Fire And Ice (Book 1) (69 page)

             
How was he going to defeat a powerful wizard?  Suddenly a lot of things made sense.   And he finally had his answer. He now knew why Elthzidor had tried to kill him, and why the supposed Nortia was so interested in him.  The Karands, the Northmen, it all made sense.  “How can I fight a wizard?  I have no power.”

             
“That is not exactly true.  I sense some power in you.”

             
Coran looked up into the wizard’s face hopefully.  “Will you help me use it?”              

             
“It is not that kind of power,” Tenobius said uncomfortably.  “Not exactly.”

             
“What do you mean?”  Coran asked, the hope leaching away.

             
“A person who might have potential in the power, will first experience an ability to sense what is around them without seeing it, smelling it, or hearing it.  Sometimes they will have to work at it in the beginning, but later it becomes so much a part of them that they do it without realizing it.” 

             
That sounded familiar.  “Gelarus told me that much.”

             
“Good.  Now next comes an ability to affect those things they sense around them.  They can control the air to move objects or draw heat from it for fire, or push something away,” Tenobius explained.  “The limit of what someone can do is only restricted by the amount of power they can effect at one time and by their knowledge, or lack there of.”

             
“So where do I fit into that explanation?”

             
“You are one of those who can sense what is around them, but not touch it enough to effect anything.  At least so far.  The ability can reveal itself later in some, but there is usually some sign of it by your age.”

             
“So I can sense things around me.  How does that help?”  Coran asked.  He thought he saw some ways, but he wanted the wizard’s opinion.

             
“For someone with your training, the ability to sense everything around you would enhance that training.”

             
“You mean as a warrior?”

             
“Exactly.”

             
Coran was silent for a moment as he remembered the fights he had been in.  “I felt a calm come over me.  When that happened it was like no one could touch me.”              

             
“You see?  That is your talent.”

             
“To kill people?”  Coran said harshly.

             
Tenobius looked at him thoughtfully.  “You can look at it that way if you choose, or you can think of it as defending people.  People who cannot defend themselves.”  After a moment the wizard stood.  “When we have a chance there is someone I would like you to meet.  Later though.” 

             
Coran nodded absently to the man as he left.  There was still some things that did not make sense, still questions he needed answered.  Nortia had told him that he would possess a great power one day.  She said that he could do great good or great evil with it.  In that dream with the two tunnels he thought he had been given a taste of that power as a reminder of her warning.  It was strange that Gelarus had said he should learn more about the power, but that was before he had left for Tyelin over two years ago.  Could he have been mistaken?  When Elthzidor had come into his mind, he said Coran had no real power, and Tenobius intimated as much too. 

             
He felt torn in a way.  On one side he wanted nothing to do with power, but on the other hand he wanted as much as possible if he was going to face Elthzidor.  That fact was something he did not want to be thinking about, not if he ever wanted to sleep again.

             
Instead of debating the issue inside of his head any longer he decide to go to the feast.  It would be a welcome distraction.

             
That night there was a great feast in the dining hall which was large enough to hold all.  With the number of people who had come for the meetings a large meal had already been planned, but under the circumstances it was being called a feast.  It was not the formal dining and dancing he associated with Midians, but was rather a meat tearing, back slapping, and overall boisterous  gathering of comrades.  That Coran was readily accepted into their joking and laughing company made him feel welcomed by a people he hardly knew, but now led.  He was starting to like these loud and formidable people he had somehow inherited.

             
They ate on benches by their tables that stood in lines across the hall as they consumed platters of beef, fowl and great quantities of ale, which Coran tried to keep in moderation.  He began to enjoy himself immensely.  His concentration had been on reaching Herrinhall, and persuading the North to fight.  Now that everything was being set in motion, - faster than he could have imagined- he only had to wait.  It seemed a long time since he was able to just relax and joke as if nothing important were happening.  He was sure that the ale was helping in that regard as well.  Of course he kept the revelation of his destiny in the very back of his mind.

             
He sat at the same table as the Kings, between Storvik, who seemed to be known by everyone, and Tenobius, who watched the wild display with amusement.

             
“What do you think?”  Storvick asked him with slightly glazed eyes.

             
“About what?”  Obviously he missed something that was said.

             
“Jarl is concerned about leading an army into Midia.  There were those raids into the boundary.  Won’t Northwatch think we are invading them?”

             
“Don’t worry about that,” Coran told him.

             
“But I heard that some guy’s niece was taken.  From what I heard a rogue band of Northmen were involved.  Shouldn’t we do something about that?”

             
“I already did.  She should be at Northwatch by now,” he replied simply.  Scanning the room he tried to pick out any who would be here to train with the power.  No one stood out to his eyes and he had to wonder.  Where were the wizards of Herrinhall?  So far he had only met Tenobius.  Was he the first and only wizard?              

             
“What did you say?”  Storvik asked.  “You found her?”

             
“Yes.  She was being held by someone named Gorod.”

             
“Gorod?  I should have guessed that he was behind it.  How did you get her away from him?  He has a bad reputation.”

             
“There was not much too it once he was dead.”  Coran shrugged.

             
Storvik was definitely surprised by the news.  “You killed Gorod?”

             
“Yes.  My friend was with me too.”

             
“Yes, but how many did he have with him?  He is supposed to have run with a nasty crowd.”

             
“I don’t know about who they were, it was pretty dark when we killed them.”

             
Storvik stood up and called in a loud voice that barely carried over the noise of the feast.  “Bail!”

             
The King of Dorne was down the table a ways.  He was clearly far along with drink.  “What is it!?” he shouted back.

             
“He killed Gorod!”  Storvik pointed down at Coran.

             
“Good for him!”  Bail replied, very pleased at hearing the news.  “Give him the reward in the morning!”

             
Storvik laughed and sat back down.

             
“Reward?”  Coran had to ask.

             
“A thousand in gold.”  He laughed again.  “You probably don’t need it though.”

             
“Why do you say that?”  Coran asked even though it was true.  Tyelin was well enough off that he would not want for necessities.

             
“You are going to marry a queen, right?”              

             
“Yes,” Coran nodded.

             
Storvik took another drink from his mug.  “That should be interesting,” he said as his words started to slur together.

             
“What should?”  Coran asked absently. 

             
“The Lord of the North and the Queen of Summerhall married.  That will be an interesting union.”

             
Coran stopped and stared at the red haired Northman who was already moving to refill his cup.  There was something about the word ‘union’ that made him think.  What was it?

              Coran stepped into the rooms that had been hurriedly readied for him to use.  They had not been used since the place was first constructed.  The bedroom contained a bed and nothing else.  The bed itself was impressive.  It was huge, with four solid posts at the corners and black silk sheets.  It did look inviting.

             
It had to be around midnight and the feast had given no sign of letting up.  Not used to the rowdy behavior he finally retreated to find his bed.  This was the room that had been originally set aside for Eryk.  He died before he could even see it and his wife stayed here briefly before she disappeared.  It was his now, or at least for the two nights he would be here before leaving for Nyess.

             
Off his main ante-chamber was a door to a narrow balcony that overlooked the city.  The breeze was cold being so high up so he went back in long enough to grab his cloak and wrap it around himself. 

             
The night was bright with a full moon and a multitude of stars.  More lights could be seen from the city below, evidence of the continuing party there as well.              

             
Being alone he couldn’t help but think of Katelyn.  Maybe there was a way to open his mind up to her if he could sense other things around him.  He had no idea what kind of limit there might be to such a thing.  If he just could find out if she was all right it would be enough.

             
He relaxed his mind like he had the other night.  Of course that had been a dream.  He tried it anyway and felt his mind flow once again.  Thinking of her and of Summerhall his focus drifted from the cold North and the snow covered fields.  His mind flew over a body of water and mountains with white peaks to a plain of winter dried grass.  An image came to him of a young woman with a serious expression on her pale, beautiful face.  A dark cloak was held about her tightly.  Her long hair glowed in the moonlight.  So surprised was he by the clarity of the vision that he almost lost the connection.

             
He tried to speak to her with his thoughts, to will the words to her.  If she heard she showed no reaction.  He concentrated harder, putting all of his feelings of love behind it.  The need to speak to her welled up within him. 
I love you.
  He thought. 
I am coming.

             
The effort was exhausting and he lost his concentration.  The image of Katelyn faded away and was replaced by the starry sky.  It was only his imagination.  He sighed heavily, took a long, last look at the night, and went back inside. 

              Katelyn stood on the balcony looking out at the night.  She should be in bed, but had awoken and was unable to go back to sleep.  It was cold, unusually so for the Plain, so she held the cloak around her tightly. 

             
A voice spoke and she jumped in surprise.  Spinning around she saw no one.  Listening hard she heard it again.  It was impossible, but she thought it sounded like Coran. 

               Naras listened to the noise coming from the outer room.  He leaned against the bars of the small square cell.  It had only a narrow cot for sleeping and two metal buckets, one that held water for drinking, and the other for when he needed to relieve himself.  Urik was in the next cell over, listening as well. 

             
He heard something scrape on the wood floor and then a strangled shout.  Silence reigned for a moment before the doorway was filled with an attractive form.  Naras felt like grinning.  The woman who entered from the outer room was beautiful.  Her hair was long and a dark brown.  Her body was thin, and full in all the right places.  She glanced at the locked door to his cell and it burst inward.  The same thing happened to Urik’s a second later.  A Maji.  Naras quickly restrained his leering thoughts.  He was fairly sure of her name.

             
Without a word they left the prison as quickly as they could.  They passed the corpse of the guard who had been on duty.  Naras avoided glancing at the ruined body as he headed for the door and to freedom.

             
Once outside, Naras turned to his rescuer.  “Now what?”