Wizard's Blood [Part One]

by Bob Blink

  “The top of this hill flattens for several miles. Our path will break away about halfway across the top,” the other answered.

  Breathing hard, Randy narrowed his focus and put one foot in front of the other. Jolan, he reminded himself as he continued up the hill, breathing mostly through his mouth. I’m now Jolan.

  Asari had explained to him the problem with his name, and suggested Jolan as a safe alternative. They had engaged in a long discussion which had made the miles go easier about his use of two names. Sometimes he thought the young man was playing with him, but he made a strong case for the pointlessness of the second name. Every argument Randy presented why a second name was useful was countered, not that it mattered. Here people didn’t have a second name, so it would make little sense for him to have one either. It would be an anomaly that would certainly gain them possibly unwanted attention. Still, he knew it would take time for him to react normally to the new name. Asari had told him he would try and use the new name to help him adjust. He let his mind wander as he walked. There were so many things he was curious about. Sometime later his thoughts were brought abruptly back to the present by Asari’s sudden exclamation.

  “Here,” Asari had exclaimed. Randy/Jolan hadn’t noticed the trail had leveled because his mind had been puzzling over the three moons. He and Asari had gotten talking about them the previous evening.

  From what he knew, The largest moon, Serine, was much like the moon of Earth. He guessed it had the same rough size, and while the period was a bit different, had to have a similar relationship with the planet. The middle sized moon, Kinor, was hard to figure. He suspected it was smaller than it looked based on the period he was deducing from Asari’s observations of the object. The shorter period suggested a lower orbit, and hence it would appear relatively bigger compared to Serine because it was closer. The smallest moon, Zeirr intrigued him. He couldn’t help wondering how high above the Roche limit it orbited. It had to be above or it would have been ripped to shreds by tidal forces. Still, the extremely short period suggested a very low orbit. He tried to think what he would need to know to calculate a few things. He smiled. Shit! He had no real idea of the size or mass of the planet, and for that matter who knew if the universal gravitational constant was even the same here. Maybe that constant really wasn’t. After all, something was different here as witnessed by his own abilities with magic, which were clearly much different here than at home. That got him wondering about the fine structure constant, something that had been a subject of discussion in one of his undergrad classes. Maybe if things worked out he could set up an experiment to test some of the discussions that he remembered.

  Asari’s interruption brought his attention back to the trail. The boy was indicating an alternate direction, roughly sixty degrees to the way they had been heading. Nothing specific marked the spot, but then the path they had been following all day was simply one of many possible paths through the trees in his opinion. Damn but he missed trails and trail markers. He followed Asari, who was already fifty feet or so ahead, and making his way through thicker than usual brush.

  Gradually the land started downward, making the going easier. Each half mile made it clearer they were headed downward, and before long they came to the edge of a steep cliff. He caught up with Asari who was looking ahead, and who pointed the way they would have to go.

  “That way,” the boy said, pointing to a rocky section that started not too far below them.

  “It looks like a rock slide,” Randy/Jolan said. “Is it stable?”

  “I last crossed it three years ago. It doesn’t appear to have changed. It was fine then, although we will have to pick our way carefully through the rocks. It will be slow going.”

  He sighed. “Okay, let’s get started before I get too comfortable. My legs are already starting to relax just standing still.”

  “We should camp here,” Asari countered, pointing to a tree-shaded spot not too far away. “It is getting late enough the shadows will soon make the climbing more treacherous. I don’t think we can make it to the bottom before the sun starts to hide behind the mountains. We can rest here and start off again in the morning.”

  Randy/Jolan nodded. He didn’t mind at all. He also suspected the boy had an ulterior motive. He hadn’t said anything all day, but the glances at the pack containing the handgun had become more frequent, and he knew he’d half promised the boy a chance to actually fire the gun today. The spot Asari had selected would provide a magnificent view, but was also adjacent to a convenient depression that would serve to contain any noise they made, not that the wizards should be anywhere close enough to hear.

  Asari’s arms trembled slightly as he held the pistol out in front of him, his sharp young eyes focused on the front sight as Jolan had urged him. He was annoyed at the trembling, but he couldn’t help but be excited at the chance he was being given.

  “Practice your dry firing,” Jolan had said. “I’ll set up a target for you to shoot at.” So saying, he had headed back to the steep dirt hillside they had selected to shoot at. Both wanted to be sure they could capture the spent bullet given the potential value of the copper it contained.

  “Jolan had returned a few minutes later having placed a small piece of notebook paper with a crudely drawn bullseye in place on the hill, held in place by a couple of small sticks pushed through the paper and into the hillside.

  Now it was Asari’s chance to see what he could do. He flicked on the safety and lowered the pistol, and then turned and grinned at Jolan.

  “By the Dragons,” he said self consciously. “I’m nervous.”

  Jolan smiled. “Take your time. We all are the first time. Just don’t let the recoil frighten you. It’s a bit unexpected, so it catches you off guard.”

  Asari raised the pistol again, and released the safety. Carefully he aligned the sights on the piece of paper again, and was pleased to see he was steadier than he had been a moment before. It was very important to him that he perform well. He really wanted to impress his friend. Carefully he applied pressure to the trigger as he had in practice. This was going to be easy he thought. The sights were remaining steady on the target.

  Blam! The gun fired suddenly startling Asari more than he would have expected. He looked at the paper a mere fifteen paces away and saw nothing. He thought he could see something had hit a few inches off to the side, but knew he had closed his eyes when the gun fired in response to the noise and recoil even though he thought he’d been prepared for both.

  “Dragon spit,” he cursed, knowing he had missed. It was embarrassing. He looked sheepishly at Jolan, and removed the magazine. They’d only put a single cartridge in the magazine. A precaution he’d been told. Jolan had explained that sometimes a new shooter would grip the pistol in such a way he couldn’t help but fire off a series of rounds in response to the sudden recoil. They didn’t have precious rounds to waste.

  Slipping the pistol under an arm, he pulled another cartridge from his carry bag and slipped it into the magazine.

  “Not bad for a first time,” Jolan said, suddenly standing beside him. “Now you know what to expect, it’ll be a little easier.”

  Asari only nodded, uncertain what to say. He would have expected criticism not the words of encouragement he’d received.

  Magazine loaded, he pressed on the lever that released the slide and chambered the round.

  Once again, he took careful aim. After a few moments the gun fired a second time, and Asari actually saw the impact of the bullet. He’d barely hit the right edge of the paper, but at least he’d not missed completely.

  He had one more round he could shoot. They’d agreed on three shots. That was all they could waste against future need, and had been balanced against the supply of copper it would yield. Not knowing the actual amount of gold they could expect from the copper in a single bullet, Jolan had wanted to be sure they had enough to cover expected expenses.

  “You’ve one more,” Jolan encouraged.

  Asari
shook his head. “I want to save it. Now that I know what to expect, maybe after I practice dry firing more I can do better. Is that okay?”

  “Jolan smiled at him and nodded his agreement. “I won that bet,” he said.

  “Bet?” Asari asked confused.

  “I thought you might want to save your last shot. Come on. Let’s have a look and see if we can find the bullets.”

  Together they walked over to the hillside. Asari could see now where his two attempts had struck the hill. The second he’d already seen had hit on the right edge of the paper. The first was also on the right side a couple of inches further out, but woefully far from the center of the paper he’d meant to hit.

  “That’s not bad,” Jolan said again. “Look, the two hit only about four inches apart. I’m pretty certain I couldn’t do any better.”

  “But I missed.”

  “Let me explain a couple of things. First, the sights on this old clunker may not point where it actually shoots. A good modern .45 auto would have much better sights, and would be tuned so the sights are close to the impact point. On these old guns, which were mostly used for close in point and shoot range defense, you don’t know where the sights might be pointing without actually putting some time in on the range. That would mean shooting a lot of rounds to see if they all go in the same place, and how that relates to the point of aim. We can’t do that, but the two rounds you fired are reasonably consistent. I’ve seen people at the range scatter their shots with a much larger separation, and they are supposed to have practiced before. You have nothing to feel bad about.”

  Asari beamed when he realized Jolan wasn’t just trying to console him. Eagerly he used his knife to dig into the soft soil and probe for the bullet. The dirt was loose and flowed out of the hole easily, and before long he had the two slugs in his hand. One was a bit deformed from striking a rock that was buried in the dirt, but that wouldn’t hurt its value any. With the two cases they had picked up, and the copper from their encounter the other day, they could trade for at least five golds; an almost unbelievable sum to Asari.

  As they made their way back to the camp, Asari once again offered Jolan the opportunity to try out his bow, but the other declined saying he had used bows back home in a physical education class where he learned his efforts led to bloody fingernails, a sore inner arm from the bow string, and a long series of poorly placed shots.

  “I’m curious about something,” Jolan asked as they walked. “What is this thing you have with dragons?”

  “I’m sorry,” Asari replied. “Some consider my calling on the dragons profane. In Kimlelm, despite the fact there is no formal religion, many of the people still look upon them as lost gods. I’m sorry if it bothers you. I’ll try to stop.”

  Jolan raised his hand to stop the boy and shook his head. “Doesn’t bother me a bit. You should hear me when I get wound up. But why dragons? Are there dragons here?”

  “There used to be,” the young man answered slowly after a moment of careful thought. “They’ve been gone a long time though.”

  “Real, fire breathing, fly-through-the-air reptile type dragons?” Jolan asked doubtfully?

  Asari nodded. “They were larger than a dozen horses, and had magical powers that far surpassed those of men. Dragon magic was different, and they could do things humans could only dream of. They taught us the ways of magic when we were a young race and at risk of being wiped out.”

  “I can’t imagine something that big and lacking any aerodynamic shape being able to fly. How big were their wings?”

  “Not very big. They could fly because of their magic, not because of the wings.”

  “What happened to them?”

  “It is not known for sure. Some say they performed an impossible feat of magic to help the wizards that weakened them greatly. Then they were betrayed by the war wizards and forced to flee. Supposedly they headed across the great oceans to a land men have never seen, but found it inhospitable and due to their weakened condition died on their attempt to return. Some stories tell that a few of the strongest made it back, but they chose to forsake mankind and went into hiding. These stories say they will return one day. This was long before the Mage Wars, so little is known for sure.”

  “Stories?” Jolan asked, looking over at his young friend.

  Asari couldn’t hold back any longer and burst into laughter. “I had you there for a minute,” he said, as he tried to contain himself.

  “So it’s the same as Earth. A bunch of fantasy tales to amuse people, mostly children, but not real?”

  “I don’t know,” Asari said, suddenly serious. “I would like to believe there is something behind the tales. My father thought the dragons had existed. One of the things he searched for was evidence of their passing. In one place we visited, far from here in the wastelands of Angon, we found the remains of an immense mural in the destroyed remains of a long forgotten city that depicted such a creature with a human riding upon it’s back. Why would they have put such effort into such a creation if there were no substance to the scene? I’ve always felt there was something special to the stories, and I’d like to believe the dragons were real and are still out there somewhere.”

  Chapter 8

  It was well they had waited to make the descent through the rock slide until morning. There was no clear direction, leaving them to make their way as they chose, and the path was steep enough they naturally fell into a pattern of switch-backs to lessen the rate of their descent as they picked their way among the rocks. Finding large enough rocks which were firmly planted and not subject to twisting out from under them to step on was often a challenge, and after a few hours they stopped for a break when they found a flat area with a bit of shade.

  “Let me understand something,” Jolan said after they had been sitting a bit. “Last night you mentioned Kimlelm. Is that another totally separate country?”

  Asari nodded. “It is one of the four independent realms that make up the Settled Lands, although unlike the others it has a government that is headed by a ruling council chosen by the people. All of the others have royal families that control their respective governments.”

  “So Angon is ruled by a king as well?”

  “That’s right. King Otar has ruled well for more than thirty seasons. The people are very loyal to him. He is supported in his rule by the Council of Nobles, the Council of Mages, and the Royal Court. Sadly, the situation cannot last too much longer.”

  “Why is that?”

  “He is old, and must pass before too much longer. He has two children; a son and a daughter. The son is from his first marriage, and is a strange one. He is wild and uncaring of the people. His mother died suddenly and was seen as ‘possessed’ by many, who were quite happy to cheer her passing. The daughter is the offspring of his second wife, who was the complete opposite. She was much loved by the people, but also passed some ten years ago, a victim of the bleeding sickness that took many that year.”

  “I sense the people aren’t anxious to see the son elevated to the throne. Can the daughter be raised to the crown instead?”

  “I think the king would prefer that, but the rules are quite specific. The eldest child must be given the crown, so long as he or she lives and is physically able to rule.”

  “So much I don’t know,” Jolan said with a sigh. ‘You must help me understand this land before we reach our destination.”

  “Here is not the place,” Asari said. “We will have ample opportunity to discuss these things in the coming weeks. This is the barest beginning of our journey.”

  “Swell. How much more of these rocks?” Jolan asked looking dejectedly at the path ahead of them.

  “They end there,” his friend said, pointing to a group of trees that hid the land below down the hill and off to the right. “It’s about half as far again as we have gone already.”

  Struggling to his feet, Jolan signalled the other to lead the way. The prepared trails he was used to were nowhere near as taxing as this
seemingly simple patch of hillside.

  Walking became much easier once they cleared the slide and entered the trees that had been pointed out earlier. The ground was soft here and well padded by needles from the trees, which as an added advantage kept the sun off their backs. Looking back the way they had come, Jolan was surprised to see how high the cliffs towered above them. They had descended a long way from their camp of the previous night, and while he couldn’t see the valley they were headed towards, the path led steadily downward.

  It wasn’t too much longer when a steady thundering roar could be heard through the trees, growing and fading in volume as the twists and turns through the mountain took them into side paths, and back out onto the side of the incline. An hour later they made a turn, and the roaring became so loud Jolan felt like his insides were shaking. Asari led them onward, unfazed by the sounds, pointing out their direction because it was so difficult to talk. Finally, Jolan could see the thunderous waterfalls he’d been hearing for so long.

  The water raced over a large rock ledge and fell at least two thousand feet to the misty pool far below. Other than Niagara he had never seen such a wide waterfall, this one being at least a hundred feet wide as the massive river above flung the water far out into space before it started the long descent to the ground. They were about one third of the way down from the top as they approached, and he wondered how they intended to get around. Already the land around them was becoming soaked from the mist rising from below and the drops that were flung out of the main flow, and they had to choose their steps carefully to avoid slipping on the wet granite. Another slight turn in the path revealed their passage. A natural flattened cutaway in the side of the mountain that passed some hundred feet behind the falling water afforded passage to the far side. Even though the falling water was more than a hundred feet from them as they carefully made their way across the slippery shelf, the thundering sheet felt like it would sweep them from the side of the mountain and off into space where they would fall to their deaths.