Magician (103 page)

He then walked past Milamber and his
family. Once he was out of sight, Milamber activated the device.

The soldier jumped. One moment he had
been sitting under a tree, shaded from the setting sun’s heat,
then the next moment a magician with a woman and child suddenly
appeared before him. By the time he was on his feet, they were moving
toward the rift machine, several hundred yards away. When they
reached the machine, a platform with tall poles rising up on either
side of it, between which a glimmering “nothingness”
could be seen, an officer who was in charge of the troops moving
through snapped to attention.

“Get these men back from the
platform.”

“Your will, Great One.” He
barked orders, and the men fell back. Milamber took Katala by the
hand and led her through the rift.

One step, a moment of disorientation,
and they were standing in the middle of the Tsurani camp in the
valley in the Grey Towers. It was night, and campfires burned
brightly. Several officers were startled at the unusual arrival, but
stepped out of their way.

Milamber said, “Have you captured
horses?”

One of the officers nodded dumbly.

“Bring two, at once. Saddled.”

“Your will, Great One,”
said the man, and rushed off. Soon a soldier brought two horses
toward him. When the soldier came close, Milamber could see it was
Hokanu. The younger Shinzawai son looked quickly about as he handed
the reins to Milamber. “Great One, we have just received word
something terrible has occurred at the Imperial Games, though the
reports are vague. I suspect your sudden appearance here has
something to do with those reports. You must be away quickly, for
these are the Warlord’s men in camp, and should they arrive at
the same conclusion, there is no telling what they might risk.”

Milamber held William while Katala
mounted with Hokanu’s aid. He handed their son up to her and
mounted his own steed. “Hokanu, I have just seen your father.
Go to him; he has need of you.”

“I will return to my father’s
estate, Great One.” The young Tsurani hesitated, then added,
“Should you see my brother, tell him I live, for he does not
know.”

Milamber said he would, then turned to
Katala and took the reins of her horse. “Hold to the saddle
horn, beloved. I will carry William.”

Without another word they rode out of
camp. Several times guards started to challenge them, but the sight
of the black robe stopped them. They rode for hours in the moonlight.
Milamber could hear the shouts of soldiers as he led his family to
safety.

Katala bore up under it all like the
warriors she was descended from, and Milamber marveled at her. She
had never sat a horse before, but she made no complaint. To be taken
from her home and whisked away to a strange, dark world, where she
knew no one, must be a frightening experience. She revealed a tough
fiber to her character he had only guessed at before.

After the seemingly endless ride, a
voice sounded from out of the darkness. Dim shadowy figures could be
seen moving among the trees. “Halt! Who rides this night?”
The voice was speaking the King’s Tongue. The three riders
halted, and the man in front, with relief in his voice, shouted, “Pug
of Crydee!”

K
ulgan
sat quietly.

It was a reunion tempered with sadness.
Pug stood near Lord Bornc’s bed, openly showing his grief as
the dying Duke smiled wanly up at him. Lyam, Brucal, and Meecham
waited a short way off, speaking softly, and Katala distracted
William while the Duke and Pug spoke.

Bornc’s voice came softly, weak
from his illness, and his face contorted with pain as he struggled
for breath. “I am glad to see you . . . returned to us, Pug.
And doubly glad to see your wife and child.” He coughed, and a
foam appeared at the corner of his mouth, flecked with blood.

Katala’s eyes were tearing, for
the open affection her husband held for this man touched her. Borric
motioned toward Kulgan, and the stout magician came to stand next to
his former pupil. “Yes, Your Grace.”

Borric whispered, and Kulgan turned to
Meecham “Will you see Katala and the boy to our tent? Laurie
and Kasumi are waiting there.”

Katala threw Pug a questioning look,
and he nodded Meecham had already picked up the boy, who regarded him
with some skepticism. When they had left, Borric struggled to sit
higher, and Kulgan helped him, placing pillows behind his back. The
Duke coughed loudly and long, his eyes clenched tightly shut from
pain.

When at last he could breathe again, he
sighed, then spoke slowly.

“Pug, do you remember when I
rewarded you for saving Carline from the trolls?” Pug nodded,
afraid to speak for the emotions he felt. Borric continued, “Do
you remember my promise of another gift?” Again Pug nodded.
“Would that Tully were here to give it to you now, but I will
tell you in brief. I have long thought the Kingdom wastes one of its
greatest resources by regarding magicians as outcasts and beggars.
Kulgan’s faithful service over the years has shown me I was
right. Now you return, and though I understand only a little of what
you’ve told, I can see you have become a master of your arts.
It was my hope you would, for I have had a vision.

“I had left a sum of gold in
trust for you, against the day you became a master magician. With it,
I would like you and Kulgan, and other magicians, to establish a
center for learning, where all may come and share. Tully will give
you the documents with my instructions, explaining in detail my
design. But for now I can only ask: Will you accept this charge? Will
you build an academy for the study of magic and other knowledge?”

Pug nodded, tears in his eyes. Kulgan
stood agape, not trusting what he had heard His fondest wish, his
life’s ambition, shared with the Duke in the idle hours of
speaking of dreams over cups of wine, was now granted.

Borric began to cough again, then when
the fit passed, said, “I hold title to an island, in the heart
of the Great Star Lake, near Shamata. When this war is at last done,
go there and build your academy Perhaps someday it will be the
greatest center for learning in the Kingdom.”

Again the Duke was racked by coughing,
the sound more terrible than before. He gasped after the attack,
barely able to talk. He motioned for Lyam to come close, pointed to
Pug, and said, “Tell him,” then fell back upon his
pillows.

Lyam swallowed hard, fighting back the
tears, and spoke to Pug. “When you were taken by the Tsurani,
Father wished for some memorial in remembrance. He considered what
would be proper, for you had shown bravery on three occasions, twice
saving Kulgan’s life in addition to my sister’s. He
judged the only thing you lacked was a name, for none knew your
parentage. So he ordered a document drawn up and sent to the Royal
Archives, inscribing your name on the rolls of the family conDoin,
adopting you into our house.” Lyam forced a smile. “I
only wish times were gladder to share such news with you.”

Overcome with emotion, Pug sank to his
knees at the Duke’s side. He took the Duke’s hand and
kissed his signet, unable to speak. Softly Borric said, “I
could be no more proud of you than were you my own son.” He
gasped for breath. “Bear our name with honor.”

Pug squeezed the once powerful hand,
now weak and limp. Bornc’s eyes began to close, and he
struggled for breath. Pug released his hand, and the Duke motioned
for all to come closer. Even old Brucal was red-eyed as they waited
for the Duke’s life to slip away.

To Brucal he whispered, “You are
witness, old companion.”

The Duke of Yabon raised an eyebrow and
looked questioningly toward Kulgan. “What does he mean?”

Kulgan said, “He wishes you to
witness his dying declaration. It is his right.”

Borric looked at Kulgan and said, “Care
for all my sons, old friend. Let the truth be known.”

Lyam said to Kulgan, “Why does he
say ‘all my sons’? What truth?”

Kulgan stared at Borric, who nodded
weakly. The magician’s words came quietly. “Your father
acknowledges his eldest son, Martin.”

Lyam’s eyes grew wide. “Martin?”

Borric’s arm shot out in a sudden
surge of strength, catching at Lyam’s sleeve. He pulled Lyam to
him and whispered, “Martin is your brother. I have wronged him,
Lyam. He is a good man, and well do I love him.” To Brucal he
croaked a single word, “Witness!”

Brucal nodded. With tears streaming
down into his white moustache, he swore, “So do I, Brucal, Duke
of Yabon, bear witness.”

Suddenly Borric’s eyes went
blank. His death rattle sounded deep in his chest, and he lay still.

Lyam fell to his knees and wept, and
the others also let their grief come unrestrained. Never to Pug had a
moment been so bittersweet.

That night it was a quiet group in the
tent that Meecham had commandeered for Pug and his family. The news
of Borric’s death had cast a pall over the camp, and much of
Kulgan’s joy at seeing his apprentice returned safely had been
blunted. The day slowly passed, with everyone becoming reacquainted,
though they spoke softly and felt little joy. Occasionally one would
leave the tent, wandering off to be alone with his thoughts for a
while. Nine years of history had been exchanged slowly, and now Pug
spoke of his flight from the Empire.

Katala kept one eye on William, who lay
curled up on a bed with one arm thrown over Fantus. The firedrake and
the boy had taken one look at each other and decided they were
friends. Meecham sat by the cook fire, watching the others carefully
Laurie and Kasumi sat on the floor, Tsurani fashion, while Pug
finished his narrative.

Kasumi was the first to speak. “Great
One, how is it that you could leave the Empire now, and not before?”

Kulgan raised one eyebrow. He was still
absorbing the changes in his former apprentice. This talk of Greater
Path and Lesser Path was still difficult to understand, and he
couldn’t believe the Tsurani attitude toward the boy. He
amended that, the young man.

“After my confrontation with the
Warlord, it became clear to me that I would serve the Empire by
leaving, for my continued presence could only bring divisiveness at a
time the Empire needs to heal itself. The war must be ended, and
peace established, for the Empire is being drained.”

“Aye,” added Meecham, “as
is the Kingdom. Nine years of war are bleeding us dry.”

Kasumi was equally discomforted by the
casual tone these people took toward Pug. “Great One, what if
the Emperor cannot stop the new Warlord? The council will surely be
quick to elect one.”

“I don’t know, Kasumi. I
will then have to try to close the rift.”

Kulgan pulled long on his pipe, then
blew a thick cloud. “I am still not clear on everything you
have said, Pug. From what you have said, I can see nothing that will
prevent them from opening another rift.”

“There is nothing, except that
rifts are unstable things. There is no way to control where a rift
will go; it was mere chance that caused the one between this world
and Kelewan. Once that one was established, others could follow, as
if the path between the two worlds acted to other rifts like a
lodestone to metal.

“The Tsurani could attempt to
re-establish the rift, but each attempt would probably take them to
other, new worlds. If they returned here, it would be by the merest
chance, one in thousands. If the rift is closed, it would be years
before they returned, if ever.”

“From what you said about the
Warlord’s taking his own life,” said Kulgan, “can
we expect a respite in the fighting?”

It was Kasumi who answered. “I
fear not, friend Kulgan, for I know this Warlord’s
Subcommander. He is Minwanabi, a proud family from a powerful clan,
and it would serve his cause well when the High Council meets for his
clan to bring word of a great victory. Most likely he will attack in
force within days.”

Kulgan shook his head. “Meecham,
you had best ask Lord Lyam to join us; he must hear this.” The
tall franklin rose and left the tent.

Kasumi frowned. “I have come to
know this world a little, and I agree with the Great One. Peace would
surely profit us both, but I do not see it coming.”

The young Duke followed Meecham into
the tent a few minutes later, and Kasumi repeated his warning. “We
had best be ready, then, for the attack,” said Lyam.

Kasumi looked uncomfortable. “Lord,
I must beg your pardon, but should fighting come, I cannot stand
against my own people. May I have your permission to return to my own
lines?”

The Duke considered this, and Pug
noticed that his face was becoming lined with the strain of command.
Gone were the laughing eyes and ever present smile. Now he resembled
his father more than ever “I understand. I will order you
passed through the lines, if I have your parole that you will repeat
nothing you have heard here.”

Kasumi agreed and rose to leave. Pug
stood also and said, “I will issue one last order to you,
Kasumi, as a magician of Tsuranuanni. Return to your father, for he
has need of you. One more soldier dying will aid your nation little.”

Kasumi bowed his head. “Your
will, Great One.”

Kasumi embraced Laurie and left with
Lyam.

Kulgan said, “You have told me so
much that is difficult to absorb I think for now we had best retire,
for I feel the need of resting.”

As the old magician rose, Pug said to
him, “There is one thing I have been waiting to ask. What of
Tomas?”

“Your childhood friend is well
and with the elves of Elvandar. He is a warrior of great renown, as
he had wished to be.”

Pug smiled. “I am glad to hear
that Thank you.”

Kulgan, Laurie, and Meecham bade them
good night and left Katala said, “Husband, you are tired. Come
rest.”