Wizard's Blood [Part One]

by Bob Blink

  The group had considered Jolan’s situation after hearing more of the story behind his arrival and a description of what he and Asari intended to try and do. As a result, Jolan now had his work cut out for him. Kinar was tasked with training him in the care and feeding of the horses, a task that had started two evenings ago. Iart would try and give him some basic sword training.

  “The horses come first my Pa always says,” explained Kinar the first night as he showed Jolan and Asari how to check the horses hoofs for bruises or other damage, and how to run their hands over the legs looking for swellings or possible cuts or bites. Asari had elected to join in the instruction despite being a bit more knowledgeable than Jolan in such matters.

  “He says once you get settled in after a hard day, have a bit of dinner and a warm mug of tea, it’s far too easy to skimp on the proper care or duck it altogether. The horses have spent their day working their hearts out for you, the least you can do is see to their comfort.”

  Feeding and watering was straight-forward, although Jolan learned that the horses had cravings for something more than the simple grains, and were appreciative of an apple or two. Brushing their coats served to clean them as well as locate burrs and the occasional tick, but was more work than he might have guessed. By the time he, Asari, and Kinar finished with all of the horses, the muscles in his arms were heavy and complaining. In the mornings he and Asari would hitch up the teams, and saddle all the riding horses so they could become proficient at each of the tasks.

  The last two nights before turning in had also been the start of his sword practice. It took no time for Iart to establish Jolan had no idea how to even hold the sword he had purchased, let alone attempt any basic moves.

  “You make a move like that and you’ll be dead before you can recover for another attempt,” Iart had warned him. “It’s not an axe.”

  Despite the fact it wasn’t an axe Iart had him spend half his time chopping away at large limbs on some of the dead trees. He explained that Jolan hadn’t developed some of the muscles in both his arms and legs, and the chopping would give him some strength so the basic moves he intended to show him would be far easier. No one had any misconception that Jolan would become anything more than familiar with sword handling in the few days they had to practice.

  The attentions of Morin’s two nephews had one very apparent side effect. Jolan was tired and stiff. As he rode beside Morin this morning he sat quietly astride his horse. The merchant must have been aware of his companion’s state, and for once he was silent as well, allowing Jolan to watch the scenery as he half dozed.

  The land had lost a lot of elevation in the past few days, resulting in countryside that was now flatter, with richer, darker soil. Grasses were thick and varied, with trees that now had leaves instead of needles more often than not, and were becoming more widely spaced. A larger variety of wild fruit trees were available, allowing Jolan to try a number of new types, most of which he found quite palatable.

  He hadn’t seen many of the Narbuck or larger deer since they’d come down into the valley, but had observed a herd of more than a hundred bison-like animals that could be related to the old buffalo back home. They roamed free and seemed unconcerned by the presence of the travelers as they passed.

  The valley had opened out and was more than a mile wide between the two mountain ranges. On the right a series of four large waterfalls tumbled from the peaks, the water falling several hundred feet before smashing into the rocky pools below releasing great plumes of spray. Hundred of small rivulets of water formed, joining into ever bigger streams, finally forming four reasonably sized streams that flowed toward the middle of the valley where they joined into a single wide river. Apparently they were out of the region where the fearsome fish prospered because Yashy and her youngest brother frolicked with abandon in the river during the last rest stop.

  Everyone was excited because they expected to reach a small village sometime in the afternoon. Yashy had told Asari that more than five hundred people lived there. They could stay overnight, yielding a chance to talk with someone other than their own little group, get the latest news that had been passed by other travelers, and if Iart was correct, get some real eggs for breakfast. He’d been talking about the eggs for two days now.

  “Do you know much about magic?” Jolan asked suddenly.

  “Well now, you’ve come to the right place. I’ve learned a bit about most things in my travels.” Then he turned a bit more serious. “I probably know more than the average citizen of Seret, but I’m hardly an expert. Why?”

  “You commented the other day that almost any mage or wizard should know how to resist the elements; ignore the heat and cold. I seem to have the talent to tap the power fields and use magic, but my abilities seem oddly jumbled. I can do some basic things, and a few rather surprising things, like the Mage’s Box I showed you, but other things that are supposed to be within the grasp of even the most inexperienced mage I can’t do.”

  “Well now my friend. You haven’t been trained in any formal way. Besides, coming from where you do where magic isn’t practiced, who’s to say that your abilities are stunted. Maybe you just can’t do some of these things. I don’t know how it’s supposed to work, other than it’s supposed to depend on a lot more than just how easily a mage can access the source.”

  “I’m not sure I follow.”

  “Well now,” said Morin warming to the subject. “First of course, is the ability to draw on the power at all. Then you’ve got to know what to do with it. I’ve heard that the better your memory, and the better you understand how the world works, the more abilities a mage is supposed to have. Also, those that can use the power are supposed to have another facet to their minds that somehow handles the complexities of the forces they unleash.”

  He shrugged. “Not too helpful, what?”

  Jolan smiled. “What other types of things do you think might be considered basic. Sometimes the simple act of becoming aware of what could be possible was enough to somehow trigger my mind and open up the ability to me. I think whatever happened when Cheurt reached into my mind allowed me to copy some of his knowledge in some way and under the proper circumstances I’m able to access it.”

  Morin considered what he knew of users of the power. “I haven’t had much contact with real mages or wizards, but I’ve seen those who were limited in their abilities often enough. Seems like most have the ability to put up a personal shield for protection. Some are pretty basic, but others have become reasonably skilled. I’ve also seen people who can move things around by pushing or pulling on objects somehow. One young man I met could create a light somehow, so when he went into a dark place he could light it up just like day. He also could rob the light from a room, making it dark. Other than the immunities I spoke of, that’s about all I can think of at the moment.”

  It was something he supposed. He wished he knew how to practice these things. In the case of all his other skills he just suddenly knew how to do them. There had been no learning curve at all. One minute he had never considered the capability, and a moment later it was obvious how to go about it. Maybe he could find something to trigger more capabilities. Maybe he could do more when he wasn’t so physically tired.

  He started to drift off again, and thought back to the previous evening when Asari had handed him the iPhone with a glum look on his face. Jolan had checked and discovered the battery was completely dead.

  “That’s it,” he’d said. “Until we can find a way to recharge it, it’ll be useless. What happened? I thought the battery was still about half charged?”

  Asari explained how he’d chanced on the videos and started watching one of the movies. From his friend’s garbled explanation of events, not surprising given he couldn’t understand the English and the situation was so out of context for him, Jolan realized he had been watching the copy of Die Hard he had stored in the machine. The video used a lot more power, and the little player had discharged before the movie finished.
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  His mind continued to drift. He hadn’t realized he’d gone to sleep until the cessation of motion when Morin brought the team to a halt in the village brought him back to wakefulness.

  Chapter 21

  The village was the first community encountered by those coming into Seret from Trailways, and it was the last one someone heading out of the country would see before reaching the village in the mountains that was Asari’s home. As such, it catered strongly to the travelers, in fact most of its livelihood was related in one way or another to those passing through the tiny community. There were three inns and a variety of stores selling goods of all sorts. Two of the inns had enclosed courtyards where travelers could park their wagons with confidence their goods would not be disturbed while they enjoyed the comforts of real beds and home cooked meals offered inside. The caravan selected the largest of these to stay for the night, and soon the wagons were parked in a spot allocated to them, and the horses all cared for and put to bed in the hotel’s stables.

  Everyone except Morin’s three drivers stayed in the inn, while the three men stayed outside with the valuable shipment, despite the promised safety of the enclosure and the inn’s own security team. It was what they had been paid to do, and paid fairly well in fact. Driving the two extra wagons and buckboard, and acting as guards were their primary tasks. Kinar and Iart relieved them so they could clean up and have a good dinner before joining the rest of the group in the inn

  After the luxury of a warm bath, Jolan and Asari made their way down to the common room where the group had agreed to assemble for dinner. There would be nine of them, so Jolan informed one of the serving girls, who cornered one of the kitchen workers to help arrange a couple of tables. Before long the others started drifting in, with Kinar and his wife last to arrive.

  The inn had a surprisingly extensive selection, and along with a number of choices that Jolan didn’t recognize and had to have explained to him, was one he gravitated to immediately. He chose the filet of bison steak with mixed greens and mashed tubers. He hadn’t had anything resembling a real hunk of beef since being here, and hoped this might be the answer. There was also a selection of dark or light ale, and both red and white wines.

  While the others placed their orders he looked over the group of travelers that in so short a time had become his close friends. Two rectangular tables had been pushed together for the group, and Jolan sat at the juncture of the two tables. Asari sat to his right at the other table. On Asari’s right sat Yashy, and across from them sat Kinar and his shy wife. Across from Jolan were Iart and Polas, while Morin’s wife Ingari sat on his left. Appropriately, Morin sat at the head of the long “table”.

  The talk was spirited while their two waitresses brought the drinks and warm fresh brown bread and a thick honey butter. Jolan found the dark ale a bit bitter for his taste, and switched back to the lighter variety on his first refill, which came very shortly after he’d been delivered the first tankard. By the time the food had arrived, the men were all on their second tankard.

  The inn was busy this evening, and other diners occupied all but one of the tables. The background noise consisted of muted voices, sudden laughter, as well as the clatter of dishes and eating implements. Their two waitresses were kept quite busy, and made frequent trips for more drinks, as well as refills of various items as the meal wore on.

  “How far before we reach the next town?” Jolan asked.

  “Honlt,” Polas offered from across the table.

  “It’s an easy three days from here,” Iart added. “They are located right on the three lakes, and offer some of the tastiest fish you’ll ever feast on.”

  How Iart could even think of food right now was beyond Jolan. For that matter, the rest of them didn’t seem to be slowing down all that much either. He didn’t know how they could manage it, but all of the others were keen on getting some of the berry pie for dessert. He’d had more than his fill, in fact he’d eaten and drunk so much he was in mild discomfort. The alcohol was also having an effect on him which he knew the others could tell, and he found his thoughts fuzzy but contented.

  “After Honlt we’ll be back in civilization again,” Morin offered. “There will be a string of small villages, and the occasional township. Ekine is only a week or so travel after Honlt. That’s where we have to turn off towards Slipi.”

  Over Morin’s pretended objections, Jolan settled the bill with the prettiest of the waitresses, adding a generous tip. It was only fair. He and Asari had been enjoying the hospitality of the others for more than a week now, and while Asari did bring in much of the game they’d been having, that wasn’t the point.

  As they made their way out of the common room, Morin put his arm over Jolan’s shoulders and said quietly in his ear.

  “Just thought of another little thing you might want to try. Mages are said to have no problem with alcohol. They are said to be able to control the effects so they don’t get crocked like the rest of us. Or if they do, they can make it all go away. Would sure beat the hangovers we’re all going to have in the morning.”

  Jolan thought how convenient such an ability would be. He’d had many a bad morning after a night’s drinking back at college. He knew he’d had a bit more tonight than was prudent, but the warm company and pleasant surroundings after days out in the wilds had sucked him in. He wondered what such a spell would take. Knowing what an alcohol molecule looked like, perhaps he could focus on that, and somehow banish them from his body. That wasn’t the way, he realized. It would have to be something more straight-forward. First of all, who in this place would have any idea what a molecule looked like, and whatever needed to be done would have to be something that could be managed while being three-sheets-to-the-wind. Once he figured it out he could simply decide he wanted to be sober and. . . . . and suddenly he was. Just like that he could feel the effects of the uncounted tankards of ale disappear from his body.

  Jolan’s surprise must have somehow been transferred to his body because Morin suddenly asked, “What’s the matter lad?”

  “I just did it,” he explained, and could tell Morin knew what he meant.

  “I thought I was telling you something you didn’t know.”

  “I didn’t know it. That’s what I was telling you before. Sometimes just knowing something can be done is enough for me to suddenly know how. It’s weird.”

  Jolan also knew somehow that he would be able to repeat the trick whenever he wanted. Instant sobriety. Hey, he wondered. What if it works the other way. Want to be high, command a good drunk. Then he paled as a thought struck him. How would one control the degree of drunkenness.

  “How’d he die doctor?

  “Don’t know how he managed it, but he had an alcohol level of 10%. That’d kill anyone.”

  Jolan suddenly realized that careless use of his skill could be very dangerous. Dangerous to himself. Since he hadn’t been able to figure out just what triggered his magic sometimes, maybe he’d better be real careful what he wondered about.

  * * * *

  No one was up bright and early the next day. Jolan was a morning sleeper given the chance, and he hadn’t had the opportunity while they’d been on the road. The rest of the men appeared at intervals, all looking a bit bleary and under the weather. Even Asari looked a bit less spry, and he really hadn’t been drinking like the others. All through the dinner he and Yashy had been locked into a conversation about something.

  Breakfast, okay, so it was brunch, offered a chance at the eggs Jolan had been hearing about. He’d seen some of the monstrous things behind the counter when they’d come in, but when delivered he found they tasted like, well, eggs. They were good, he was having them scrambled with lumps of some kind of meat, but nothing much different than he was used to. Kinar and Iart were scooping them up, hungry now that their hangovers were starting to wear off.

  Since it was already mid-day, Morin declared the day a holiday. They wouldn’t go back on the road again until the next morning, but he expecte
d everyone to show a bit more restraint and be ready to leave at first light the following day. That left them free to do a little sight-seeing and shopping. While the others tended to their own concerns, Polas, Yashy, Asari, and Jolan made the rounds of the various shops in the small village. They were all located on the front street in order to catch the interest of the travelers as they passed through, and while they understandably had similar offerings there were differences. Yashy found a dress she was excited about, but complained that her pa would be unwilling to buy it for her. She was dumbfounded when Asari purchased it for her, which earned him a peck on the cheek. Jolan bought Polas a knife and scabbard, and remembering Morin’s criticism of the weapon he’d bought in Trailways, almost bought a fine looking sword for himself. Then he decided he still didn’t know enough to make a wise decision, and elected to wait until he was more proficient and could get the proper guidance.

  While they were walking around, he found a shop that could satisfy one of his needs. The most common headgear was a large floppy hat with a large circular headband. He had to admit the one they’d bought for him in Trailways had done an admirable job of keeping the sun off, but he hated the damn thing. After seeing the variety of leather headgear in one of the shops as they walked along the road, he stopped and talked at length to the woman in charge. He explained what he was thinking, and drew several rough sketches for her. She said she could have something made up by close of business, and quoted a price. It was a bit steep given the prices he’d started to become accustomed to, but really dirt cheap. He paid her, allowed some measurements to be taken, and promised to be back before the end of the day.

  Arriving back at the inn, they were surprised to see a crowd gathered around a group of wagons that had stopped near the inn. Morin was kneeling by a large box and digging through the contents while talking to a man that clearly was some type of doctor. Morin found what he wanted and handed two packages up to the doctor, who read the label, smiled, and nodded his thanks.