The Blacksmith's Son

by Michael G. Manning

  “Where’d you get the pry bar?”

  “I went to get it before I knew you were trying to blow yourself up. Give me a hand, there’s an iron ring behind the spot where that magical doodad was.” He let me put my hand on it first, and then when it was apparent that nothing else was going to explode he helped me to pull. We tugged for a few seconds and then the paneling opened along a seam, a small cupboard was revealed. Inside were three leather bound books. The first two were about ten inches on a side and about an inch thick. The third was massive, fully eighteen inches tall and three or four inches thick, it was covered in glowing symbols, the only part of it I could read was the title, A Grammar of Lycian. The other two were untitled.

  Marc started to reach in but I put my hand on his arm, “Don’t” He glanced at me then withdrew his hand. Carefully I reached in and pulled out the two smaller books; since they weren’t glowing I guessed they might be safe. I left the larger book inside.

  “Is it warded?” Marc asked.

  “It has something all over it, and it glows like a bonfire.” After some discussion we closed the panel and left the other book inside. Hopefully I would learn enough to peruse it safely later. It was getting late so we decided to quit for the evening. I took the two books with me to my room.

  “Promise me you won’t look at them without me.” Marc had a serious expression. “If something happens while you’re reading it someone should be around to drag you away or put out the fire.”

  I met his gaze and tried to be serious, “Don’t worry, I’ll wait.” A dozen smart ass comments ran through my head but for a change I kept them to myself.

  Once I was safely ensconced in my room I began examining the books. I had initially intended to keep my promise, but curiosity had gotten the better of me. Since nothing had happened after opening the covers I figured I might as well see what I could discover. The first book turned out to be a journal, written by Vestrius himself. The second seemed to be some sort of book of spells, most of it was written in plain English, but interspersed were glowing words and symbols I had no experience with. It also contained a lot of diagrams. As soon as I saw the glowing parts I decided it should wait, so I returned to the journal.

  My decision turned out to be the correct one. Unlike most journals in which someone writes their daily thoughts and such, this one turned out to be more like a lab notebook. Vestrius had been apprenticed as a teenager to another wizard named Grummond. The first task he had been given was the keeping of a journal, to record what he learned each day. I could not imagine anything more useful to me at this point. I began to read.

  Vestrius’ first days as an apprentice were quite illuminating for me, and made it clear to me what the importance of the third book was. A Grammar of Lycian was exactly that, a book detailing the grammar and vocabulary of Lycian, a long extinct language. The journal also made clear why the book glowed. Wizards are taught to use language, written and verbal, to manifest their power. Since using one’s native tongue would be dangerous in the extreme the custom was to use a dead language. Lycian had become the de facto language of magic hundreds of years ago and knowledge of it was maintained for that purpose only. Because of its long use, even the writing had acquired a sort of residual power, which could prove dangerous sometimes even in the hands of those without the gift, but to a much lesser degree.

  I resolved to collect the third book the next day; I would need to study it if I was to follow along with Vestrius’ journal.

  Chapter 4

  The second characteristic is called ‘emittance’ and refers to the rate or ability of a person to channel or ‘use’ a given quantity of aythar. Unlike capacitance, emittance is not a universal trait in all human beings. Some persons, popularly called ‘stoics’, have no emittance whatsoever, and as a result are completely unable to use, sense or manipulate magic in any way. Luckily such persons are rare, most likely occurring no more than at a rate of one or two persons per hundred. One beneficial side effect of this is that stoics are impossible to manipulate in more subtle ways, such as via enchantments or other magics affecting the mind or spirit. This makes them invaluable in certain roles, particularly in judicial settings. They are of course, still susceptible to other forms of magic, but no more so than any other physical being or object would be.

  The vast majority of humanity has a very low emittance, such that without extensive training or exposure they are largely unable to manipulate aythar to any significant degree. Similarly they have difficulty even perceiving things which are purely magical in nature. Such persons are able to use magical devices, and with extensive training even use some aythar directly, but to a very limited degree.

  ~Marcus the Heretic,

  On the Nature of Faith and Magic

  I awoke to sunshine streaming in through the open window. Squinting at the bright light I attempted to cover my head with one of the decorative pillows that I had shoved to the side the night before. Someone snatched it away from me.

  “For the love of all that’s holy!” I burrowed under the covers, seeking to hide from the light. I had never been a particularly late sleeper but I had stayed up till nearly dawn the night before. Someone else had different ideas and I found myself struggling to keep the covers up, while my assailant tried to peel them back.

  “Oh no you don’t! Mordecai Eldridge you wake up this instant! I’m done covering for you this morning, you’ve already missed your meeting with the Duke and if you think…”

  “What?” I let go of the blankets and sat up. My attacker, Penny, abruptly fell backward and tripped over the chair, taking the covers with her.

  “Ow!” she exclaimed as she came down hard on her derriere. At this point a few things require explanation. Most common folk sleep naked, as I was now, pajamas and night clothes being a luxury. As Penny stood back up I became uncomfortably aware of this, not to mention the fact that my little soldier was giving his best morning salute. I was suddenly grateful for the abundance of decorative pillows and made quick use of one to hide my condition. Penny was kind enough to look away.

  “Listen Penny, I know we’ve been friends a long time, but don’t you think it would be better to knock next time?” I’d be damned it I was going to be embarrassed. I was clearly the victim in this situation.

  “I did knock! I knocked at seven; I came back and knocked at eight and again at nine! You were called to meet with the Duke at nine thirty but I told him you were ill. I don’t think he believed me at first, but Marcus told him he’d kept you up late drinking.” She looked extremely put out but I noticed she hadn’t offered me back the covers. Instead she kept darting glances at my legs, well I presumed it was my legs. I repositioned the pillow to make sure I was covered. “Finally I just came in at ten,” she continued, “to clean and air out the room. You were sleeping like one of the dead.”

  She was determined to ruin my righteous indignation. “What time is it now?” I asked a bit sheepishly.

  “Midday.” Her raised eyebrow and pursed lips informed me that she thought noon was entirely too late to be waking.

  “Noon?” My earlier resolve to not be embarrassed deserted me. “I’m sorry Penny. Look I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, would you mind leaving so I can get dressed?” I glanced over at the dressing table. The night before, scratch that, the morning before I had gotten into an epic struggle escaping the devilish clutches of the doublet. It appeared she had sorted out the tangled mess I had victoriously left at the foot of the bed.

  “You’re going to need my help, but I’ll wait over here till you’ve got your hose and shirt on.” She turned her back to me and faced the dressing table, so I got busy putting on the clothes I could safely manage. Too late I remembered that the dressing table had a large mirror on it, looking over my shoulder I could see her surreptitiously watching me in it. I’m not sure why, but I kept my mouth shut and finished dressing, probably I’d had enough of embarrassing conversations. I made sure to tuck my shirt in this time.


  Minutes later she was helping me to lace up the doublet. Despite our prior experience I still found her closeness unsettling. I remembered Marc’s admission regarding his lack of virginity and I couldn’t help but wonder. Could it have been Penny? I kept my idiot mouth closed this time. The thought bothered me anyway.

  “What kept you up all night?” The words startled me, coming as they did from right next to my ear. I’m going to have to get Benchley to help me dress tomorrow. I thought to myself. Benchley was the valet that assisted Marc with his own wardrobe. Shutting my eyes for a moment I organized my thoughts.

  “Pardon?” Sometimes my cleverness amazes even me.

  “Don’t,” she answered.

  “Don’t what?” Having settled on the ‘dumb’ defense I figured I’d keep going.

  She finished up the laces and stepped away, eyeing my clothes critically. “Keep shutting me out Mort and you’ll regret it one day.”

  I decided that I might still have a chance with feigning ignorance, “Honestly Penny I don’t know what you’re referring to, you heard Marcus, we stayed up late drinking and I had more than might be wise…” I never got to finish, her hand caught me with a stinging slap that left my cheek tingling and turned my head half way around.

  “Goddammit Mordecai! I’ll put up with a lot, but don’t stand there and lie to my face! You tell Marc and Dorian everything but you can’t be bothered to trust me! Why? Is it the tits?” She was gesticulating wildly and she punctuated this remark by lifting the anatomy in question. “You think I’m some empty headed girl you can’t be bothered to trust?”

  I was backpedalling quickly, caught completely off-guard by the unbridled fury in her voice. “No of course not Penny! I trust you, I mean we grew up together, you being a woman has nothing to do with this. We’ve always been close friends if…”

  “Close!?” she interrupted. “That’s why you went out of your way to visit whenever you came to town the past two years? That’s why you knew my Ma died last year of the consumption? That’s why you knew Da wasn’t able to work anymore and that I had taken a job here? You came to see Dorian. You made countless trips to talk to Marcus! I just wasn’t good enough to bother talking to?” The scope of our conversation had grown to encompass a lot more than my secret research. In truth I had avoided Penny the last couple of years, mostly because things had gotten increasingly awkward with the onset of puberty. She had changed in ways that set us apart, and as she blossomed she had only gotten more popular with the men in town. I had never liked competition and truthfully she was way out of my league.

  “Did you think maybe I didn’t need a friend too?” She was winding down now and I could see tears in her eyes.

  “Penny I’m sorry, you’re right,” our conversations were developing a definite pattern, “I figured you had plenty of friends. Every boy in town has been trying to court you, surely…”

  “I didn’t need suitors, I needed a friend.” She looked directly at me as she said this, and for a moment I wanted to hold her. Stupid! She tells you she needs a friend and the first thing you think of is making a pass at her. Being born male truly is a curse sometimes.

  “Fair enough, I agree with you. If I were you I’d be somewhere else, I obviously don’t merit your friendship, so why are you here Penelope?” She was right, but I was tired of arguing. I couldn’t possibly apologize for not being there for her during her hardships. Besides she’d probably be better off if she stopped worrying about me.

  “Asshole! I’m here because you’re the only true friend I have! And don’t think you’re going to run me out of here like that; we’re friends until I say we’re not! Even if I have to beat you into telling me what’s going on with you!”

  I gave up. “What do you want to know?”

  She looked at me suspiciously, “No tricks, I already know more than you think so you’d better be honest.”

  “Deal.”

  “Why were you in the library last night?” That surprised me, she obviously didn’t miss much.

  “How did you know that?” I asked.

  “You weren’t drinking, and I found two strange books in the reading desk. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were in league with dark gods, the stuff in one of those books looked suspicious.” Remind me never to underestimate women. “Now stop dissembling and tell me what you’ve been whispering about with Marc and Dorian.”

  “I doubt you’d believe it. Maybe it would be better if I showed you,” I replied. “Go close the curtains; this will be easier to see if it’s darker.” To her credit she didn’t ask any questions although she did look at me oddly as she pulled the drapes shut. “Come sit on the bed with me, this will take me a moment.”

  “I saw that earlier if that’s what you want to show me,” she said sarcastically.

  “Just hush for a second and let me concentrate.” I had read through the first few days of Vestrius’ apprenticeship last night and although I hadn’t studied the Lycian vocabulary yet, his journal included the first few words he had learned, and their application. I closed my eyes and tried to relax my mind. I held up my hand and cupped my palm. “Lyet” I vocalized and focused on the empty air in my hand. A warm glow formed there, dim but visible, rather disappointing. “Lyet!” I said again, putting more force into it. The light flared becoming a brilliant incandescent ball too bright to look at. I closed my eyes but the glare was strong enough to show through my eyelids. Penny’s response was more interesting.

  “Shit!” She leapt backwards across the bed and fell over onto the floor on the other side. That made twice she’d landed on her backside in less than an hour. I left the ball of light hovering there in the air and moved to help her up. Truth be told I hadn’t figured out how to move it yet, I’d had enough trouble working out how to turn it off last night when I tried it the first time.

  Everything looked strange in the harsh white light, it cast shadows that made her face seem strange. The worst part was the fear I saw in her eyes. I could only imagine what I must look like in the glare. “Now you see why I had such trouble telling you?” I tried to smile, to put a familiar face on, to reassure her, but that only made it worse. She was backing away, edging toward the door.

  “Wait Penny, this isn’t as bad as you think. Here, let me put out this light, then I’ll try and explain better.” I gestured at the light, “Haseth” The light went out abruptly plunging the room into relative darkness since our eyes were still accustomed to the glare.

  I heard her give out a yelp and then there was a loud thump. That would be the divan I’ll wager. There was a loud knock and the door flew open.

  Marc stomped into the room, “Alright you slugabed, its high time you got up! If you sleep any longer… huh?” Penny ducked past him and ran from the room. My eyes were finally adjusting to the dimmer light and I could see Marc staring at me from the doorway. I’ll be the first to admit things didn’t look good. The bed was a complete mess, with blankets still on the floor. The divan had flipped over onto its side. I knew it was the divan, I thought to myself.

  “Was that Penny?” he asked turning in a circle.

  Oh damn! I knew it had to be her he was talking about last night, and this looks bad. My thoughts were racing, “It isn’t what it appears.”

  “And what would that be? That you’re chasing the staff around your bedroom with the curtains drawn in the middle of the day?” He seemed a bit miffed but not nearly as much as I would have been if I thought someone was poaching my game. “Listen Mort, I know known Penny a long time but she’s been through a lot recently. You shouldn’t give her a hard time. I meant to tell you this earlier but she lost her Ma not long back and since then…”

  Obviously I was destined to travel from one misunderstanding to the next in this life. “No, no, no! I was explaining my situation to her and it upset her.” It took almost ten minutes to describe what had happened. It would have been quicker but he has a bad habit of interrupting.

  “So you came straight back here a
nd immediately ignored our promise to wait?” He was shaking his head.

  “That pretty well sums it up,” I said this with my most charming smile.

  “You understand I had to tell my father that we were up drinking late last night and you passed out from an excess of wine?” he replied, pointedly ignoring my overwhelming charisma.

  That took the wind out of my sails, “He probably thinks I’m a drunkard now eh?”

  “I doubt that Mort, but he certainly thinks you can’t handle your wine,” he gave me an evil grin. “Come on, I told Father I’d fetch you up before our noble guests start arriving.” Since I was already dressed we headed for the door, but I did pause to set the divan back on its legs.

  As we left he turned to me, “And if I ever find you chasing Penny around your chambers again I’ll toss you out on your ass. The other maids I might forgive, but Penny is special.”

  “Dammit I told you that’s not what happened!”

  Marc winked at me, “I know, it’s just fun to see you get flustered. You know, now that I think on it… if it had been some other maid, I don’t think the misunderstanding would have bothered you nearly as much.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean,” I snapped back.

  “Nothing my friend, nothing at all.” He put his arm around my shoulders as we walked down the hall. Well he tried; I’m still taller, so he had to settle for thumping me between the shoulders.

  Chapter 5

  Rarely, some are born with a moderate to high emittance but with a low capacitance. This trait occurs with no more frequency than one in a hundred. Those born with it usually do not become aware of it until puberty, when their bodies begin to mature, although occasionally it becomes active even earlier. The primary trait found in those with a high emittance is known to the common folk as ‘the sight’. This refers to their ability to sense and see things of a purely magical nature. They sometimes manifest precognitive abilities or other forms of prescience and clairvoyance. Most become mystics, soothsayers, and fortune tellers. Some enter the clergy or priesthoods of various religions as their ability allows them to channel the powers of their gods. Thus are born the legends of ‘saints’. Such would likely have been my own destiny if fate and my own intellectual curiosity had not interfered.