Date: Tue, 04 Jul 2006 20:24:56 -0700
From: Trewin Greenaway <trewingreenaway@cronnex.com>
Subject: A TALE OF WIZARDRY (Jessan 17)

            JESSAN  - A TALE OF WIZARDRY Chapter 17

Copyright 2006 Trewin Greenaway All Rights Reserved

To learn more about me and the genesis of this tale, visit my website
http://www.cronnex.com/ .

I try to post a new chapter every Saturday if possible. If you're enjoying
the story, do let me know!

   ooooooooooooo0000O000ooooooooooooooo

                Chapter 17

so we cleaned ourselves and I called up a hot breath of air to dry
us. Then, I in my borrowed shirt and Caelas, resplendent in his armor and
helmet, went down the stairs again. When we reached the bottom, Caelas
bowed deeply and stood silently for a moment, as did I, more in imitation
than by instinct. When he lifted his head again, I took his hand and we
walked together down one of the aisles toward the throne.

The raised tombs were made of black marble; the sculptures that lay upon
them were carved from a pure white stone- - marble, too, perhaps, but
translucent. The mellow unflickering light of the magic lamps made them
softly glow. The figures themselves were neither young nor old, but rather
beautiful in a timeless way. The features of each were different from those
of the next, and yet also very much the same. I was only barely familiar
with my own reflection, but I knew that I in some way resembled every one
of them.

 I laid my hand on one and ran my fingers along its arm. A great sadness
seized me and my eyes filled with tears. It was only self-pity - how much I
would have liked to have known him, indeed, any that lay in this
room. Caelas noted my state and put his arm around me.

I leaned against him and said, "It's like seeing all the members of your
family, the resemblances, the differences, all of it simply moving and
interesting - until you realize you'll never meet, let alone get to know,
any of them."

"You forget your twin," Caelas answered, "at least if I remember the
legends correctly."

"Yes," I whispered, "I do keep forgetting about him. If only I could have
some sense of him...." I stopped in the middle of my thought. We had simply
chosen the nearest aisle to reach the throne, but I'd already noticed that
in the next one over there was something strange about the last three
tombs. We had reached them as we were talking and I now saw why - each of
the figures was broken into fragments, although these were fixed firmly in
place.

"The last three of your line," Caelas sad sadly. "All killed by The
Unnameable One, and their souls eaten."

I shuddered, and my whole body shook with sudden rage.

"What does that mean, Caelas," I asked, "that their souls were eaten?"

"Orien's the one to answer such a question," he replied hesitantly. "But if
what I've heard is true, certain magical beings are able to devour the
souls of those they kill. They do so to increase their own power and to
prevent the soul from ever again returning to the Hallowed Halls, where it
might bear witness against the perpetrator. In the eyes of men, therefore,
it seems a doubly evil act."

"There's only one soul I would ever eat," I said hotly, still looking at
the shattered remains of these beautiful figures.

"I hope when that time comes you'll find there's none to take," Caelas
answered. "For if the word 'soulless' has any meaning, it refers to He Who
Has No Name. But if He does still possess one..., well, it's not for me to
advise." He took my hand and drew me away, saying, "Come, let's look at
your throne - there seems to be something on it."

My attention had been so seized by the smashed figures that I had hardly
noticed it. But now that I looked where Caelas pointed, I saw that
something was lying on the seat, as if casually left behind by whoever was
here.

The throne itself was made of several different costly woods, artfully
joined and decorated with faint tracings of silver embedded in the wood, a
filigree of interwoven arcane signs and ancient runes. Curved arms reached
out from the back, carved to resemble spirits, their faces staring out at
out at us from the ends.

The object resting on the seat was made of some mysterious metal with the
glint of palest white gold. It was cylindrical, narrow, and longer than a
dagger but not as much as a short sword. Since Caelas said nothing, I
tentatively picked it up and, when nothing happened, turned it over in my
hands. Two symbols had been deeply incised in it, one at the base of either
end.

to see the images, go to http://www.cronnex.com/jessan.html

Naturally, from my studies in Alfrund's enkiridion, I recognized them
both. The circle with a horizontal bar was the symbol of water; the other,
the circle with a dot in its center, was that for air - the two of the four
elements from which I drew my strength.

As soon as I had seen it, I thought it might be a wand of power, but now my
initial excitement began to fade away. The thing was completely inert in my
hands, nothing more than a mere rod of precious metal, meant to display,
perhaps, my exalted status. Disappointed, I handed it to Caelas, who
practically jumped aside.

"Jessan!" he said in a shocked voice. "You know what that is. I can't touch
it, and wouldn't, out of respect for what it represents."

"I know what it looks like," I answered. "But it doesn't feel like one. And
I hope it's not, if all it's going to do is provide Orien the opportunity
for giving me more lessons."

Caelas shook his head. "It makes no sense that a wand of power wouldn't
know you and respond accordingly. Hold it out again to me."

I did so, and Caelas first moved his fingers over it, braced to snatch them
away, and then, when he felt nothing, took it in his hand. "I've never felt
a metal at once so light and so solid," he said. "It has a pleasing
weight. But you're right; it has no feel of magic about it at all."

He handed it back. "If it's not your touch that quickens it to life," he
said, "it will be in connection with something that only you've the
knowledge or power to do. Some spell perhaps...." He shook his head
dubiously, even as he said it.

"So, we end up back with Orien," I said, and taking his arm, drew him
toward the stairs. "Well, it will give him some pleasure, at least,
revealing the mysteries. Meanwhile, though, it's time to head for home and
my bed."

We exited the hidden anteroom and I closed the secret door behind
me. Somewhat disconsolately, I followed Caelas across the great room,
detouring as I did so to run my hand through the pulsating blue force at
its center. The moment I touched it, the wand, held in my other hand,
sounded a pure tone.

"Caelas, wait!" I cried. I stepped into the force, holding the wand
tightly. To my astonishment, instead of wrapping itself around me as
always, the force simply vanished, as if its flow had been suddenly cut
off.

The wand, on the other hand, seemed energized beyond all imagining,
vibrating so intensely that it was becoming too painful to hold. I
hurriedly stepped out of the circle and, immediately, the force reappeared
in a great swirl of pulsing blue light, as if nothing had happened.

I looked down at the wand, which felt as if it were about to explode in my
hand. I pointed one end toward the sea and mentally commanded it to
discharge. At once, a brilliant bolt of force shot out into the night,
piercing and dispersing the mist. It traveled so quickly that almost before
I grasped what had happened it was out of sight, leaving behind a luminous
blue trail. A few seconds later a great burst of light appeared at the
horizon, followed seconds later by an ear-deafening thunderclap.

"By the Mother Goddess!" Caelas swore. He had been pulling on his armor and
buckling on his weapons while I was in the force field; the moment the
burst of thunder sounded he rushed at top speed out of Sondaram and up the
hill. A moment later I heard him commanding his men, who, despite my spell,
had been startled out of their sleep.

I was about to decide what to do next myself, when I realized that the wand
was once again inert in my hand. I'd utterly discharged it. Who knew when I
would be able to return to Sondaram? I slipped into the force, but this
time only long enough for the wand to feel alive in my hand.

By the time I'd done this I heard the sound of horses racing up the
hill. Whoever was riding them had no qualms about approaching Sondaram, for
I saw their torches appear as they reached the crest. Quickly I hurried to
the secret door, commanded it to open, and slipped through. I knew that no
one could harm me in the palace, but I had no wish to betray Caelas by
being seen here either.

Inside the anteroom, I listened as best I could, but heard nothing but my
own beating heart. I was too restless to wait here by the door, so
descended into the room below and went and sat on my throne, my legs tucked
under me.

The lights in the room had once again begun to glow, dimly at first and
then enough for everything there to be clearly seen. But this time, perhaps
because I was alone, or because the wand of power was active, the carved
figures on top of each catafalque not only appeared to glow, they actually
did so. I found I could mentally dim the lights around the walls, so that
these figures seemed to float in space, in their different attitudes of
repose.

All, that is, except the three broken figures, who, because they were
positioned behind me, I didn't immediately see. When I thought to turn and
look at them, I saw that their broken fragments flickered but dimly like
the flames of a dying fire, blue in the center but quickly fading into
orange, yellow, and deepest red.

Again this stabbed at my heart. But now my eyes, instead of filling with
tears, grew hard with hate. I swore that not only would I destroy The
Unnameable One, but do all I could to make him suffer for this deed, and
suffer long. I cast my eyes down and held this grim thought for some time.

When I lifted my eyes again, I found that they had adjusted to the darkness
of the room. I could now see the catafalques on which the figures rested
and, more interestingly, on a far wall, something glowing faintly. Curious,
I left my seat and passed among the tombs until I came to it.

What I had seen was another translucent tile displaying the glowing emblem
of a hand - a second secret doorway! I ordered it to open and it did so, as
quickly and silently as the other. And again a flight of stairs descended
before me. And again a string of soft lights illuminated the way. But this
time, the way led away from Sondaram, not down further under it. This was a
secret passage that would take me back to Gedd.

And, indeed, after a long descent, I found myself facing another door. I
commanded the lights to extinguish themselves, and, giving my eyes a moment
to get accustomed to the dark, ordered the door to open. It did so, and,
stepping through, I found myself at the end of a dark lane. The door
snicked shut behind me, and turning, I found nothing behind me but an
ancient, half ruined stone wall. But when I lifted my wand to where the
door had been, a hand glowed dimly, this time through solid rock. Sondaram
was no longer barred to me, no matter how many soldiers guarded the road.

I was unfamiliar with this part of Gedd and, in the pitch black, took some
time to orient myself. But finally I made my way back to Grysta's door,
lifted the latch, and let myself in. I began to ascend the stairs, already
half asleep, when a hand reached out of the darkness, seized me by the back
of the neck. It threw me into the kitchen, almost sending me tumbling onto
the floor as well.

I regained my balance and backed toward the fireplace, too shocked to
remember I was still clutching the wand of power. The sleeping embers still
cast off enough light to dimly see by, and almost immediately I was aware
of Orien's face floating in the dark before me, a dangerously angry glint
in his eyes.

"You reckless idiot!" he whispered. "You utterly empty-headed child! If I'd
known you were slipping up to Sondaram on your own.... And that burst of
light! Why not go into the center of town, jump up and down and shout your
name until the soldiers come to drag you to the fort?"

I reached out a touch of the force to calm him, but he angrily brushed it
away. "And don't even think to practice your little tricks on me," he
hissed, "or I'll leave you at once and forever. There will be others born
after you, and perhaps they'll be granted a fair share of brains."

I retreated to the table, pulled out a stool, and sat down on it, burying
my head in my hands. As I did so, I laid the wand of power on the
table. Before it had been invisible to Orien, but now it caught and
refracted the faint light. The sight of it obviously caused him no joy.

"Well," he whispered, "that explains it. Couldn't wait to try it out, and
in the most extravagant manner possible. And I suppose you've been putting
the soldiers under a spell of sleep when you passed them to enter
Sondaram?"

Since to lie would only turn his anger into frothing rage, I merely nodded
my head.

"Well," he said, sighing, "if you'd the sense to wake them once you passed
them on the way back, they'd have felt as though they merely dozed off for
a second. You do know that if anyone found them asleep at their post,
they'd all be immediately executed?"

I shook my head, speechless. I hadn't known that. Of course, Caelas had
never slept, but if he'd been found to have entered Sondaram.... No wonder
he had rushed off in such a hurry. And I'd been in no position to help him,
even if I'd had the wits to try. My powers seemed so unformed. It was like
growing into manhood all over again - one moment you spoke in a man's voice
and in the next one you squeaked like a child.

All these thoughts, of course, I kept to myself. But my silence had more of
a tempering effect on Orien than any speech would have done. Meeting no
resistance, his anger faded into something akin to despair.

"We shall have to act at once," he said. "The Summoner will have already
reported that bolt and The Unnameable One is now cognizant that you're
quickly assuming your powers. If we don't leave soon and make plain we have
done so, He will call a blight down upon this entire part of the kingdom,
leaving it uninhabitable and all who live here seared and dead."

I lifted my head from my hands and stared at him in shock. "He can do
that?" I whispered.

"It would take all His remaining power," Orien answered, "and leave Him
greatly weakened for a time afterwards, but, yes, He certainly
could. However, I think that He'll wait for more information first. After
all, what happened did so in the mist at a distance late at night, when
everyone was asleep. No damage was done. It could have merely been you
blowing yourself to pieces."

He stood up. "I'll have to advance our time of departure to the day after
tomorrow. That will mean you'll celebrate your Coming of Age Day at sea,
but I can't say that you deserve to have one at all.

"Tomorrow, remain in this house, all day and all night. I've the sense that
the Lord of the Fort has some trick up his sleeve; things have been far too
quiet. Alfrund's been busy quietly gathering supplies for our trip, but
tomorrow I'll send him here to keep an eye on you. I told him more than
once to slip out of Fendal's bed after their lovemaking and come here to
keep an eye on you."

That would have pleased me greatly, I thought, to have Alfrund here
straight from a bout in bed with Fendal. But, again, I held my tongue.

Orien turned to leave. But he thought of something, paused and turned to
me. "Jessan," he whispered softly, "'E' as in 'evilest.'" And then he was
gone.


I was now too shaken to go to bed. So, instead, I pulled my stool before
the fire and poked the ash off the coals until flames began to lick at
their edges. The house was so quiet that I could hear the regular drip of
Grysta's water clock in the work room, mindlessly marking off the
minutes. Time was too complicated to be caught and tracked that way, I
thought, however useful the device for timing alchemical processes. At this
time of night, for example, it became merely a form of torture.

My thoughts were broken by a light tread. Onna pulled out another stool
from under the table and sat down beside me. She reached out and took my
arm.

"Jessan" she whispered, "who are you?"

I took her hand in mine and pulled back my sleeve, revealing the
Cronnex. At this hour, in this darkness, it almost glistened.

She caught her breath.

"How much did you hear of Orien's whispering?" I asked.

"Everything, I think," she replied. "The sound of your stumbling woke
me. Did Orien hit you?"

I shook my head. "But only by exercising great restraint," I said. "I'm
sure he'd have dearly loved to, and would have, were I his apprentice. But
he knew full well that one blow is all it would take for me to turn him
into a toad."

She giggled. "Well, that thought didn't keep him from calling you some very
choice names. So," she continued, "you've been stealing up to Sondaram
these nights, not to some handsome lover."

I glanced at her. "As you know," I said, "I've been doing both. My lover
commands the detail that guards Sondaram all night."

Onna's eyes widened. "You aren't one to do things by half, are you?" she
asked. "If Orien knew that, he probably would have beaten you with his
staff, first as a wizard and then as a toad."

I smiled. "I told you before, Onna, that these things just happen."

"And because of that," she said, "will we all die and Gedd become a
desert?"

Tears began to drip down her cheeks. I moved my stool next to hers, put my
arm around her, and held her tightly.

"Not because of that, Onna," I answered sadly. "But because He Who Cannot
Be Named wishes me destroyed. What Orien said is true, and I suppose I
deserved some of his reproaches. But if I hadn't done what I did, I
wouldn't have met Caelas, who may yet become an important ally in this
struggle. Nor would I have learned to shape and master the force that I now
command or have found the wand with which to do so."

I lifted my hand and made a summoning gesture. The wand rose from the table
and floated into my fingers. I pointed it toward the fire and gave it a
mental command. Immediately a bright blue circle formed, floated over the
fire, and vanished with a puff.

"Even someone as wise as Orien can fool himself into thinking that if only
everyone would do as he says, he could exercise some control over
events. But he couldn't be more wrong. Great forces have long been set in
motion; my enemy knows better than I what powers I've attained, for He has
walked the same path himself.

"In all this, Orien is himself no more than a knight or bishop," I went on,
"but I am a king or queen. The two who sit over the board are beyond our
imagining and our fates mean nothing to them. All we can know is that each
intends to win, and has already thought out the play several moves
ahead. We can only await the touch that will push us toward our doom."

Where these somber thoughts sprang from, I hardly knew. But the moment I
spoke them, I knew them to be true. I looked at Onna and smiled. "Now that
surely cheered you up."

 She put her arm around me and gave me a squeeze. "Believe it or not, it
did," she answered. "Because you showed me a Jessan that before I'd never
have believed existed. And that gives me hope."

She let go of my waist and gave me a gentle shove. "Let us get to our
separate beds," she said. "Tomorrow sounds like a busy day."