Smoke whinnied, and Darras followed his gaze. There was a pretty little Asian girl sitting towards the front. Couldn't be more than eleven years old. Darras walked the horse over to her, and presented his lance to the young lady.
“Smoke likes you, and he's a better judge of the ladies than I am. May I ask for your favor, M'lady?”
Maci, surprised but delighted, quickly found a white lace handkerchief and tied it around his lance. The crowd was delighted as well, with the possible exception of a few of the single women.
Ladies' handkerchief in hand, he road back to the jousting lane and prepared for the joust. The child's handkerchief brought him luck. The very first pass, Darras rode down the course and easily unhorsed his opponent. The opposing knight was knocked out of the saddle with such force that it caused the crowd to gasp. It was easy to see what had earned Darras the nickname, “the hammer.” Darras' good luck continued. His next opponent also was cleanly unhorsed and Darras easily won the day.
After the match he walked Smoke back over to the little girl and handed her back her handkerchief.
“My sincere thanks, little one. You brought me good luck. Any special occasion today?”
Maci could hardly speak, but Marcus answered.
“It's her birthday.”
“Well, happy birthday, little one,” Darras smiled. Ti gave him her program and a pencil and he signed her program for her.
“Could I touch Smoke? I know he's a warhorse,” Maci asked very politely.
Darras frowned, considering. Smoke was a warhorse and usually that wasn't a good idea. Still, Smoke did seem to like her and the little girl was polite.
“Ok, just for a second and only because it's your birthday,” he said. Smoke was trained to bite, but he seemed to like this girl, so Darras was willing to risk it.
Maci slowly and gently reached out and gave Smoke a quick gentle pat on the head. Then she drew back and said "thank you" politely. Darras bowed to her and rode off.
Later that night, Maci put the autograph and her handkerchief in a place of honor on her wall.
∴
Some months later, Tiberius was back at Dallen’s abode in Sherwood City. Passing though the front hall, Tiberius met a young man in a green tailcoat suit with glasses and a dusty blonde goatee. He had a matching green hat on which would have been perfect, if shrunk, for a leprechaun. Tiberius thought he looked rather like a civilized Robin Hood. He found him in the hall in front of Dallen’s clock poking at it with a small screwdriver.
“Hey, that tickles!” the clock said.
“And you are?” Tiberius asked. Anyone in a tailcoat struck him as either a dandy or a salesman. He’d heard tailcoats were all the rage back in the Old World, but they’d never really caught on in the Stewardship.
The young man spun around, a bit flustered, but smiling nonetheless.
“Russell, Russell Smyth. Sorry, the clock here is just so fascinating; I just couldn’t resist a little peek inside the workings. I’m expected.”
“Ah, you’ve come at last,” Dallen said, entering the hall. “Russell, this is Tiberius; you’ve heard me speak of him. I expect he’ll be teaching you magical self defense when you are ready for that. Heaven knows I’m having a time staying ahead of him. Russ is joining us for his studies.”
“Oh, more math lessons?” Ti asked.
“That and other things,” Dallen said. “Russ is the son of a noted jeweler in the capital. Some of his work is quite magical already. I thought we might advance that part of his art.”
“Yes, I told Dallen that what I really wanted was a way to fix broken hearts. He thought he might be able to help me with that.”
“Welcome aboard,” Tiberius said. A magi could be a snappy dresser if he liked. “Hope you’re ready for the ride.”
Dallen started Russ on a tour of his workshop. Ti followed for a bit. It was always worth a quick peek at what contraptions Dallen was working on. Tiberius had learned the basics of magical craftsmanship by now, but he couldn’t touch Dallen’s skill at making magical artifacts. He was glad to see Russ arrive, if only for that reason. Someone else should be able to follow more directly in Dallen’s footsteps.
One contraption that Dallen was working on caught his eye. He had what looked like some sort of loom set up with what seemed to be mechanical spiders of various sizes working on weaving some type of fabric. The smallest spiders seemed hardly the size of a pinhead, yet they had a curious mechanical gleam. He wondered what on earth Dallen could be making now. He decided not to ask, though. Russ and Dallen were already well into clockworks and Ti did have a schedule to keep.
∴
Tiberius went back to his studies in the capital. He was in the student lounge one day when another student, a friend of his named Paul, came in and waved a newspaper at him.
“Did you see this? There was a dragon attack down in the city-states,” Paul said.
Tiberius glanced at the paper. “Yes, I heard about this. He sticks his nose out every once in a while. He’s pretty clever, really. He generally grabs gold from disputed sources. He kills other raiders, other dragons; here you see they were having some sort of argument about whose gold it was. They were knocking each other out over it and now neither one of them has got the strength to go after a dragon for it.”
“He attacked Sherwood City, though didn’t he? Some sort of unusual gold shipment?” Paul asked.
“That’s right. He’ll attack a big target if the money’s right. He didn’t get any that time though.”
“That’s right, you lived in Sherwood City. Did you see the attack?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Hmm, I don’t know why he bothers. I’ll bet he’s already got a ton of gold to sleep on by now,” Paul said, wondering.
“Dragons don’t comprehend the meaning of ‘enough gold,’” Tiberius explained. “They lust after gold. They always want more.”
“If you killed a dragon, do you get to keep the money?” Paul wondered.
“Why, are you going after him?” Tiberius laughed.
“No, just curious. I mean you always hear about people catching one sleeping or something.”
“I think, realistically, you’d get to keep about half of it.” Tiberius said. “Dragons are pretty old and gold is gold. You’d never be able to figure out where most of it came from or if he got by any of it legitimately. There’s bound to be a few claims though, and taxes of course. Not really a money making proposition, though, when you consider you have to fight the dragon for it. That’s a class five dragon you know.”
“Class five? There’s more than one type of dragon?”
“Oh, yes. A five’s fully intelligent and able to use magic. A four just breathes fire and is intelligent, but it can’t work magic. A class three isn’t intelligent, just fire breathing. Below that you have worms and dragonets.”
“I see. What’s above a class five?”
“Nothing, I hope. A class six would be a lesser deity, like the dragon in Revelations. A five’s bad enough.”
Summertime came and Tiberius moved back in with Dallen, at least for the first part of the summer. Towards midsummer, Messura came by again and Tiberius was told he’d be taking a trip down to Walsingham to stay with Messura for the rest of the season. It would be a chance to focus on his healing skills, an important part of the magi’s art.
While Tiberius was off packing, Messura had a private audience with Dallen.
Dallen was seated behind his desk in his private office; Messura just stood giving his senior a searching glance.
“Must you stare?” Dallen asked at length.
“You’re looking tired, old friend,” Messura chided.
“There’s always so much to do,” Dallen said briskly.
“The old longevity potion is starting to fail. If you want to try and live forever maybe we should try something else. Something a little more permanent,” Messura said.
Dallen gave Messura a glance over his glasses. “I don’t wish to
live forever, Messura. I’m just not quite done here. A few more years should be sufficient. Then I can move on to other adventures.”
“How to live longer, that I can tell you. How long to live, well that you and God must decide.” They were interrupted by the noise of a trunk moving down the stairs. “You have great hopes for him,” Messura continued.
“More than you know. He’s a handful to keep up with. He’ll have you looking up healing spells you’ve all but forgotten.”
“Teachers always learn more than their students,” Messura smiled.
“I shouldn’t count on that,” Dallen said with a smile.
∴
A few days later Messura was showing Tiberius around the city of Walsingham. Tiberius had actually been here once before with his father, but Messura knew all the ins and outs of the great city.
Walsingham was an interesting town. It was a trade town built on the side of a river. By boat you could go up to the elves, across the ferry to the city states, or down river to all sorts of other exotic ports. It had large and very well kept walls. If an attack was made on the Stewardship proper, this would be the spot. It was the biggest city near to the border province of Vonair. It was a market town and vendors from all over came here. This was the first time Tiberius had seen large numbers of dwarves. There were also some occasional elflings, leprechauns, and other fairy folk about. He even saw a centaur once. Goods of every description were available in the market place. Some goods were of curious origin. Where, for example, did anyone get ‘Indian tea’ around here? It was rumored that Alfaran mariners smuggled certain goods from the Old World to the merchants in the Anderheim, but no one had ever proven it. But then most folks thought it better not to ask.
Messura’s second home was St. John’s Hospital of Walsingham. It was a large group of buildings overlooking the river. The hospital was one of the wonders of the Stewardship. A series of hanging gardens had been built in and among the hospital, so almost anywhere you looked you were surrounded by visions of beautiful plants and flowers. Most of the work of the hospital was done by clergy, but there were also lay healers here, and Messura, who seemed to have a special place. He also saw some Alfaran physicians about. It was wonderfully restful just strolling about the grounds. There usually was soft music playing here, too. Musicians would often stop by, and when none of them were about wondrous dwarf-made music boxes would fill the air with gentle, chiming tunes.
Messura led him on a tour of the grounds. “I hear they have wondrous machines for medicine back in the Old World, but I truly believe there is no better place in the universe to be healed than St. John’s of Walsingham. We expect miracles here and so we see more of them. The Alfaran lords may have cursed us with the ban, but here they bless us by sharing their knowledge of medicine and healing herbs. They had been cultivating special plants and herbs for thousands of years before we Sons of Adam even discovered penicillin. They’ve taught us the arts of curing even viral infections. Would you believe that back in the Old World they actually drill into teeth to heal them? Here we re-grow the tooth; we don’t tunnel into it and fill it with silver, like some twisted reverse silver mine.”
“I’ve heard of that, but I’ve never seen it,” Tiberius said.
“It’s a frequent problem with wash-ups,” Messura said. “I see it all the time, people wash-up from the Old World here on our shores and once we dry them off we must fix their teeth. It can be a bit jarring for some of them to wake up and find their teeth healthy again. Quite a surprise for some if they don’t see a dentist and only start using our toothpaste. But I don’t think you are here for dentistry; that is something of a specialty. Let’s see what is happening in the emergency room. That should be more in your line. What is happening is nothing, I hope, but I am always disappointed in this.”
Entering the emergency chamber they found a couple of patients about. There was a laborer from the town who’d had his hand crushed by a wagon. A clerical healer was carefully dressing the wounds and splinting the broken bones.
“Can’t you use a spell to heal that, or have one of the clerics call for a miracle?” Tiberius asked.
“You’ll see many miracles, here, my friend. Healing was one of Christ’s greatest gifts, and here he shares it with his disciples. But we find it is generally better not to rush things. There is more to an injury than just the physical damage. A day or two of rest allows the body to take time to work with God’s will in healing most injuries. It also gives time for the mind to recover from shock and for contemplation on being more careful around heavy wagons in the future. But what have we here?” he said, observing a little girl who had just come in crying. Her mother was with her and hardly looked better, but it was the little child who had blood over her arm.
A nurse led them to a seat. Messura stopped a moment and turned to Tiberius. “So, tell me, how would you handle this?”
“It looks like she’s cut her arm. A cell regeneration spell should handle it,” Tiberius answered.
“Yes, I thought you’d say something like that. I don’t doubt you know the spell, but there is music to play first. You must learn the art of healing. There is more to it than spells. Come, we have a patient to attend to. I will tell you when to try some magic.”
Messura went over to the little girl.
“Now, why should you spoil such a beautiful little face by crying?” he said.
“Mommy dropped the knife and it hurt my arm,” said the little one though her tears.
“That’s awful,” Messura said. “Let me see. Oh my. This is terrible. We will have to do something about this. This is my young student, Tiberius. He has been studying some of our healing arts. Is it all right if he tries to help this? I will watch and make sure he does nothing wrong.”
“Ok,” said the little one. Her mother nodded agreement and then Messura nodded to Tiberius. Ti did the spell as instructed and he saw the cut heal before his eyes. Messura was not done yet though. He took a clean cloth, dipped it in water and washed off the wound. Then he gave her a piece of chocolate. “Nancy, here, will show you a bit of the gardens. You and your mother have a nice cup of tea and look at the pretty flowers for a bit. Then you will fell much better.”
“It doesn’t hurt now.”
“Good. I’m very glad. But now you go and rest for a bit; you will feel better still.”
They watched them go and then Messura turned back to Tiberius.
“You know the spell well enough. But don’t forget that Jesus cried with Mary before he brought her brother to life again. There is more to healing than medicine, my young friend. Now come, let's continue our tour.”
They came to a room where an elderly woman was sleeping.
“What’s wrong with her?” Tiberius said.
“Cancer,” Messura said.
“Can’t we do something?”
“Usually yes, but not with this one. Sometimes, my young friend, you will see that God has chosen to call someone to his side. Then none of our magics or remedies will succeed. We are not in charge of the universe; He is. With one such as this, we can only make her comfortable. She will dream in peace until God is ready to reach out his hand to her. With her, I can do no more.”
Messura led him along. They walked in respectful silence for a time. Messura led him to one of the gardens. They stood a moment just listening to the fountains. After a long moment, Messura spoke. “Come, we need an antidote to your melancholy.” Leading the way to another section of the hospital, they came to brightly lit room with beds and flowers all about. A woman was lying there, obviously expecting.
“Clairvoyance, properly controlled, gives us an advantage in checking on the health of the littlest ones. This is Mrs. Shepherd; Emily, this is my young student I mentioned. It’s her first little one and we’re going to make sure everything is alright.”
Tiberius cast the clairvoyance spell as he’d been instructed. He was surprised to find himself looking on the face of the tiniest little infant baby, still nestle
d in his mother’s womb.
He couldn’t help but smile. “He looks wonderfully healthy,” he said.
“He?” the mother answered.
“Oops, am I not supposed to say?” Tiberius answered the mother’s eager face. “Would you like to see?”
“Can I?” She said.
“If you don’t mind a bit of magic.” Ti had to think for a moment. He’d often done illusions of things he’d seen. Doing one of something he was seeing in his mind's eye was just a bit tricker, but holding his staff he made the right gesture, and then a three dimensional image of the infant was floating above the mother.
The mother gave out a nervous laugh. “It is a boy. I didn’t know he would look so alive.”
“The first heartbeat occurs soon after the lover’s embrace,” Messura answered. “A matter of a few short days. There are miraculous changes at the very moment of conception.”
“It’s a miracle,” said the woman. “It’s horrible to think anyone could think of trying to hurt such a creature.”
“Some people are very foolish and never stop to listen to the sound of a human heartbeat,” Messura explained.
It was a fascinating summer and Tiberius learned a lot about healing, even more about what he was trying to protect. The little baby and its mother would hardly make a decent snack for a full fledged dragon, he thought, yet that dragon would kill them both without a moment’s hesitation.
∴
Alternating between the various lessons in life, academics, wisdom and magic, the years in graduate school passed quickly. Ever the most interesting lessons were those Tiberius learned at Dallen’s side.
“What was the first church meeting to list the twenty-seven books of the New Testament?” Dallen asked in one of their Friday afternoon quiz sessions.
“That was the Synod of Hippo in 393 A.D.,” Tiberius answered.
Path of the Magi (Tales of Tiberius) Page 20
