The Tower of Sorcery

by James Galloway

"It sounds like you're doing very well."

  "I love Sorcery!" she beamed. "It's so fun!" She patted him on the arm. "I'll never have to worry about getting dresses the right color, or freezing my tail off in that drafty old castle my father makes us live in, and I'll be able to do all those little things that nobody can ever get right. I can finally make everything just perfect!"

  "I'm so happy for you," he said absently. She punched him in the arm. "Your Highness."

  They stepped out into the cool autumn air, and Keritanima winced against the bright sunshine briefly. She imperiously glared at him until he offered his arm to her, and she placed her hand within it. He escorted her across the grounds, towards the main Tower. "What did you do today?" she asked idly.

  "Not much," he said. "Just read, napped, and almost killed Amelyn."

  She gave him a direct, penetrating stare. "What happened?"

  "She got on my nerves," he said in a blunt voice. "I told her that I wouldn't do anything until they let me out of this damned prison to see my parents. My father was injured, and I want to see him and make sure he's alright. So I told them that I wasn't going to do anything until they let me out of here to see my father."

  "You tell them, Tarrin," she giggled. "Don't let them push you around."

  "Not anymore," he grated.

  She squeezed his arm gently. He took that as a blessing as to what he had done. That was a relief. If he accidentally screwed up Keritanima's plans, it could create a big mess.

  "Oh, and I have a present for you," he said suddenly.

  "A present? For me? How sweet," she beamed. "Can I see it?"

  He fished the silver amulet and chain out of his trousers. The amulet itself was too bit to put in his pocket, so he'd had to cinch the amulet between the waist of his trousers and his skin and put the chain in the pocket, and it had been creating a burning itch on his hip ever since.

  "Isn't this one of those Sorcerer necklaces? Those shay-rams?

  He nodded. "I was told to give this to you," he told her in Selani. "It's very special."

  "Who told you?" she asked in Selani.

  "Her," he said, tapping the amulet device before placing it in her waiting hand.

  "You're serious," she said suspiciously, her eyes widening a bit.

  "Would I lie to you, shaida?"

  "No, but you may believe something that's not true," she said. "You mean she talked to you?"

  He nodded.

  "She. Her."

  "Yes, shaida," he said patiently. "She did."

  "What did she say?"

  "We'll talk about that later. She just told me to give this to you, and I'm not about to disobey. It's a gift from her."

  "You're positive--"

  "Shaida, I'm absolutely positive," he interrupted.

  Keritanima took the shaeram and held it up, inspecting it meticulously. "It really is lovely," she said in the common tongue. "And I love silver. It's prettier than gold. I won't get in trouble for wearing this, will I?"

  "Does Allia for wearing hers?" Tarrin replied calmly. "They know she wears it."

  "You're right, I guess," she said with a vapid smile. She pulled the chain wide, then slipped it over her head and settled it under her red Initiate dress. "Thank you, Tarrin. I love presents, and this one is very pretty."

  "I'm glad you approve." She glared at him. "Your Highness."

  Keritanima snapped their way through the main Tower's corridors, bullying other Initiates and Novices out of her way with sharp comments and ugly stares. Tarrin walked along with her, silently amused as he watched the Brat Princess in action. She really did have being a pain down to an artform. She could irritate almost anyone. They reached the kitchens, and after fixing plates for themselves, they went back outside to sit on a stone bench at the edge of the gardens to eat.

  Tarrin was fixated by what was going on over on the training grounds of the Knights. It wasn't that far from the gardens. One of Keritanima's massive lizard Wikuni guards was on the field, being pressed by four cadets at once. Using a warhammer with a head almost as big as a log, the huge monster of a Wikuni kept his attackers well in control. Tarrin noted that the Wikuni swung that warhammer with an exacting precision that spoke of his true skill, a skill that would allow him to strike any of his attackers exactly as hard as he wished.

  "I didn't know you let your guards train with the Knights," Tarrin noted.

  "What they do on their own time isn't my business," she shrugged.

  "He's really giving those cadets a fight," Tarrin chuckled. "They'll never touch him."

  "Of course they won't," she said with a wicked smile. "That's Binter. He's one of the best Marines my daddy has. That's why he was sent to be my personal bodyguard."

  "What about the other one?"

  "Sisska," she said. "She's good, but nowhere near Binter."

  "She? She doesn't look female."

  "Binter and Sisska aren't Wikuni," she told him.

  "They're not? What are they?"

  "They're Vendari Lizard Men," she replied. Tarrin had heard stories of the almost legendary Vendari. They were massive lizard-men who lived on the continent of Sharadar, in the Jungles of Vendar. They were very advanced and cultured. The Vendari culture centered around war and combat, but they also had a very, very refined sense of honor and propriety that didn't make them barbarically warlike. They treated fighting as a field of honor, something to take very seriously. Because they didn't raid, and their powerful sense of honor prevented them from breaking the treaties they had formed with their neighboring nations, the Vendari often hired out as mercenaries in wars in other parts of the world. Honor was everything to a Vendari, and he would die rather than have his honor stained. They also were well known for living by a strict code that prevented them from lying. A Vendari absolutely would not lie. Ever. Because of that, they were often employed as messengers and arbitraters.

  "How did the Wikuni end up with Vendari in their army?"

  "There's a very small colony of Vendari who live in the jungles of Wikuna," she told him. "Binter and Sisska are Vendari, but their allegiance is to Wikuna. Almost every single one of them is either in the Army or the Marines, but to keep them centralized, they're allowed to be stationed at home, so their colony isn't disbanded by them having to serve in different places."

  "That's considerate of your father."

  "Keep the Vendari together, and they'll have little Vendari, who grow up into future soldiers," Keritanima said with a smile. "It's not an act of consideration. My father never does anything that doesn't help him, either personally or as King."

  "No wonder they look the same," Tarrin said. "Female Wikuni always have breasts, even reptillian ones. I guess the same isn't true for Vendari."

  "I can tell the difference, because females smell different. Sisska was sent so she could enter my bedchamber when I'm not dressed. Sisska is Binter's wife."

  The cadets were called off, and the massive Mahuut cadet, Azakar, was sent in to challenge Binter. Azakar was by far the largest man Tarrin had ever seen, but he was almost a full head shorter than the incredibly huge Vendari. Those two had the rare distinction of being taller than Tarrin, something to which Tarrin was not accustomed. Tarrin came up to Azakar's chin, but he probably only came up to Binter's chest.

  "This should be interesting," Keritanima said between bites of roasted pork.

  "Azakar's good, but he's not that good," Tarrin said. "Binter will have him down within two minutes."

  Much as Tarrin predicted, the Vendari put Azakar on his back only about a minute into the fight. Binter's raw size and power made him almost invulnerable to the smaller humans, because he understood how to use that size and power to his utmost advantage. He had a style like Karn the blacksmith back in Aldreth, he set his feet and dared someone to try to move him. He moved with deceptive slowness, until he could explode into action and take his opponent off guard.

  Azakar was called off, and one of the Knights was sent on to challenge the Vendari. "No
w it gets interesting," Tarrin said. "That's Ulgen. He's one of their better Knights. Ulgen will give Binter fits, because he's sneaky."

  As they ate, they watched Ulgen and Binter dance around. The Vendari was forced into a real fight, and Ulgen gave him a serious run for his money. Ulgen understood the advantages of his adversary, and forced Binter to attack him in ways that eliminated the majority of his advantage. Ulgen was a wily Knight, one of their better fencers, flicking his heavy broadsword with as much delicacy as a Shacèan Musketeer. He put Binter back on his heels as the Vendari struggled to use the warhammer, not a weapon of finesse, to block a clever and intricate series of light slashes and thrusts. Being put off balance took most of the threat out of Binter's responses, and it put the pair on even terms. After about five minutes, however, Binter got the Knight off balance by using his weight advantage, and then used his huge muscled tail to slap Ulgen to the ground. Just like Tarrin, Binter understood the advantage of his tail, and had learned how to use it as a weapon in a fight.

  "I think that with two Vendari guarding your door, you'll be very safe," Tarrin predicted after watching that. It took a good fighter to put Ulgen down in five minutes. Ulgen was no wet-nosed puppy.

  "That's the idea," Keritanima said with a giggle. "Forget the two hundred Marines garrisonned here. Binter and Sisska are all I need."

  "Where are they, anyway? I never see them."

  "They're on the far side of the grounds, in the southern corner. They train on their own field. There's a bit of, friction, between the Marines and the Knights. I think it's a professional desire to see who's better. So they're kept apart to prevent a general war on the grounds."

  Tarrin chuckled. "Wikuni Marines squaring off against the Knights of Karas? That would be a war."

  "I was curious about something," she said.

  "What?"

  "I noticed that all the Knights are branded, just like you and Allia. What's going on with that?"

  "Oh," Tarrin said with a rueful chuckle. "Allia branded me so I could be her brother," he began. "Well, the Knights consider me and Allia to be part of them, and if you know anything about the Knights--"

  "Where All Are One Under Karas," she quoted the Knight parable, the one core ideal which identified the Knights as a group. "So they saw your brands, and decided that if you two had to wear them, so did they."

  Tarrin nodded. "Now every Knight who passes training is branded in the Ceremony of Spurs. They have the holy symbol of Karas on one shoulder, and the standard of the Knights on the other."

  "I'm sorry to say it, but you warrior types are weird," she said in a serious voice that made Tarrin burst out laughing. "Well, you are," she said in a defensive voice as Tarin reclaimed control of himself. "I'd never let someone put red-hot steel on my shoulder just to feel like I belonged."

  "You wouldn't do it even if it meant that you attained what you dreamed of attaining for years?" he asked.

  "Well, in that case, I probably would," she acceded.

  "The Knights wear those brands like badges of honor now," Tarrin told her. "They're all very proud of them. And, I've been told that a priest of Karas is always on hand to help out, just in case. I get the funny feeling that they cheat a bit by having the priest deaden the feeling of the cadets just before they're branded."

  "I'd rather be knocked out," Keritanima grunted.

  "You may have to endure it," Tarrin mused.

  "What? Why?"

  "Because Allia really likes you," he replied. "I've caught her almost calling you deshaida a few times. And if you want to visit her clan someday and be accepted, that means you have to be sister to the Selani in all but blood. That means you accept the brands."

  Those amber eyes became lucid and calculating for a moment, then faded back into the vapidness of the Brat Princess. "Well, I hope it doesn't hurt," she said.

  "It does, trust me," he said with a shudder. "The pain is part of the ceremony."

  "You're not making me look forward to this," Keritanima said with cool disdain. "Besides," she said in Selani, "it's not something the one without honor would do." There really wasn't a Selani word for brat, because such individuals didn't exist in their society. They were killed long before a word could be created to describe them.

  "Who knows?" he said.

  "Humans are such weird creatures," Keritanima said seriously.

  "I'd have to agree," Tarrin said with a smile. "I used to be one of them, you know."

  "I'd never have guessed," she teased.

  They finished their lunches in relative silence, watching the Knights give Binter a bit of exercise. Tarrin felt a curious closeness to the Wikuni sitting beside him. She was much like him, a lost soul, someone very out of place with her situation, and he remembered what the Goddess had to say about her. He'd always liked her before, at least after he met the real Keritanima, but he realized that his feelings for her had deepened. It wasn't a romantic attraction, it was much what he felt for Allia. She was becoming close to him, like another sister. Their circumstances had brought them together, but that togetherness had formed what he hoped was a mutual bond of trust and friendship, and love.

  He put his paw on her shoulder, and she looked up at him. She was about to say something, but when she looked into his eyes, her own softened considerably. Just for a moment, the Brat Princess dissolved away, and Keritanima looked up at him and smiled, then brushed her bushy tail up against his back. "It would honor me greatly if I could call you my deshaida, Keritanima," he said formally in Selani.

  "The honor would be mine, Tarrin," she replied in Selani. "And it would honor me if I could call you my deshida."

  "I would find great honor in it," he replied sincerely, squeezing her shoulder.

  "Yes, well," Keritanima said, her voice just a bit flustered, "I'm glad you think so." He could see her soft eyes hardening again, as she regained her composure and returned to her assumed personality. Keritanima had to stretch it to talk with him civilly as the Brat, but there was no way she could maintain her facade when such honest emotion passed between them.

  "Are you ready for our little gathering?" she asked idly, getting herself under control.

  "I'm always ready," he told her.

  "Good. It's about time for us to get back. What are you doing?"

  "Being as inactive as possible," he said with a wicked smile. "I think I may go find my staff and go challenge your Vendari bodyguard."

  "It's your teeth," she said with an evil smile.

  "They grow back," Tarrin shrugged.

  "Well have fun with those weird warrior things," she said with a teasing look in her eye. "I'm going to go learn about real power."

  "Enjoy," he told her as she stood up. "I'll see you tonight?"

  "Oh, I guess so," she drawled. "You've proven that you're worthy enough to spend time in my august presence."

  "I'll just bask in your aura, Kerri," Tarrin said dryly, standing up.

  "I'll have to go get my aura polished, then," she winked. "You need a tan."

  "You're so kind to me."

  She laughed, then put her hands on her shoulders, rose up on her toes, and gave him a short lick to the cheek.

  "Isn't this a bit out of character?" Tarrin asked quietly.

  "Of course not," she said flippantly. "The Brat really likes you. It's why she tolerates your impertinence. Besides, she's amused by your wicked ways. You're always entertaining."

  "Witch," Tarrin grinned.

  "Count on it," she said with bright eyes, then she stepped away. "I'll see you tonight, Tarrin," she said. "Have fun. Oh, and thanks for the present. We'll talk about it tonight."

  "I'll try, and you're welcome," he told her, then he watched her saunter away.

  He chuckled again. Keritanima was quite a woman.

  I told you so, the Goddess' voice echoed in the depths of his mind, her tone amused and teasing, and then it was gone just as quickly as it came to him.

  "You stay out of this," he said aloud, in a playful banter
. But there was no response.

  Tarrin glanced at Binter again. Oh, yes, he'd like a match against that monster of a Vendari. He had the feeling that he may need some experience fighting larger opponents. The Gods only knew what would jump out of the wall to attack him next.

  Tracking down his staff wasn't easy. They'd taken it from the battleground, and he had to ask around for almost an hour until he found out who had taken it. It ended up in the laboratory of a katzh-dashi, a small, plump little man with a balding pate and a rotund face. He smelled heavily of spices and garlic, and the lingering traces of the smells of many, many types of plants were trapped in his brown robe. His laboratory was in the Northeast Tower, a small area that was dominated by a row of huge glass windows that ran along the right wall. Lining that entire side of the room were rows and rows of plants, flowers, and vegetables, all growing in long wooden troughs filled with sod. The entire room smelled of earth and plants and life, and it twinged the animal within him in the most curious way.

  "Ah, I wondered when you would show up," the little man said in a gentle voice from where he was pruning an amazingly little tree in a brazed brass pot. "You want your staff back?"

  "Please," Tarrin replied directly. "Why did they bring it here?"

  "I wanted to study the wood," he replied. "I specialize in plants and botany. Ironwood is exceedingly rare. It only grows in the northeast corner of Sulasia. Do you know that it's so bouyant that a staff like that one can support the weight of a grown man?" he asked, pointing to Tarrin's staff. It was laying on a long table near the door, an open book with scribbled notes sitting beside it. "And it doesn't die. The wood in that staff is still alive, even after being cut away from its parent tree. If you planted that staff in the ground and left it, it would grow into another tree."

  "I didn't know it was still alive," Tarrin said in surprise, going over and picking up the staff. He inspected it, and realized that it had been cut, right at the very end. He grounded it, and saw that the man had shaved about a quarter of a finger off its length. "You cut it."

  The man gave him a surprised look. "Well, yes, I took a sliver off the end. I'm surprised you noticed."

  "It pays to know a weapon that may save your life some day," he said sagely.