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Wandmaster

Page 3

by Valerie Kramboviti


  At the base of the rock walls were caves, and John could see people, as small as ants, milling around their openings. In the centre of the plateau was a structure, shaped and coloured like the crystal, which had brought him there with smaller replicas joined to it to form an elegant temple-like building of many towers. They started their descent and eventually reached the level of the plain, and as they continued towards the caves, people came out and watched, pointing and talking among themselves. Gilladen marched directly for a large cave opening, outside which stood two tall stone pillars, white and smooth in contrast to the slate grey of the rocks all around. Two armed men stood at the opening, their spears crossed, barring the way.

  "Guardian Gilladen brings the Wandmaster," reported Gilladen, halting in salute.

  'The who?' thought John 'Is that supposed to be me?'

  From behind the crossed spears appeared two more guards, and from within the dark halls behind them, a figure dressed in ornately decorated black leather. He was a strongly built man with thick white shoulder-length hair. He struck his chest with his hand and bowed his head smartly at John.

  "Raise your spears," he ordered the guards and then he addressed John, "You are welcome here Wandmaster John Stone, please enter." Gilladen nodded to John to precede him and the guards allowed their passage. John moved stiffly forward, unsmiling and hesitant, and Gilladen introduced him.

  "Wandmaster John Stone, I present to you the Chief Guardian, Overseer of Order in the Realm, the Lord Menoneth." Besides still being in a suspended state of comprehension, John was unused to meeting people in authority and was unsure how to respond, so he mumbled a "How do you do," which seemed very inappropriate as soon as he had said it but Lord Menoneth smiled kindly at him and reached to take his hand in greeting.

  "Come inside, you must be tired and thirsty after your journey, Gilladen will show you to your quarters where you can wash and rest a while and then we will talk and you must be presented to the Council." With that, Lord Menoneth turned and walked away, followed by his two guards, and Gilladen tapped John's arm, motioning to a side-corridor and led the way along it.

  Still in a daze, John followed his guide along the corridor, noting that there were openings in the ceiling of the tunnel allowing light to enter and also alcoves, which glowed softly in the walls creating a warmth and feeling of comfort he would not have expected. After a short walk, they stopped outside a door on the left, which Gilladen opened and then stood back for John to enter. The soft lights were present here too, and they outlined a room, carpeted and complete with bed and dark wooden furniture. There was a homely atmosphere, if somewhat different from his own modern flat, and he relaxed a little as though the room itself had welcomed him home.

  "There is a water chamber through that door, and you will find fresh clothing in the closet there," said Gilladen, pointing to a small wooden door in one of the walls of the room and a large carved wardrobe. "I will be back to collect you in about an hour. Rest well friend," Gilladen smiled and left, closing the door behind him.

  Alone for the first time since entering the crystal, John heaved a huge sigh and let his voice out of its strangled tension.

  "What in all hell is going on?............. What am I going to do?.................. this can't be happening!........ I must have lost my mind or something!" John tried to slap himself awake but he couldn't; he was already awake. He sank down into the comfortable chair and closed his eyes to try to think straight. It just couldn't be real. Is this what madmen felt, he wondered, totally sure that they are sane but trapped in an impossibly insane daydream? After about ten minutes when no amount of pinching or rationalising had changed anything, John got up and went to the water chamber; which he would have called the bathroom. As he opened the door, the sound of running water met him and he saw that his idea of a shower fell far short of what greeted him there. He had his own personal waterfall, spilling out of a source just about head height and filling a rock pool set in the floor. The water tumbled and splashed joyfully and he put his hand in the spray. It was icy cold. He let out a roar when he first got under the stream of water and his breath stuck in his chest, but it refreshed him in no time and he stayed in as long as his flesh would bear before coming out. His w.c. was fed from the constantly running water pouring from the rock pool so there was no need to flush. He was impressed he had to admit.

  He dressed in the clean shirt and trousers left for him and put the leather jerkin back on again, surprised at how comfortable it felt. The two belts he left off for the time being and he lie back on the bed to wait for Gilladen to return, his tiredness washed away in the cold sparkling water and also some of his tension. His senses were alert and he tried to accept the here and now and to face the fact that there was nothing he could do to change his current situation, so he would have to come to terms with it. This outlandish adventure was running its course, whether he liked it or not and he was evidently a major participant in it. There was still a chance it was a dream and that he would wake up and find himself asleep in the chair at home, but that seemed to him to be getting less and less likely by the minute. He tried to remember everything that had happened to him in sequence, and closed his eyes to concentrate. He was musing on his cut finger, which had healed so miraculously and the name "Wandmaster" given to him by Gilladen and Lord Menoneth when he heard the door of his room open. Expecting to see Gilladen, he lifted his head and focused on the doorway. There stood a young woman, leather clad in soft brown with a long braid over one shoulder and eyes like pools of dark water, smiling at him studiously. John stared back, pouting in surprise.

  "Who are you?" he asked abruptly. He was being rude, he thought, and stood up hurriedly, holding out his hand. "I'm John, John Stone," he completed.

  "I know who you are, Wandmaster, John," said a musical voice, "and since you ask, I am Guardian Jazlyn." She took his hand in hers and John 'connected'. He couldn't put it any other way, just like he had with the crystals, a contact somewhere inside, a vibe, an awareness. He looked at her dumbly, still holding her hand and she laughed gently, removing it and smiling warmly.

  "Are you rested?" she inquired.

  "Yes, thanks," he replied, "And you?" He knew he was tripping over his tongue but had lost his way a little in the darkness of her eyes.

  "I had no need of rest," she replied, "My duties were light today."

  "Oh. Good," nodded John, not knowing what else to say.

  "Mmm," she nodded approvingly. "Shall we go?"

  John thought 'Anywhere with you!' But said in his most manly voice "Lead the way...... Jazlyn."

  They walked side by side in the dim warm light and John was a happier man. He sneaked as many glances at Jazlyn as was decent and took absolutely no notice of anything else around him. When at last the footsteps at his side paused, he saw that he was at a very large double door, again with two guards outside, crossed spears barring the way.

  "Guardian Jazlyn to present the Wandmaster to the Lord Menoneth and the High Council." The guards stood aside and pushed the doors open to allow them to enter. The hall was majestic; tall and sculpted with pillars of stone at the outer walls, while in the centre of the room was an enormous table surrounded by heavy wooden chairs, all of which were occupied, except two, one at the head and one at the foot nearest the door. Jazlyn led him to the vacant chair nearest the door and instructed him to stand until her Lord entered and then she left. He felt very inadequate, but he stared ahead of him resolutely, his heart racing, his mind in turmoil and his legs turning to jelly by the moment. He had never been one for the limelight, in fact, he hated being the centre of attention. Nonetheless, here he was, with all eyes on him, and having no idea what was expected of him or why he was there. It didn't seem like he was going to be treated badly; in fact, everyone seemed to be treading on egg-shells in his presence and calling him "Wandmaster." There had to be a mistake here somewhere and when he got a chance to explain to these people they had got the wrong man, everything would be sorted out a
nd he would be home before he knew it, he comforted himself. A tiny voice at the back of his mind was whispering doubts about the crystals he had received and a certain William Stone, but he was determined not to listen. When Lord Menoneth entered the hall near the head of the table, everyone else rose and in unison chanted "Honour to Lord Menoneth." When Lord Menoneth took his place, they all took their seats. John followed suit, grateful for the support of the chair.

  Lord Menoneth, who had remained on his feet, raised his hands for silence.

  "Good evening, Council Members. You are all aware of the presence among us of our new Wandmaster, John Stone, and I would like you now to greet him and welcome him to our realm."

  "Honour to the Wandmaster," came the chant from all in a single voice.

  "Um, no, you seem to have made a mistake," John began, but Lord Menoneth had fixed him with his commanding eyes and said, "You have been formally greeted by the Grand Council of the Realm, Wandmaster John Stone, and a fitting reply is expected." There was a stern note of reprimand, and John felt like a schoolboy caught cheating in a test and felt it wise to be as respectful as he could manage for the time being. He would have his chance to explain later, he hoped. John didn't know the formal reply so he borrowed the greeting and returned it, saying "Honour to my hosts," which seemed appropriate, certainly better than "How do you do" he thought, and sat down again. Lord Menoneth smiled and John assumed he had momentarily avoided Menoneth's displeasure and any consequences that might have followed.

  "The Wandmaster comes at a time of peril for our realm when our enemies are striving to create disorder and destruction. He has come to add strength to our struggle against Ataxios, his growing armies and the foul beast, The Akryd, and it is only through the Wandmaster that there will be any hope of our survival."

  John listened in alarm. His hair stood on end on his neck and head, and panic was growing with every word Lord Menoneth uttered.

  "The Wandmaster must lead us through these evil times with the power of the wand which fate has placed in his possession and we must follow him and support his efforts. We pray that our realm will be spared and that through us, other realms will be able to resist and win through against the evil that also threatens them."

  Lord Menoneth was studying John's face closely and was clearly aware of the effect his words were having.

  "Wandmaster, I know that you have been brought here from your world against your wishes, and I also know that you had, up to this moment, no idea as to why. One of your blood was aiding our cause, Wandmaster William by name, and he still adds his strength to ours and to yours also. It was he who passed on the burden of the wand to you, but, unprepared even as you are, we ask that you do all in your power to aid us. No-one else can. You are the Wandmaster now and until your passing, the Wandmaster you will remain. You have no choice in this; it is an inevitability you must learn to accept. All of us are dedicated to helping you in any way we can and, in fact, you are the reason we are all living here in this settlement. We have been awaiting your arrival, and we cannot allow you to leave us in these troubled times because you are essential to us and you must understand that if we fail in our task, your world will also feel the consequences." John was in a cold sweat, his head in turmoil, but Lord Menoneth was looking at him, awaiting an answer, as were all the others in the hall, and John knew he had to reply.

  He stood up slowly, and his voice was unsteady as he replied.

  "Lord Menoneth, I am John Stone, plain and simple John Stone. I have no gifts or talents to offer you and I am here by accident. I can't accept the responsibiility you place on me. I think William Stone must have made a serious mistake in his judgement in choosing me, you see, he never even met me and I strongly advise you to find another 'Wandmaster'. It can't be me. Not only do I not want to be this 'Wandmaster' person, I am not suited or able to be. I would gladly hand over everything my relative left me to someone else. Please help me to return to my world. I can see that you have very difficult times ahead, but don't honestly see how I can be part of them. I am nobody, nobody at all and if the future of your realm or my own world depends on me, then I'm afraid the battle is already lost." John saw anger, disappointment and hopelessness on the faces around the table. Voices muttered, heads shook and John wished with all his heart to wake up in his armchair at that moment, but Lord Menoneth held his eyes.

  "You are the Wandmaster, whether you accept it or not. You were chosen through your bloodline and by the previous Wandmaster, and if you can't help us, we are lost. There is no other with your qualities. At the moment, all this is new and unbelievable to you, but in time you will come to see there is no alternative to what fate has decreed. The wand is very powerful and you will learn to use it wisely with practice, but this responsibility cannot be denied or passed on to another. Fate is fate and yours is to be the Wandmaster."

  John sat down heavily and said no more. He was unable to take in what was being said and felt hopelessly trapped and unwilling to believe he was anything other than John Stone, a clerk in Prowess and Dibbs in his unexceptional suburban life in the world he had grown up in and knew to be real and substantial. Nothing made sense and he was shaking as he stared at the table in front of him, his hands resting on it, limp and useless. The meeting broke up and John found himself looking into the face of Menoneth standing at his side.

  "Sleep tonight, Wandmaster John. Tomorrow we will meet in the temple and you will begin your preparation."

  "The sacrificial lamb?" asked John

  Menoneth smiled wryly and answered "No, hopefully the ravaging lion."

  He felt rather than saw Jazlyn standing behind his chair waiting to take him back to his room, and he rose and went with her. Her presence was comforting but his spirits were very low and he trudged along at her side without speaking or looking at her. She touched his arm before leaving him at the door and whispered

  "Bye for now, Wandmaster."

  "John," he replied, "just John."

  He removed his belts and leather jerkin and lie down between the clean sheets. He had been on his feet all day and should have fallen immediately into a deep sleep but so much had happened that his head was thumping with trying to take it all in. His stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten either and he knew there was no way he was going to sleep on an empty stomach and an overfull head. He sighed, got out of bed and seated himself in the chair beside the dimly lit alcove. There were no external windows, but from somewhere sweet fresh air was circulating in the room. He closed his eyes and took deep soothing breaths, trying to calm his jangling nerves, and would have succeeded if his stomach hadn't been rumbling so much. He heard a soft knock on the door and he sprang to his feet, his heart racing and his breathing becoming silent as he listened for the next sound. His senses were keen and he was alert. He heard the knock again, and to his surprise, he could feel who it was. A slow smile spread across his face."Jazlyn," he breathed. He moved across the room, opened the door and was not disappointed on two counts.

  Food! John gratefully accepted the tray she offered him and said

  "I was beginning to think no-one eats around here."

  "Oh, we eat Wandmaster," she smiled "and we apologise for keeping you hungry till now, but sometimes the head is clearer on an empty stomach, and Lord Menoneth wanted to hear your thoughts before you broke your fast." Her face was troubled and it was clear she had learned of John's words to the Council.

  "I spoke the truth," he said firmly and held her eyes.

  "I believe you spoke from the heart, Wandmaster..."

  "John," he corrected her.

  "John," she said with discomfort. Then in an outburst of feeling, added "But I believe you were not sent to us by accident but by the workings of fate, and you should at least try to believe that because you are so important to us that if you reject your role, fate will be unable to work for us. Do you understand? You will block the workings of fate and we will be thrown into confusion and disorder, which is exactly what Ataxios wants, it's
what he's trying to bring about!" She was speaking quickly, as though trying to find the courage to get the words out before she lost her nerve.

  "Fate and order don't make good bed-partners in my experience," said John. His analogy struck him as bold in the close proximity of those dark eyes, and he was amazed at his own ease in producing it. "Fate is an unknown, chance-luck series of events, whereas order is papers in a file, records well kept, knowing what comes next, things like that. Chalk and cheese, oil and water, fate and order are completely different."

  Jazlyn was staring at him with such intensity that he lost his train of thought; put down the tray he was holding on the table beside the door, reached out and stroked her cheek with his finger.

  Her dark eyes widened in surprise

  "I must go," she said and drew back out of the doorway.

  "Must you?" John probed "It seems to me we wouldn't be lost for topics of conversation and I would welcome some company while I eat." He stood aside and waved a hand into his room, his eyes now burning into hers.

  She smiled, a womanish smile, a wonderful smile, but shook her head and looked at him with her head tilted and a twinkle in her eyes.

  "I have a feeling Wandmaster John Stone that if I come in, I might find it hard to get out again!"

  "Call it fate," teased John, "Didn't you tell me I shouldn't reject what fate puts in my path?"

  "Fate," laughed Jazlyn "can wait! Enjoy your meal and goodnight." She was gone and John stared stupidly after her for a while. When he closed the door eventually, he thought about how he had behaved. He had flirted outrageously with her, something he had never done with any woman before. He wasn't sure he had been good at it, but he had made her uncomfortable. He remembered the tilted head and the little smile and he grinned to himself as he took the cover off the tray. There was a chair at the table and he settled down to eat with appetite, bread, cheese, fruit, milk, some green salad; just right for a late supper. Things weren't so bad here after all, he thought, but as the glow of Jazlyn wore off, the words of Menoneth came back again, John's heart sank once more and his fears returned.

 

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