Path of the Magi (Tales of Tiberius)

by Stuart, Richard J

  “You know Michael Okubo. Those are my two boys, Marcus and Tiberius. This is Dallen of the magi,” he said, presenting the old man to his sons.

  “A magi?” Tiberius blurted out in surprise. It came out rather louder than he meant, but the old man seemed to take no offense. He just smiled.

  “That’s right, just like in the Bible,” Dallen said, facing him.

  “Sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to be rude; I just didn’t know there still were any magi about,” Tiberius replied.

  Dallen gave him a smile and a nod of the head. “Magus is the singular, but yes, members of my order still exist. We still follow Christ and give such wisdom and gifts as we can,” he replied.

  “A bit flashier than they used to be,” Julian noted grimly.

  “It’s been nearly two thousand years since the birth of Christ,” Dallen answered. “I’d like to think we’ve made some progress in our art in that time.”

  “Hopefully your advice has improved,” Julian said. “I seem to recall that conference with Herod got a bunch of innocents killed.”

  “We gave him accurate and important information about the birth of a great man. What Herod did with that information is on his own conscience,” Dallen answered, unperturbed.

  Julian just grunted, then turned and hopped up on a small box so he could address the assembled troop.

  “We’re going to arrest some witches. I’m hoping this won’t be difficult, but I’m not taking any chances. The constable has looked into it and they’ve already got a proper coven assembled. They could be calling a demon on our heads at any time. It’s a matter for the army then. Dallen here is a magi and he’ll be helping us out, especially if they do manage to summon up any sort of a demon.

  “I will assist as I can,” Dallen said to the crowd. Lowering his voice, he faced the senior Fuller. “If you really want my advice though, I’d say to send the troop home. A few picked men could handle this quietly.”

  Julian shook his head. “If we embarrass the witches, so much the better. I know it’s probably just a bunch of stupid girls with too much time on their hands. But we live too near the fairy country to tolerate this sort of fooling around. They are playing with things they don’t understand, and I’ve seen firsthand the result of such mischief. Cities burned, people cursed. No, I’m not for making things easy on them.

  “Besides,” he continued, “it’s good for the troop to have a real call up. We’ve all heard the rumors about goblins, or worse, threatening the town. The troop might even be needed tonight. Folks can get in pretty deep pretty quick sometimes.” He turned then to the troop. “We’ve a ways to travel and we want to arrest them in the act at midnight, so let’s get going.”

  Julian went ahead with Dallen and some of the older companies. Tiberius fell in line behind Captain Michael Okubo. After a couple of hours of marching, they came to a crossroads and were told to rest a minute. His father appeared again to give instructions to their captain.

  “Michael, I want you take the south road just past the Witherspoon’s farm, then cut north cross country. Spread out your men. I’m going to approach from the north. If they come to you they’ll come running from us, so be ready to catch them.”

  Captain Okubo just nodded. Tiberius sat admiring his father’s planning. Back in the war, he knew his father hadn’t been known for personal fighting, but for the clever movement of troops. He’d out-maneuvered troops of the northern rebels and thus taken the witch queen unaware and killed her. Ti’s father told them little of fencing or archery, but he had always talked to them about what really made great captains of war: the need for strategy, planning, logistics. He’d made them read copies of Sun Tsu and histories. Many nights he’d faced his sons on the chess board. Only by learning the ability to think seven moves in advance could they hold their own against him. He had little fear of tonight’s outcome, no matter what unholy powers these witches had managed to gather.

  After a rest, they moved down past the Witherspoon’s farm. There Captain Okubo called them to a halt and had them gather around.

  “Silence,” he said. “You all know how to hunt. Today we hunt again. We hunt the most dangerous prey of all, our brother men. So be careful, and be silent. We walk in line till I give the signal. Then we spread out. Two ranks, six feet between men. Everyone understand? Good. Let’s go.”

  Night had fallen now, and the company moved silently into the woods. Captain Okubo’s silence was infectious. He seemed to glide across the forest, leaving no trace or noise in his path. Ti had been hunting with Captain Okubo and his dad a couple of times, and he'd always been impressed by Captain Okubo’s skills.

  Ti had heard a lot of strange war stories from Captain Okubo, but this was the first time Ti had really seen him in action. He moved with great grace and cunning, and for the first time Ti started to think that his old war stories might actually be true. At one point Ti heard a noise and tugged on his arm.

  “I think something is following us. Off to our left,” he said.

  The captain just nodded. “You spotted that, did you? Good. It’s an elf.”

  “An elf?” Tiberius whispered, astonished. “What’s he doing here?”

  “I don’t know, but he’s not in league with the witches. Probably just curious as to what we are up to. Pay him no mind. You won’t see him unless he wants you to. I’ll deal with him if we have to.”

  Ti nodded, but couldn’t help sneaking a glance to his left now and then. He saw nothing, heard almost nothing, yet he could sense there was something out there.

  At last Captain Okubo gave the signal and they spread out, creeping into their positions. The men now formed a net across the light woods. Nothing would get past the company.

  Suddenly their captain ducked down and signaled others to do the same. It was nearing midnight now. Ahead in the distance they could see a bonfire burning. Ti could dimly make out a dozen or so figures dancing in a circle around the fire. Captain Okubo was looking on with a spyglass. He motioned Tiberius up next to him and handed him the spyglass so he could see more details.

  It was rather disgusting, he thought. Those people were all stark naked. They were dancing about with a dead cat, smearing the blood from the cat over themselves in strange designs. They were chanting something, but he couldn’t make out what. One woman was at the center of the circle dancing in a particularly lewd fashion. He saw someone take a bite out of the dead cat and he handed the spyglass back to his captain in disgust.

  Okubo smiled at him. “It gets uglier than this, my young friend,” he whispered. “Those at least are all volunteers. Later they will sacrifice children, not just cats. They’ll feed babies’ blood and virgins’ honor to their demon lords.”

  “I don’t think Mom will be inviting them round for tea,” Ti answered.

  Tiberius wondered what his dad was waiting for. Surely they had seen enough to arrest them by now. The chanting was growing louder and more intense. Suddenly there was a burst of fire in the center of the ring. A man-like shape with horns and wings was starting to appear. Just then there was a blinding blue flash and the creature suddenly seemed to be sucked into the earth, vanishing from sight. The witches all cried out in horror. Then the cries of his father echoed over the forest. “Stand where you are. You’re under arrest!”

  Witches started running every which way. Most were arrested on the spot as Julian’s carefully positioned troops closed in the net. A few came towards the south where Captain Okubo and his men were stationed. Captain Okubo shouted “Stay here,” at Tiberius and left his side. He watched as the captain swiftly overtook two witches in turn. With almost effortless ease he tripped up one woman, then sent another sprawling to the ground. He had their arms lashed in a flash.

  It was such a masterful performance that Tiberius nearly forgot to look up himself. He turned just in time to see one of the witches running nearly straight at him. Tiberius grabbed her arm as she tried to run past him.

  “Hold on there, Miss,” he said. In spit
e of what he had seen, he was inclined to be polite. The woman wasn’t so much older than himself and she was a woman after all. No knight makes war on a lady, but he did have a duty to stop her.

  In spite of her nakedness, Ti didn’t feel any particular lust for her. She struck him as more animal than woman. Her body was rather skinnier than he’d have preferred and it was covered in dirt and dried blood. Her hair was long and unkempt, like the mane of some wild beast.

  The witch didn’t take to Tiberius’ attempted detention, so she swung around and immediately clawed into his face, making deep, painful scratches with her fingernails. For a second it worked, as Tiberius released her in shock and surprise. Then an anger flashed in him. Forgetting about her being a lady, he grabbed her shoulder, swung her around and gave her a solid right hook. The witch dropped down like a sack of flour under the blow. For a moment Tiberius was concerned that he’d killed her, but after a moment, he saw her breathing. Okubo, Marcus, and the others quickly came up beside him.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know I shouldn’t hit a lady; I lost my temper.”

  His father came and lifted the woman up. “What the devil are you apologizing for? You were supposed to arrest her,” he said as he threw a blanket over her shoulders and led her away.

  Dallen had come up beside him.

  “Let me look at your cheek,” he said.

  “It’s nothing, just a scratch,” Tiberius said.

  “Possibly,” Dallen answered. “But I should like to be sure. It’s not unknown for these women to use poison.”

  Dallen held up a small crystal and beam of bright light emanated from it and flashed over Tiberius’ cheek where the scratch was. He looked carefully over the cheek then nodded with satisfaction. He made another gesture then with his hand and said some foreign word that Tiberius didn’t quite catch. Tiberius felt a tingle in his cheek and the pain was suddenly gone. Tiberius felt his cheek and there was no trace of the wound. He had a thousand questions, but Dallen just turned away with wink.

  Suddenly someone was clapping behind them. All turned to look to where a tall elf lord stood next to a bay horse. He had long blonde hair, and was dressed in elaborate brown leathers.

  “Truly an epic battle!” he cried out. Taking out his lyre, he strummed a few stray notes. “I shall have to compose a epic poem about this great battle for my lady. Bards will sing of how Tiberius Fuller, son of the famous witch slayer, felled with one blow the witch of the wood.”

  “How now, Lord Gillyian?” Dallen answered. What brings you to this side of the river?”

  “Is it not obvious?” Gillyian laughed. “My mistress and lady sent me to observe this great day as was foretold by prophets. Tiberius the Great’s first battle against the epic legions of evil, a sight not to be missed.”

  Everyone burst out in laughter, save for Tiberius, who simply flushed with embarrassment. No, there was one other exception. Dallen wasn’t laughing. He was giving Lord Gillyian a penetrating stare.

  “I guess Dad needs to talk to you a bit more about how to handle a naked woman,” Marcus jested.

  Gillyian rode off as mysteriously as he had arrived.

  “He was joking, wasn’t he?” Tiberius asked.

  “With the elves, who can say?” answered Captain Okubo. He had laughed with the rest, but now he gave Tiberius and Gillyian thoughtful looks.

  They decided to camp out in the woods rather than make the long walk back to town at night. The next day was Saturday, after all, and no business would be done with half the town out in the field anyway. They made the trip back the next morning without further incident, unless you counted Marcus and the other soldiers’ increasingly wild versions of how Tiberius had handled the terrible witch. At one point this even drew a mild rebuke from Captain Okubo.

  “Laugh if you like, but remember the young master did his duty. There are men who have run from witches before this, and with good cause,” he said.

  ∴

  By ten the next morning it was time for church, and the town had calmed down some. The battle with the witches was destined to be more than a nine day wonder, but at least most of the town had gone on from Tiberius’ fateful encounter to discuss other aspects of the situation: who were the witches, what were they doing, would they be burned, and so on.

  Even Pastor Adams seemed to get caught up in the news. He preached a rousing sermon on the evils of witchcraft. Pastor Adams had a long drawn out face like someone had pinched his nose and pulled too hard when he was young. He was practically bald, but he knew the scriptures and the hearts of men well.

  The large stone church was a bit stuffy on this early summer day, especially as Tiberius was clad in a hand-me-down Sunday best ruffled shirt and black jacket. But he managed to get caught up in the sermon all the same.

  “Why does God forbid the practice of witchcraft?” Pastor Adams railed from behind his pulpit. “Is it because God doesn’t want us snapping our fingers and having gold and riches appear at our command? Indeed not! The scriptures say that God will provide for our every need. He himself fed the 5,000 with bread and fish. Would he say we are evil if we follow in his footsteps, giving food to the poor at every turn? I say no.”

  “When did Christ or his disciples speak against magic? Was it when others started using his name to cast out demons? No, for Christ said that he who is with us is not against us. Was it when Peter first laid eyes on Simon the Sorcerer? No. The scriptures teach us it was when Simon tried to buy the secret of Peter’s magical powers from him that God’s wrath turned upon Simon. You see, that was the true insidious evil of witchcraft: making the world serve our needs, rather than we being at the service of others.

  “Power never comes cheap. Those who serve God must be ready to leave family and home behind. They must take up their cross and serve God. Witches take another path. They look to false gods, animal sprits or even Satan himself. Or worse, they make themselves god, reducing God to symbols or some secret that they can control and make do their bidding. Flee that path. Serve God and God alone. Remember the most important commands of God are to love Him with all your heart and mind and soul. Do that, and love your neighbor. Keep your eyes to those goals and you will be free from the desire for black magic in your hearts. You’ll have no fear from witches for they will flee from you.”

  Tiberius listened with interest. He’d long known that the practice of witchcraft and sorcery were things prohibited by the Bible, but he hadn’t considered why they were prohibited before. What was magic anyway? Wasn’t feeding 5,000 people with a handful of fish magic? He’d thought it was just something that God did and the rest of us didn’t. But Pastor Adams had some interesting points. There had to be a source of power for “magic" after all. Witches were evil because they were turning away from God to gain their power. That was just stupid, Tiberius thought. Didn’t they know who God was? Who Jesus was? He was the way and the truth and the light. He was the source of love and compassion and knowledge and everything good in the universe. No power was worth turning your back on that.

  The sermon ended with a warning from Pastor Adams to beware of charlatans, which were all too common. Even here by the borders of the fairy lands, it was more common to find frauds claiming to have great powers for sale when they had none, than the real thing. Tiberius saw about as much real magic as the typical New Yorker saw drug dealers. One knew they were really out there somewhere, but mostly heard about them in the news. It was rare one actually saw true magic. When the sermon ended, the family went up and greeted the minister. Afterwards there was the usual socializing, and Tiberius went up to Pastor Adams with a question.

  “Reverend, I was talking with Mr. Okubo about the Old World. He says they don’t have magic there. Yet we have witches and goblins all the time here. Why do you suppose that is?”

  “Magic and miracles seem to go in and out of season to some extent,” the pastor explained. “When Christ first sent out His disciples there were miracles at every turn. Yet when Christ Himself
came to his own hometown, He could do no great works there due to their lack of faith in Him. I don’t really know why we hear of so little magic from the Old World these days. But I know magic and miracles are everywhere. It’s just that sometimes miracles are bigger and flashier than at other times,” the pastor answered.

  It was more to think about. Pastor Adams was a good friend and Tiberius enjoyed talking with him. Tiberius was a bright lad and a good student of the Bible. Pastor Adams was always glad to answer his questions. Recently he had started Tiberius on the Apologetic writers, so he could better appreciate the Bible.

  After church, Tiberius joined his brother and everyone else in town at the firing range. All able-bodied men were required to spend a portion of Sunday afternoon at clout shooting, practicing the use of the longbow. Tiberius wasn’t as great a shot as Mr. Okubo, but he was improving and he’d already won a couple of small prizes for archers of his age. Mr. Okubo led their team in the group shooting, calling out the ranges as the assembled group of archers fired at circles on the ground. This was good fun, but also serious military training. If goblins or raiders ever did dare to attack the city, they’d find plenty of well trained archers able to lob a storm of arrows their way.

  Afterwards they switched to target shooting, practicing more direct fire archery techniques. These were more useful in hunting than war, but productive training for either. Julian had promised to take his boys hunting again soon.

  While standing at the ranks, Tiberius heard a small warning from his brother.

  “Uh-oh, I’d run for it if I were you, Ti,” he chided.

  Ti finished his shot. It went slightly wide of the bull’s-eye, to his annoyance. He thought for a second that Marcus was just giving him grief, but he saw his eyes looking down the road.

  He followed his brother’s glance and saw a pretty young woman, Marybeth Conner, approaching. He smiled her way, but she did not return the smile.