To Be Chosen (20 page)

“You and I are to disembark at
Bolton and wait for a south bound boat to take us back to Aakadon,” the Senior Forester replied.

Simon had not brought up his concern for Tim Dukane and the Benhannon’s after the first discussion, but the issue was still simmering in his mind. “Might we go home by way of Tannakonna?”

Barnabas fixed him with a knowing stare, his blue eyes assessing, as if they could divine the motivation of the question. The elder Accomplished took his time in answering, not that long; it just felt like it to Simon. “To what purpose?” he finally responded.

“To warn people about Serin Gell, so they will be on
alert,” Simon replied quickly.

“I have been ordered back to Aakadon. A side trip for me is out of the question,” Barnabas replied, and there was something in his tone that hinted that a closer attention to his words was being called for.

It took Simon a few moments, but he understood. “Can I make a side trip to Tannakonna?”

Barnabas smiled. “A Sprout cannot be left on its own.”

“A Sapling can,” Simon replied.

“True, but it is up to the mentor to decide when a Sprout is ready to be a Sapling.”

Simon turned to face his mentor. “I have a larger repertoire than the average Sprout, and several other resources beyond my peers,” he replied, knowing how arrogant he sounded, yet stating the simple truth.

The Senior Forester glanced at the gold-capped ebony baton Simon had tucked into his belt. It was just visible within his black silk cloak. “Tell me of your resources and in particular that crescendo.”

Simon hesitated. The baton was a gift from Daniel and extremely powerful and disclosing the fact was a good way to have it taken from him. “It is a good crescendo,” he responded.

“Oh, I suppose it is. I believe it is better than good. You see, I observe your studies and exercises, as any competent mentor would, and have noticed the types of Melodies you have been adding to your repertoire, some of which would mummify you if used. Normally, Sprouts are kept away from spells that are too powerful for them to utilize safely, but I did not stop you,” Barnabas lost his smile, not angry, just serious. “This is because I have tested your ability to cast spells, both with and without a crescendo. When you summon potential through an instrument, the drain on your life force energy is about the same as that of your peers, as is the case when you perform Melodies unaided by amplification. When you use that baton, the spells that would normally leave you or your peers exhausted, have little affect on you physiologically. I am going to ask you a specific question, if I approve of your response, I will raise you to Sapling. Stop popping up and down. I have more to say before asking the question. I have read about the recent events that took place in Tames Hall. It is well known that of the forty-two young men who shared the ninth floor dorm
with Daniel Benhannon, three of them were closer to him than the rest, and you are one of the three. He successfully challenged the Maestro of the Serpent Guild so it stands to reason he would have a crescendo adequate to do the job. Accomplished Benhannon has been Silenced and therefore has no need of a potential amplifier. I know you see where I am going with this, so here is the question; what level is that crescendo?”

Simon took a deep breath. He was caught in a difficult spot; keep Daniel’s secret, or go help the Ducaunan’s friend and family. Would Barnabas take the baton? The Senior Forester had not missed a thing, having accurately theorized the situation from casual observation. The fact is he trusted this old man. “It is a level four crescendo with six bolts of amplification,” he replied, and then watched his mentor’s eyes for a reaction.

Those blue orbs widened momentarily, perhaps at hearing the amount of amplification, and knowing how strong the maker had to be. After a thousand year pause, it was only a few seconds, Simon admitted to himself, Barnabas nodded his head. “Your reply confirms more than one of my theories concerning that baton and your Ducaunan friend. No, I’ll not discuss this with anyone else; this is between you and me. You have added a goodly number of aggressive Melodies to your repertoire, which leads me to believe you are preparing for more than a drought. As I indicated earlier, those Melodies would mummify you if cast unaided. While I am pleased to have my theories verified, I am more content to raise you to Sapling knowing you have a crescendo adequate to perform the spells in your repertoire. You are now a Sapling and I am assigning you the tasks of; going to Mount Tannakonna, solving any problems requiring the aid of an Accomplished, and then reporting back to me in Aakadon.”

Simon hugged the old man until he realized what he was doing and then stepped back. “Sorry, I mean, Thank you.”

Barnabas smoothed the wrinkles out of his cloak and tried to scowl but was unable to maintain it, then reached into his cloak, and pulled out an amulet set with a ruby. “If this assignment does not teach you proper decorum, I will work on that when next we meet in Aakadon. Mean while, use this to contact me as you have need,” he said and handed over the communication device.

Simon accepted the amulet, placing it in the inner pocket of his cloak, right next to the ones he had exchanged with Jerremy and Samuel, and watched as his mentor went back to the cabin they shared. The town of
Bolton was just coming into view on the east bank of the river and Simon was anxious to get there, knowing it would take him more than a day to reach the village of Bashierwood, three quarters of the way up Mount Tannakonna.

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A large building came into sight, five floors high and about a hundred strides wide. The inn occupied the center of the village and was by far the largest building in Bashierwood. Simon rode Spud, a mare he purchased in Bolton, up the dirt road, past Chad Grening’s Stable, according to the sign above the huge double doors, dismounted at the single hitching post in front of the inn, and went inside.
The dining room had ten tables with eight chairs at each; all but one table was filled to capacity, more than half with Ducaunan cavalrymen. His black and crimson silk shirt, pants, and cloak were a stark contrast to the green uniforms and simple buckskins and wool worn by the current patrons of the Polkat. An old-timer sat at the only table with seven seats to spare, table eight. His tan buckskins were stained, damp, and a pungent odor wafting in the air from his direction indicated he was not a man who bathed frequently, which could explain why he was sitting alone. He scratched the gray whiskers under his chin and raised a tin cup.

“Mr. Accomplished, come sit with me,” he invited.

Simon made his way over to table eight and received approving nods of the head and other forms of respectful greetings from the patrons. Up until recent events, this village was just like the rest of Ducaun, resentful and suspicious of all Aakacarns. Having one of their own rise up and smash the Serpent Guild changed a lot of attitudes in this kingdom. The fact that three Aakacarns from Aakadon were instrumental in the battle that took place in this very community also helped to change attitudes for the better.

“The name’s Darby Jack and you are sure welcome to our little village,”
the old-timer said as Simon took a seat. “It ain’t so little any more with the garrison of cavalry over to the east side. There’s a thousand of them and just a few hundred of us on the whole mountain, but we don’t mind what with all the goings on with the Serpent Guild and the world shaking like Henry’s wood floor at Spring Dance,” he added and then cocked his head sideways. “Have ye come to see the battle sites?”

“I’m pleased to meet you, Darby. I am Simon Trenca, a One-bolt Accomplished of the Willow Guild,” he replied and shook hands.

“Good to know, though I can’t rightly say I know one guild from another except the Serpent and I don’t really want to have anything more to do with them. Those three Aakacarns that helped save the village awhile back never mention guilds,” Darby replied.

“That’s because they were not yet affiliated with one,” Simon replied. “But to answer your question, no I’m not here to see the battle sites. I am here to bring some news to Miriam and Ronn Benhannon. Do you know them?”

Darby sipped from his tin cup, set it on the table, and smacked his lips. “That’s good stuff. Course I know Ronn and Miriam, everybody here knows them, even before their son got so famous. Captain Jakes says Daniel got knighted by the Queen. News is slow getting up the mountain or it was until the garrison arrived, now we get word of what’s happening in flat lands fairly quick, is what we heard true?”

“It is. He has a large estate with a big house, from what I heard, and now they call him, Sir Daniel Benhannon, Royal Knight of the Realm of Ducaun.”

Darby Jack laughed and smacked the table with the flat of his hand. “I knew that boy would grow to be something.”

“Where can I find his parents?”

Darby finished off whatever liquor was in his cup and belched. “I’ll take ye,” he volunteered and stood up while grabbing hold of a longbow Simon had failed to notice. The man also had a large knife sheathed to his belt.

“That would be helpful,” Simon replied, stood up and followed the old-timer out the door.

Simon mounted Spud, and then dismounted; deciding to walk the horse when it became obvious Darby was going to lead him on foot. The old-timer led the way up a trail going north. Four hounds, two males and two females, surrounded them the moment they left the village green and stepped beyond the tree line.

“Don’t worry about them, they won’t bother ye. Lessa and Charn are sweet, but Stankweed and Matty are down right vicious when they see a fox,” Darby informed him.

Simon was not worried, he knew plenty of spells that would discourage the dogs from ever bothering him again, none that would actually do them any harm, just scare them a bit. The animals clearly loved Darby, jumping on him as if finding a long lost relative. “Fortunately, I’m not a fox,” Simon replied, earning a chuckle from the old-timer.

They walked on until a cottage with
blue trim on the windows and doorframes came into sight. There was a chicken coop about a stone’s throw from the back door of the modest dwelling and to the right of it was a barn, which seemed to be occupied by a horse. Twenty chickens were poking at the ground farther to the right. A garden with pole beans, tomatoes, and lettuce, grew seven strides off to the left. Simon cast a spell to make them all ripen.

“This is the place,” Darby informed him, giving no evidence he had noticed
the improvement in the garden.

Simon walked up onto the porch, knocked, and had to look up when
Miriam Benhannon, wearing a light green dress, opened the door. She was taller than him. Her long tresses of auburn hair flowed over her shoulders and stopped half way down her back. The color reminded him of the border region of Battencay where the people were of mixed blood, part Battencayan and part Ducaunan. Her left eyebrow arched up as if she was intrigued by being visited by an Accomplished.  Dark brown eyes focused on Darby. “What have you brought me today?”

Darby stepped forward. “I brought ye a messenger from Daniel,” the old-timer replied, inaccurately. “Simon Trenca, a One-bolt Accomplished of the Willow Guild.”

Miriam’s eyes widened and her face lit up in a smile. “Do come in,” she replied, paused, sniffed the air, no doubt catching the scent wafting from Darby, and then added, “Both of you.”

They entered the humble abode.
Six hand-carved chairs surrounded a large table in the center of the room. Wooden figurines of swans and other birds decorated the windowsills. The whittlings were life-like and meticulously painted. The cottage had three rooms, judging by the two closed doors. The main one served as a dining room, kitchen, and company-greeting-room.

“Ronn,” Miriam called. “We have guests.”

A door opened to the right and Daniel’s father exited the room. Ronn Benhannon ran the thick fingers of his right hand through his dark hair, eyed Darby, and then focused on his other guest. He frowned at first but softened his expression, a clear attempt to be a gracious host. At six and a half cubits high and with shoulders the width of an axe handle, he made the entire room seem smaller. His buckskins, red-dyed shirt and blue-dyed pants, were well worn and his rawhide boots were stained, though not dirty. Simon could see the resemblance between father and son. They were of the same height, but this man’s muscles were massive where Daniel’s were well defined but tight rather than bulky. “Good to see you,” the mountaineer said, while nodding at both of his visitors.

“This is Simon Trenca, a One-bolt Accomplished of the Willow Guild, and he is here with news from Daniel,” Miriam told her husband.

Ronn Benhannon’s eyebrows raised and his lips formed a smile. “The last direct message we received came through Tim.”

“He had been summoned to appear before the Queen,” Miriam stated proudly.

“Captain Jakes told us our son has been knighted, but we have heard nothing more,” Ronn added to his wife’s statement.

“I am familiar with the archer who stood beside Daniel during his duel with Balen Tamm. Tim is a good man. I can add some news about your son, he has been awarded an estate about thirty-five spans southwest of Ducanton, and is busy learning the responsibilities related to being a Royal Knight of the Realm.” Simon told them, wanting to give them the good news before informing them of the bad. “I would be honored if you and perhaps Tim will allow me to escort you to Daniel’s estate.”