Children of Prophecy (4 page)

She walked out to meet the four men and the boy, a smile on her face. Coming to a stop in front of Car’raen’s horse, she curtsied. “Welcome home, Hawk Car’raen,” she greeted him with a broad smile. “We’ve prepared your rooms for you, and a small set of rooms near yours for young Tal.”

Tal jerked at her use of his name, but then realized who this motherly looking woman was. Car’raen had mentioned Shris’dari, a powerful Life Mage and Seer who ran the household. She’d probably been watching and listening to their conversation with her husband.

As he realized this, he suddenly found himself beginning to sway on his horse. He’d been riding for six days, and a boy raised in a monastery was hardly used to long journeys by horse.

His swaying attracted Shris’s attention. “Look at the poor boy, he’s exhausted,” she said, disapproval in her voice. It took Tal a moment to realize it was directed at Kove and Car for not taking better care, rather than at him. With a surprising quiet authority, she waved the men with her forward to help Car and the Rangers dismount, and came forward herself to hoist Tal from his horse.

He stiffened at her touch for a moment, then relaxed and allowed himself to be mothered.

Steel skittered on steel as the two longswords clashed. Car grunted as he deflected Kove’s attack to the side. Both men were clad in light tunics, without padding. They relied on each other’s skill to prevent injury, and on Shris’s healing talents to fix any injury that did occur.

Car turned from his deflection into an attack, slowly driving the Ranger backwards, step-by-step across the inner courtyard, sheltered from the elements on three sides by the house. His unrelenting attack didn’t slow or falter, until his foot slipped on a small pebble that had found its way onto the smooth stone.

As his foot slipped out from underneath him, his left hand dropped from the swordhilt to the ground, turning his fall into a roll that brought him out from under Kove’s descending blade, and up onto his feet, his sword swinging in an arc flashing for the Ranger’s neck. He stopped the blade just short of touching and stepped back.

Kove grimaced and nodded acknowledgment. “Good recovery, milord.”

Car nodded, sheathing the longsword as he glanced around the courtyard, which doubled as a training salle. His eye picked out a small figure, clad in a familiar plain black tunic. “Tal,” he called. “Good morning. Come, join us.”

The seven-year-old boy stepped out onto the yard silently, his face seeming focused. As he entered the light of the early morning sun, Car saw the small flame the boy had been focusing on vanish.

“Good morning master,” Tal finally said, nodding first to Car, then to Kove. “Good morning Ranger Kove’tar.”

Kove barked laughter. “Call me Kove, boy,” he ordered. “If that’s too much stress, just try Ranger or Swordmaster.”

Tal inclined his head slightly. “Your wish… Swordmaster.” He gestured towards the longswords. “What are you doing?”

“Sparring.” Car replied. “We’re both Eleventh Circle Masters of the
Tal’var
School of swordsmanship. Since we’re the only two people here of that rank, we spar with each other to hone our skills.” The Hawk considered his apprentice. “Pick up a blade and join us. This will be one of the things I will be teaching you. When I am busy, Kove will take over this part of your lessons.”

Tal paused, seeming to consider the rack of practice swords leaning against one wall of the courtyard, under the partial roof around the edge, then turned back to Car. “Why, master Car?” he asked.

“Why what?”

“Why learn the sword?” Tal looked away from Car. “I mean, what use is a sword when one has magic?”

Does the boy have
any
sense?
demanded one of the older – much older – Hawks from the amulet..

The boy is not alone in his sentiment, Eld One. Too many of today’s Battlemagi feel the same way about any weapons. He will not
, Car responded firmly to the dead man in his head. A millenium of time had wrought a great many changes, and too many of the Hawks locked away in the Amulet had difficulties understanding that. That lack of understanding could be a hassle for the man who had no choice but to
listen
to them.

“Many Battlemagi think that, my young apprentice. They disregard the sword and other methods of combat. Then they face some challenge that cannot be fought with magic, and are defeated.” Car paused, meeting and holding Tal’s eyes. “Also, you must always remember to use the least force necessary. Often you can solve problems with a sword without the massive destruction of Death magic. It is much easier to wound or disable with a sword than with a lightning bolt. Finally, to always use magic is the easy way, and like so many other easy ways in magic, will tend to corrupt, and lead one into Chaos.”

Tal nodded, appearing to take in the lesson. Car decided to accept the lesson as taught, and tossed a practice sword to the boy. He caught it with difficulty, since the sword wasn’t much shorter than he was.

The Hawk hid a small smile, and then began to teach, slowly and surely, as so many others had over the centuries, the ways of the sword.

Once they’d finished with the swords, Car had sent Tal off to find lunch. It took him a while to find the kitchen, tucked away in the eastern wing. The bustle and energy filling the room intimidated him at first, but he soon worked up the nerve to venture in and ask for food.

The head cook was a large, bustling, red-faced man with a gentle smile. When he saw Tal, his face lit up. “Ah, it’s the young new lord himself,” he exclaimed with a broad smile. “Looking for some lunch, are you?”

The man’s forceful cheeriness raised a small smile in return from Tal, who nodded in response to his question.

“A good healthy appetite, that’s what a boy your age needs. Come.” He led Tal over to a small table in the corner of the kitchen, with several stools nearby. “I’m Jor’helts, the cook in this place. Now you just hoist yourself up here,” Jor fit his actions to his words by picking Tal up bodily and putting him on a stool next to the counter, “and I’ll have you some food in a jiffy.”

Tal swung his legs in the space between his stool and the floor, and glanced around the kitchen. With a little effort, he identified the source of the business: the harvest was only just come in. What he wasn’t certain of was just what they were doing with the harvest.

When Jor returned with a loaf of bread and a bowl of meat stew, Tal met him with a smile. “Thank you, Jor.”

The cook beamed at him. “It’s a pleasure, Tal. Now eat up, you’ll need it for your lessons.”

Tal nodded, but before digging in, he gestured towards the people scrambling around the room. “Speaking of lessons, what are you doing at the moment?”

“We’re busy making preserves, taking the perishable parts of the harvest and preparing them in such a way that they’ll last longer,” the cook responded.

The apprentice smiled slightly. “How about after I finish this,” he gestured at the food in front of him, “you show me? I don’t have any specific lessons this afternoon.”

Jor beamed at him. “Gladly, young sir.”

That evening, Tal and Car continued Tal’s lessons in magic, concentrating on learning focus and methods of accessing power. After they’d finished, the two of them sat by the fire Tal had been using for experiments, gazing into it quietly.

“Master Car,” Tal said hesitantly.

“What is it?”

“What are the various Magics? I know I’m a Death Mage, but I’ve heard other Death Magi referred to as Battlemagi. You described Shris as a Healer and a Seer, what are those? I’m… not entirely clear on what these are.”

“Ah. One of the simple yet not-so-simple questions.” Tal heard amusement in Car’s voice again, and suppressed a spurt of irritation that his master found his ignorance amusing.

“Where to begin.” Car mused. “Well, to put it simply, there are three magics. You and I are Death Magi, Black Magi. Shris, and Head Ket’nir at your old Academy in Telnar, are Life Magi, White Magi.” Car paused, as if finished.

“That’s only two, master. Is the third Chaos? What is a Battlemage or a Healer?” Tal demanded, with all the insatiable curiosity of the young.

Car smiled. “The third is Gray Magic. There are no Gray Magi, for any kind of Mage can and will use Gray Magic. Chaos magic… is something else entirely.”

“But I thought that Chaos Magi were different?” Tal asked.

“It’s complicated to explain,” Car said softly. “But when you break it down to its most basic essence, there are only two types of Mage: Life and Death. Life Magi manipulate living things, and Death Magi manipulate energy in its purer forms.

“Those,” the old Mage continued, “you are born to. You were born a Death Mage. Shris’dari was born a Life Mage. It cannot be changed, and it limits what you can do for your entire existence.”

“Then what are Chaos Magi?” Tal persisted.

“The other name for a Chaos Mage, Tal, is a Fallen Mage,” Car told his student, “and it is really the more accurate. Every Mage can wield both Order and Chaos magic.
Every
Mage. But Chaos magic corrupts the flesh, the mind, and the soul.”

“You said I was almost using Chaos magic,” the youth observed.

“Indeed,” Car told him quietly.  “Chaos is the easier form to touch, to command.  In desperation, Order Magi have used Chaos energy to devastating effect.  Once, maybe even twice, this can be done without corruption, if your will is strong.  Beyond that, Chaos will claim you.  You will find yourself using it more and more often, because it is easier, more enjoyable.  It’s like a drug, and the more you use it, the more it owns you.

“Once Fallen, there is no turning back.  One is a Chaos Mage, the dark mirror of our own kind.  Life Magi Fall to become Swarmmasters, and our own kind Fall to become Warriors.”

Tal was silent for a long moment, and looked up to find Car eyeing him. Finally, the old teacher spoke again.

“As for Battlemagi, Healers, Seers and the rest,” he continued in a calmer, less sad, tone of voice, “they are different titles for the same thing. They’re subtypes, specific callings within the broader group. Once you have completed your Novitiate, you will be sworn in as a Battlemage, bound to protect those who cannot defend themselves and Judge those who defy the Law. Healing and scrying are talents possessed by Life Magi. Swarmmastery is the Chaos answer to Life Magi and War magic the Chaos answer to Battlemagi..” The Hawk shook his head kindly at Tal. “Does that answer your questions, Tal?”

Tal considered for a moment, some of the concepts spinning through his head. “Some, Master Car. But not all. I have more.”

Car raised a hand. “That is good, but keep them for another night. You have much to learn, and I have much to teach, but we have much time in which to do both. In time, I will answer most of your questions, one way or another.”

“Most? Why not all of them?” Tal immediately demanded.

Car smiled gently at Tal. “You will have questions I cannot answer, and must put to others. You will have questions no-one can answer except yourself. And,” his voice grew grim, “you will have questions it is better to not know the answer to.”

He reached out and tousled Tal’s hair. “Now go to bed, Novice. Your lessons will continue tomorrow.”

The next morning, Tal met Kove’tar’s sons. It wasn’t exactly a planned occurrence on anyone’s part. He was running towards the courtyard, late for the sword practice he’d promised to attend, when he slammed full-tilt into someone else.

Both he and his ‘encounter’ were thrown to the ground, and a third boy giggled aloud at the sight. Tal rose to his feet, furious, and turned to face a pair of blond boys, perhaps six years old.

“Who are you?” one of them asked. “I haven’t seen you before.” He grinned. “Liv here didn’t see you soon enough, obviously.”

“I am the Mage Novice Tal’raen!” Tal told him hotly.

“‘Raen?” the other boy, the one Tal had run into – Liv, the first one had called him – repeated. “Lord Car’raen has no children. If he did,
we’d
know,” he said assuredly.

“Maybe you weren’t important enough to be informed,” Tal replied cuttingly.

The first boy grinned again. “Father
did
tell us,” he said calmly, his hand suddenly resting on the Liv’s shoulder. “You just weren’t listening.”

“What? I don’t recall him saying that Car had picked up some stray who happened to be a Mage somewhere,” Liv replied.

Before Tal could say anything precipitous, the first boy calmly swept Liv’s feet out from under him, using the hand on his shoulder to push him down. He glanced down at his brother, sprawled on the floor.

He looked over at Tal and shrugged. “I’m Jan’tar,” he told him. “The oaf here is Liv’tar.”

“Kove’tar’s sons?” Tal queried, his temper slowly beginning to cool.

“Yes,” Jan replied shortly. He shrugged. “Don’t mind the brat, he’s younger by five minutes and apparently missed the brains.”

“Am
not
,” Liv replied coming back to his feet. “
You
’re younger by five minutes.”