Wizard of Wisdom: An Epic Fantasy Series (Wisdom Saga Book 1)

by W. C. Conner

  You would have been proud of us, Eldred. Even though injured, the three of us came against the five of them and our focused energies immolated them where they stood outside the door. There seemed a brutal satisfaction in the thought and, though Eldred understood the emotion, he wondered at the satisfaction in the brutality.

  What happened to the townspeople? Eldred asked.

  They fled the day the creatures were first seen in the woods surrounding the village. I would suspect that the population of Muirshead has swollen very recently.

  The sense that Gregory was enjoying a bit of humor encouraged Eldred. He waited for several minutes while Gregory appeared to drift off once again.

  And you, Eldred, came Gregory’s thought. Did you catch up to the battle as you had intended?

  We did, indeed, though we remained away from the field of battle and contributed what we could from afar.

  You went to find the battle, yet stayed above it, and we remained here to avoid the battle, yet it came to us. There was a sense of irony in the thought that came to Eldred’s mind from the physically comatose young wizard.

  Rest, Gregory, Eldred sent to the younger man. Greyleige is undone. The wizard Wilton prevailed. We do not yet know at what cost, but time will reveal that, just as time will heal your hurts and restore your powers. We will see to it that you receive care until you can rejoin us.

  A feeling of acceptance of his directive came to Eldred and he stood to find the others standing near and looking ill, for they had been regarding their deceased comrades as Eldred communed with Gregory.

  “We have much to do, brothers,” he said. “Gregory is hurt, but will restore with long rest and our good care. He has told me of what has passed here. It is an amazing tale indeed and I will share it with you in good time.”

  Turning toward the two wizards who lay dead, Eldred said, “We’ll have to take care of Timothy and Andrew after we’ve gotten Gregory someplace comfortable. His powers are dangerously depleted and he won’t be returning from the wizard’s sleep for a considerable time.”

  As he reached out to the bodies with his mind, he was disturbed to find there was no residual magic still within them. He looked toward Gregory as two of the other wizards lifted him and prepared to carry him to one of the bedrooms upstairs. His eyebrow cocked in thought as he watched. It might be well to keep an eye on Brother Gregory, he thought as he headed for the kitchen to see if he could find something to prepare that could safely be fed to Gregory in his current condition.

  But for now we’ve got to get this place restored before Thisbe returns.

  38

  Two full cycles of the moon had now passed since the horrifying battle before the walls of Blackstone. Caron stood atop the battlements of Castle Gleneagle, watching as the figures of the remaining companions became smaller and smaller as they rode away into the morning chill. “It is strange,” she said to her father who stood watching with her, “that I should have such a sense of melancholy at this time, for those are my friends who are safe and well and on their way to their homes. I should be well content and rejoice, for they have survived a horror no person should have to experience.”

  “Your melancholy is understandable,” Gleneagle said. “You traveled far with them and shared dangers and terrors few ever do in their lives. Therein lies a bond that can never be broken.”

  When the figures of Scrubby, Kemp, Peg, Tingle and Thisbe disappeared behind a stand of fruit trees in a farmer’s orchard where the road turned a bend, Caron took her father’s arm in hers and began to walk slowly along the wall. The everyday sounds of life came up to them – the sounds of carts rattling along the cobbled roads as tradesmen moved their goods, sounds of mothers calling to children and children laughing and calling to one another, the sounds of dogs barking, of horses hooves and armored guardsman, of challenge, of dispute and agreement and of weeping.

  At last, Gleneagle spoke. “I, too, am melancholy at the departure of your companions, but my melancholy goes to my soul for I carry a guilt almost beyond my ability to bear. So many lost their lives because I was weak. Had I listened to your mother – or to you, for that matter – and paid heed to the charge of the scroll, perhaps those fallen would still be among us.”

  “You mustn’t feel that way, father,” Caron replied gently. “Even were it true, there is much of which you deserve to be proud. You were without question an inspirational war leader upon the field of battle and certainly saved many lives because of it. That is not the sign of a weak man and I was filled with pride as I watched you that day we arrived at Blackstone and found you under attack.

  “But more, what was revealed in the scrolls passed down to us through the centuries, along with what we learned in our early struggles against Greyleige, and what Wil shared with me, made it clear that the evil that corrupted Greyleige and made him what he was would have happened sooner or later. Evil of any sort is patient. It will abide years and decades and centuries awaiting a vessel to carry it into our world. The longer it waits, the more powerful the hatred that breeds it becomes. It had been many centuries since a threat of this magnitude had appeared. It had been so long, in fact, that our tales no longer tell of it. Your actions early on may have made his way easier, but they did not precipitate it.” She was silent a moment as they watched life working to restore itself to the city surrounding Castle Gleneagle.

  “It may be that, just as the gentle fates placed Wilton here for us in our desperate hour, so also may they have placed such a man as you here both to pave the way for Greyleige’s rapid rise to power and to help in the healing once the power was broken. It’s conceivable that such a rapid rise blunted his patience and he overreached himself too early, leaving him weaker than he might otherwise have been when we confronted him.”

  She shivered of a sudden and her voice dropped to a whisper. “Imagine what would have happened if Greyleige had succeeded and Wil had become evil’s servant,” she said, then fell silent.

  “Mitchal told me of the daughter I had never met after you failed to return from your trip to Wrensfalls,” Gleneagle said, breaking the silence. He turned and kissed the top of Caron’s head. “All that time and I never knew,” he marveled. “I was ever proud of the daughter I knew before – your insight, your intelligence, your wise counsel even when young, and your composure – but now I am humbled by you and unable to express the depth of my pride in all that you’ve become and accomplished. In you, the powers have given me love and hope.”

  What Wil had said to the companions after his return from the Old Forest flashed into Caron’s mind at her father’s words – “It is a storage vessel for the magics of love and life and hope” – and her face relaxed into a contented smile.

  My hope and life and love wait for me in the Old Forest, she realized. I need but to find my way in. And so comforted she walked with her father, the Prince Gleneagle, distant scion of the elf Gleneagle, and now the last male of the Gleneagle line.

  Epilogue

  Having finished loading the food scraps from the waste bin behind Three Oaks, Scrubby pulled his little cart past the kitchen where he could hear Thisbe and Tingle arguing over some small domestic matter. The sound of a face being slapped was followed by a long moment of silence. Then, through the open side door, he saw Thisbe leading Tingle through the common room, the look of lust plain on both their faces as they headed for the staircase leading to the bedrooms on the second floor.

  Shaking his head in amusement at their volatile but loving relationship, his mind strayed to the other companions. Kemp and Peg had left them at the turning to Wrensfalls, for he intended to rebuild Bork’s smithy. As they had ridden, Scrubby could hear the two of them planning their marriage and sparring over the number of children they would have. He wanted boys. “Four should be enough,” he had said, and Peg had smiled.

  “There must be one girl at the least to teach your ruffian sons the proper way to treat a lady,” she had replied, and he had squeezed her hand and smiled into her
eyes, and Scrubby had sighed and wished for a Peg of his own.

  And Caron, of course. He had seen how Roland had favored her, but Scrubby knew her heart would ever lie elsewhere.

  Arriving at the dusty street running past the gates of Three Oaks, Scrubby looked down the road to the east as was his wont because travelers, the occasional seasoning of life in the little town, always came from that direction. He shaded his eyes against the morning sun when he saw the outlines of two people walking across the valley toward Wisdom. He couldn’t identify them, and they were coming slowly so Scrubby sat himself down on a bench next to the gates of Three Oaks to see what the road was bringing.

  Very strange, he thought, the man on the left walks just like old Hobbs, but he hasn’t stepped foot out of Wisdom since I was a lad. He laid the back of his head against the courtyard wall, intending only to rest his eyes as he waited, and dozed off for several minutes. Wil’s face floated through an undefined dream, and he smiled and tried to call to him, but found that he couldn’t.

  He awoke abruptly to someone calling his name. “Scrubby,” came old Hobbs’ voice. Wil’s face disappeared at the sound and Scrubby’s eyes popped open, fighting for focus as he looked up at the two figures standing before him. “If yer still interested in my daughter, she’s yours. Seems that worthless man I married her off to just up and died on her.” Scrubby looked from Hobbs to his youngest daughter, Mattie. “As ya know, my boys is all married and living in the house with me, so I’ve already got a houseful of women. I got no use for her, so if ya still want her, then take her.”

  Scrubby stood and looked again from father to daughter. Mattie was blushing furiously but she managed to raise her eyes to Scrubby’s. Having been around the breathtaking Thisbe and the wholesomely pretty Peg and the beautiful, courtly Caron, Scrubby had become accustomed to being around stunning women.

  What stood before him now was nothing like those three. Mattie was small and her hair was of a color reminiscent of a field mouse, but her hazel colored eyes were filled with warmth, her face cute rather than beautiful, and Scrubby remembered why he had named her the prettiest girl he had ever met.

  Without even looking at old Hobbs, Scrubby gave him his answer. “If she will have me, I will love her with all my heart for the rest of my life.” The warmth in her eyes echoed his words back to him and he smiled.

  “It’s done, then,” Hobbs said before turning on his heel and stumping away. “She’s all yours,” he called over his shoulder, “and don’t ya dare bring her back.”

  “He has nothing to worry about,” Scrubby said quietly to Mattie as he took the handle of his cart and started up the road toward home.

  His gaze was drawn to the trees of the Old Forest looming over Wisdom and his thoughts turned to Wil. If you had anything to do with this, Wil, he thought, thank you. Lowering his eyes from the towering trees he trudged along staring at the ground and thinking. I just wish you could have Caron there with you so you wouldn’t have to be all alone.

  Mattie watched for a few moments as he started away, then trotted along after him. She caught up after just a few strides and took the other side of the cart handle in her hand. They walked up the road side by side, smiling occasionally at one another but not speaking. There was a lifetime of that ahead for the two of them.

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  ALSO IN SERIES

  THE WISDOM SAGA

  WIZARD OF WISDOM

  PRINCESS OF WISDOM

  CHILDREN OF WISDOM

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