over to walk beside Darrell. “Remember, things are not always as they seem,” he said quietly. “The weakest dwarf is stronger than the strongest human and mountain dwarves are the strongest of the dwarves. Never let a dwarf hand you anything unless you know what it is. Have him set it on the ground and check it out yourself before you try to lift it.” Then Kalen added with a chuckle, “But if a wagon wheel comes off and there’s a dwarf around, ask him to hold up the wagon while you replace the wheel. It would be child’s play to him, and you won’t even have to unload.”

Darrell nodded. “I’ll remember that. You aren’t planning to find a dwarf to go with us just in case we get stuck in the mud, or drop a wheel in a ditch, are you?”

“No, sorry,” Kalen answered. “In general, dwarves and humans do not travel together well. Humans tire too quickly and dwarves are always in a hurry.”

By the time they reached the exercise yard, Palladin had removed the top of the crate. There were at least twenty-five swords in there. Palladin, Kalen, and Duane began unloading the crate, drawing the swords out of their scabbards and laying each sword on top of its scabbard on the ground.

A few of the swords were fairly short, only about two feet long, while others were nearly four feet long with two-handed grips. There were swords as narrow as rapiers, and there were swords with blades three or four inches wide. Some were curved and some were straight as an arrow, but all of the cutting edges had been honed to razor sharpness.

Some of the handles were made of hardwood and some were metal. Some of them had finger grooves, some were covered with spun cord, and a few were covered in leather. Most of the handles had round or oval pommels on top, some engraved and some plain.

The cross guards separating the blade from the handle varied as much as the handles. Some were short, extending about half an inch on each side of the blade, but most extended three or four inches. Some curved towards the blade, some curved towards the handle, and a few were relatively straight.

As the humans wandered around looking at the swords and admiring the craftsmanship, Palladin urged them to pick them up and try them out. At first they hesitated, thinking that he was like a traveling peddler, trying to sell his goods, but then Kalen told them that Palladin had brought the swords specifically so that each of them could choose one.

“Well, it won’t be completely up to you, you know,” Palladin said. “The sword will choose you as much as you will choose the sword. It has to be mutual, or it won’t work well for you.”

“What do you mean, the sword will choose us?” Joan asked.

“You’ll see. Walk around, pick them up one at a time, and hold them in your hands. If it’s for you, you’ll know it,” Palladin assured them.

Chris and Darrell exchanged skeptical looks, but each reached for a sword to test out and soon the others followed suit. Palladin walked among them, encouraging them. He told them to feel the perfect balance between the blade and the handle, to try a fighting stance, and to take a couple of jabs with the swords. As soon as one of them put a sword down, Palladin was right there to point out another.

After a few minutes, Joan gasped, “It’s vibrating! Palladin, what’s going on?!” Joan had one of the shortest swords in her hand. The blade was only about eighteen inches long.

Palladin nodded and said, “Like I said, you’ll know when a sword chooses you. And that’s a fine choice for a woman. It’s lightweight, less than two pounds, and it’s a defensive weapon. No one will think that you’re looking for a fight with that sword by your side, but it also serves notice that you won’t back down either. Excellent choice!”

As she held the sword in her hands, she felt strangely attracted to it. She looked it over carefully, tracing the ivy design that had been etched in the cross guard with her finger and then polishing the pommel with its delicate etching of an eagle in flight. Then she turned back towards Palladin and smiled.

“Try the scabbard. It should fit nicely on your belt. See how it feels.”

Once the scabbard was on her belt and her belt was fastened back around her waist, Joan placed the sword carefully in the scabbard.

“Now, draw your sword.”

When Joan reached for her sword, it seemed to leap clear of the scabbard and into her hand of its own volition.

“Yes, that sword will suit you nicely,” Palladin said with a smile. Then he looked around at the others. “Has anyone else found a sword yet?”

After watching how the sword had reacted to Joan’s touch, everyone else began picking up the swords with a new enthusiasm. Steve was the next to find his. It was a thin sword with a blade about two feet long and a medium sized handle that would feel comfortable with either a one-handed or a two-handed grip. The cross guard was straight and narrow, and the tip of his handle was not a pommel as much as a small cap.