Aeromancer

by Don Callander

  “Poor man,” Myrn sighed, shaking her head. “Oh, I know he brought it on himself. But... what’s to become of him?”

  “Word is, among the Sultan’s Guard,” said Hana, entering with an armful of colorfully wrapped gifts, “that Father will be sent to the Northwest Land. His task, which will take him some years, is to survey the area for the Sultanate around the great new crater lake, to determine if it’s worth developing, either as a place for the Sultan’s people to farm or raise flocks or as a possible mining site.”

  “That was Litholt’s suggestion,” acknowledged Flarman. “Just put those presents in my bag, my dear. I’ll hand them out when the time is right, you may be certain.”

  “What’s to happen to you, Hana?” wondered Myrn.

  “Weep not for me,” the girl said, giving Myrn a warm hug. “I’m to remain with my beloved Nioba and learn to be... whatever I am fated to be, I suppose.”

  “And forsake your papa?” asked Marbleheart, who was not all that sympathetic to the former Grand Vizier, if the truth was known.

  “It will be my responsibility to keep an eye on Father. He’s really not a bad sort, for all the times he neglected me for his ambitions. I still do love the old rascal! Between us, Lady Nioba and I hope to mellow his haughty ways and bring him home in good time. He really was a splendid Grand Vizier, everyone agrees. But he was brought up in ways that modern Samarca has rejected, you see. He’ll have to learn to change!”

  “Kalinort’s nothing if not intelligent,” Flarman added. “If anyone can reform his ideas and make him useful to the Sultanate, it will be Trobuk and his goodwife. And you, my dear child!”

  “I’ll try very hard, Lord Wizard, for all our sakes,” Hana murmured.

  “Well, I’ve an idea, then,” said Myrn, perking up at the thought. “In a half-year or so the Camel Merchant Farrouk and his wife, my very good friend Shadizar, and their lovely children plan to voyage to such fascinating foreign places as Waterand Isle, dear old Flowring Isle, New Land, and Highlandorm ... and of course, our beautiful Valley of Dukedom. I shall suggest to Shadizar that she bring you with them. You’re of the right age, just, for foreign travel, my dear! And you should get away from all this business of being alone so much of the time. You’ll love the children, too, I know.”

  “I can hardly tell if she’s pleased or disappointed,” chuckled Marbleheart after the delighted young lass had turned four unladylike cartwheels on her way out the door, chortling gleefully as she went.

  ****

  Two of their party had decided to remain in Samarca for awhile.

  “I know Myrn will pass Examination with flying colors,” Cribblon explained to Douglas. “Serenit wants me to accompany him on a visit to Port, of which he saw virtually nothing. He hopes to arrange for selling New Land timber to the Merchant’s Guild. He could do it just as well by himself, but... well, we both feel we’ve some catching up to do on an old friendship.”

  “You’re not jealous of Cribblon?” Douglas asked the First Citizen.

  “Not at all! I’ve never been so happy as I am as First Citizen. And Cribblon really needs some experienced guidance. He’s surprisingly naive for one who will become a powerful Air Wizard.”

  “He’s eager to assume the burdens of Wizardry,” Douglas agreed, nodding his head slowly. “As for you, Serenit... to be blunt in the most friendly possible way, some people just don’t have what it takes.”

  “No one knows it better than I,” the First Citizen said with a hearty laugh. “And even without my old spells and magicks, perhaps I can help Cribblon on another task. The good Sultan has asked him to study the great wind-and-sand storms that plague his eastern provinces.”

  “Maybe we can at least provide some way to predict them better, further in advance,” added Cribblon eagerly. “Nobody should fool around with the Powers of Air... as my Master once taught me.”

  “Your own Examination for Advancement to Full Wizardry ...,” Serenit said to the Journeyman.

  “A while off, yet, I fear.” The middle-aged man sighed, smiling shyly. “I’ll learn ... but I always seem to take a long time for that.”

  “Nonsense!” cried Myrn, who’d returned to hear this last bit of conversation. “I’ll speak to the Examination Board about you, you may be sure. We couldn’t have succeeded here without your sure craft, your wisdom, your gentleness, and ... so much more!”

  “I’m deeply grateful for your words, Myrn,” the Journeyman said, bowing deeply in the manner of the Nearer East to cover his pleased blushing. “I’ll come to Wizards’ High after a while. We’ll be busy until then.”

  “So will I,” Myrn Manstar Brightglade assured them all.

  As they stepped into the hot morning sun in the Great Entrance Courtyard at the front of the Sultan’s palace, Myrn saw a familiar face in the crowd of courtiers and their ladies.

  “Groat!” she cried out. “I thought you were with Shadizar in Port!”

  “No, the Sultan ... well, I’ve been offered a new position on the Sultan’s staff.”

  “Marvelous! I’m so happy for you, old friend. Here’s my husband, Douglas Brightglade. Groat is a very good friend from Port,” Myrn explained to her husband. “I’ve told you about him.”

  “Many times,” said the younger Pyromancer with a laugh. “Most pleased to meet you, Master Groat...”

  “Grand Vizier Groat,” said the young man, grinning enough to split his face in twain. “His Supreme Majesty, the Celestial, the Ever-merciful, the Sultan ... and so on and so forth ... has asked me to serve him in place of the old Grand Vizier, who left to seek a healthier climate last evening.”

  “You? Grand Vizier!” cried Myrn. “Well, I think Trobuk has made a very wise choice. You’ll do perfectly, young Groat! Grand Vizier Groat, I should say.”

  “I sense a fine, Aquamantic hand behind that promotion,” said Douglas to Myrn as they prepared to join hands with the rest for the fastest possible flight home.

  “You think that I... ? Really, Douglas! Trobuk is completely capable of picking his own court officials.”

  “I’ll not be too far away, so if you like I’ll keep an eye on the young Grand Vizier,” said Lesser Dragon, who had heard the exchange.

  “Very nice of you to offer,” murmured Myrn, patting the Dragon’s cheek-scales fondly. “No, I think Groat is the perfect choice for the post. He’ll have few, if any, political connections with the Coastal Sheiks, for one thing, to distract him from his duty. Good-bye, good old Lesser! Where are you off to, if we may ask? Back to the buried temple in the desert?”

  “Eventually. A very cozy and suitable house for a Dragon, I always found,” replied the great beast. “No, I’ve promised Princess Indra I’d return to her at Indigo Deep. She and the young poet Saladim will marry next spring, and I am to be her chief sponsor after her father, the flying horse!”

  “A strange wedding party, that,” chuckled Marbleheart. “But a wedding I would love to attend, Masters!”

  “Might be!” said Douglas with a pleased nod. “If my wife can pass the Examination for Advancement to Full Wizardry. Or maybe, even if not!”

  “I will hold you to that, husband,” teased the Wizard-candidate. “Be sure of that! Give little Indra my deepest love and tell her we’ll stand with her when she’s married, Lesser, fiery old friend. A promise!”

  “I certainly shall tell her that,” the Dragon told Myrn. “Now, farewell! I see the older Wizards are awaiting you. Call on me anytime, dear friends—I’ll come to you! Great-great-great-granduncle Great Golden has often told me of your very pleasant Valley.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Home is Best!

  Myrn paced beside midsummer-quiet Crooked Brook and crossed the ancient, rickety Plank Bridge to walk into the fragrant shade of Precious’s apple trees They were already heavily laden with green fruit.

  “Mama sad?” little Brenda asked Marbleheart.

  The twins, having spent several early-summer weeks with their paternal grandparents
on Farango Waters, were as brown as berries. They were paddling their bare feet in the cool shallows just above the plank bridge. Marbleheart had been naming the fishes for them, mostly brook trout, which swam nearby ... but not too near.

  “No, not sad! Not at all. It’s called apprehension. Or is it anticipation?” explained the Sea Otter. “Look, you cubs! There is a school of pan-sized perch. Delicious fired with butter with a pinch of salt and a dash of pepper.”

  Brand lay on his back on the grassy bank, watching the bright bluebirds in the willows overhead.

  “Mama looks sad,” Brenda insisted.

  “Go across to her, then, and make her smile a bit,” suggested the sleek Otter. “How about a swim, Brand, old man? You need some work on your backstroke.”

  “Swim!” chortled the boy, leaping up to strip off his shirt and short breeches. “Come, Brenda!”

  “No,” said his sister, rising. “I want to give Mama a hug and tell her we love her.”

  “I’ll come along shortly, then,” Brand promised, unwilling to give up his swim. “Where’s Papa, Marbleheart?”

  “Auditing the Examination Board,” the Otter answered. “That means he’s listening, not being a member of the Board himself.”

  Brand said, “Ummmm!” not knowing what all the Otter’s big words could possibly mean.

  “They’ll have their decision before too long, m’boy. Not to worry!” Marbleheart said confidently. “I’ve known your beautiful, smart mama for a long, long while, and there’s just no way she could fail her Advancement to Wizardry.”

  Douglas came from the double front door, spoke briefly to Bronze Owl, who was hanging sleepily (although, in fact, bronze doorknockers never sleep) from his favorite nail in the center of the right-hand leaf, and walked down to watch his Familiar and his son splashing in Crooked Brook.

  Nearby a class of Neriad children—newly come with their families to live, at Flarman’s invitation, along the Brook that watered Valley—chanted lessons about bugs and butterflies and midsummer flowers.

  Douglas gestured to their instructress, a brown-and-gray robin hen, not to stop for him. Concentration was broken, however—as you might expect when a famous Fire Wizard comes along in the middle of a class—and the tiny beings waved and called to him as he passed.

  “Well, then,” said their teacher, bobbing her head. “Perhaps we’ve been at this long enough, nestlings. Who’s for a visit to the Fairy Well?”

  “Oh yes! Yes, let’s,” the dozen tiny sprites cheered.

  In a moment they were off, flying behind their plump teacher and calling out to friends they met along the way.

  “Where’s your mother, fish-boy?” Douglas called to his son, who was riding Marbleheart’s back in the deeper water under the bridge.

  “Over among the apples,” Marbleheart replied for the child. Brand was wholly preoccupied with a family of water-walkers skating by on the stream’s smooth surface.

  Douglas crossed the bridge before he saw his wife and daughter seated together on an old wooden wheelbarrow Precious had left in the orchard.

  “Green apples make the very best apple pies of all,” Precious was known to say. The barrow stood ready for the time when the apples were more fully formed.

  “Green apples ...,” Douglas said, standing before his wife and daughter. “I love ‘em, but they’ve been known to give little girls the golliwogs!”

  “Never!” Myrn laughed. “Not old Precious’s apples! I made a total mess of it, didn’t I?” she added sadly, looking off toward the orchardman’s pasture and the low, blue southern hills beyond. “Well, I can always try again. Flarman took his Examination four times before he finally passed, Augurian told me. And my Master admits to five attempts!”

  “True. But you won’t have to take it that many times. You and I are lucky, love—we’ve had the best Wizardry teachers in World.”

  “Well... maybe next time,” Myrn said with a sigh.

  “There will be no next time,” Douglas said firmly.

  “What? No second or third testing! Why not?” cried Myrn in sudden consternation.

  “No need, passed-Water Adept!” Douglas laughed, kneeling to embrace and kiss both his daughter and her mother.

  “Oh!” Myrn sobbed, sudden bright tears starting from her lovely Sea-green eyes. “Oh!”

  “Now you’ve been duly bussed and unofficially informed, I’m to bring you up to the cottage for official notification,” her proud husband said.

  “In a moment!” sniffled Myrn, accepting his handkerchief and wiping her happy tears away. “Thank you, my oh-so-wonderful Douglas!”

  “No thanks due to me, m’lady!”

  “I mean for helping, but I really mean for being such a good friend and lover and husband and father to our children. All of the above!”

  He pulled her tight into his arms and dried her salty tears of joy and relief with several more kisses.

  Brenda giggled and tugged at her father’s long tunic sleeve.

  “Me!” she begged. “Kiss Brenda!”

  Douglas swooped and bore his daughter aloft, placing her on his broad shoulders, despite the rather grimy fingers she wove into his fair hair. She smelled of summertime childhood, of applewood, the lush green grass growing along the Brook, and of sweet milk, and oatmeal cookies, too.

  So burdened, Douglas took Myrn by her arm, then went to pull their naked son from Crooked Brook and hustle him into his blouse and breaks.

  “It’s all over,” Douglas told Marbleheart.

  “Which means,” Marbleheart chuckled, “knowing things around here, that new things are just about to begin to happen.

  “Dinner first, however,” the Sea Otter added, following the Wizards Brightglade and their whooping children across the lawn to the front door.

  “Congratulations, Water Adept!” Bronze Owl called to Myrn. “Here’s the whole cat family, fresh from a new littering and eager to say they knew all along you’d pass, first crack out of the box.”

  “It seems everyone knew except me,” Myrn sniffed happily. “Thank you all! I could never have—”

  “Aquamancer!” shouted Flarman Flowerstalk, erupting from the front door like a cork from a bottle. “I must say you did even better than your rather dense husband did. Ask your Master! He’s the best teacher of us all.”

  Litholt Stonebreaker came out to embrace the newly passed full Wizard, and helped her shed a happy tear or two, smiling all the while. Then tall, stately Augurian came down from abovestairs and added a dignified tear or three to the occasion, and a loving embrace and several kisses, too.

  From the High’s cool and cavernous kitchen came the sound of Blue Teakettle leading the kitchen utensils in a rousing cheer.

  “Pecan pie and vanilla ice cream now,” announced Flarman. “Full banquet tomorrow night! Marbleheart’s already invited everybody for miles around and, he says, Queen Margot and Prince Aedh and the little Faerie Princeling are coming, too.”

  “It’ll run rather late, I’m afraid.” Augurian sighed, “I should get back to my studies at Waterand... but another week or so won’t matter.”

  ****

  The two young Wizards watched the sky begin to turn light gray over Far Ridges as they sat close together on the stone curb of Fairy Well.

  A deep purple predawn quiet held Valley in its lap.

  Somewhere a meadowlark trilled, far off toward Trunkety Town. In the byre next to the Wizards’ workshop under the High, the cows and their calves, always early risers, were beginning to stir, waiting for milking, for breakfast, and for their day in the sun.

  In the deep blue western sky, near the horizon, above the setting Morning Star, a single, red dot of light flashed brightly for a long moment, then disappeared forever.

  “The Servant’s reached his... her... its safe haven, I see,” Douglas murmured to his wife.

  But Myrn was sound asleep, dark head on his broad shoulder, hands clasped in his, still smiling.

  About the Author

&nb
sp; Donald Bruce Callander

  1930 -- July 25, 2008

  Don Callander was the best-selling author of the 'Mancer series and the Dragon Companion series. Don originally worked as a travel writer/photographer and graphic designer before retiring to start his writing.

  Don was born in Minneapolis, brought up in Duluth, Minnesota, and graduated from high school there before enlisting in the U. S. Navy in 1947. After serving four years on active duty (including the Korean War) he transferred to the Naval Reserve where he served as a 'weekend warrior' for twenty additional years.

  He settled in Washington, D.C., where he married, raised four children, and worked on the Washington Post newspaper and in National Headquarters of the American Automobile Association (40,000,000 members!) until his retirement in 1991.