by Ayre, Janice
Karman was serious and thorough as she instructed him, stressing the good and the bad of the herbs and of the dangers if used incorrectly. He began to understand the signs of some illnesses but he realised he would need much more study to have any great understanding.
It was not all work. Sometimes they would both go to the kitchen and cook so much food that it was more than they could eat and they would go visiting and take it to some of the poor or sick. They both liked to experiment and while some results were pleasing, for they both had a good sense of what foods and ingredients blended well together, they did have their share of disasters. This particular afternoon was one such time.
Brock was so overtaken with mirth that he laughed until it hurt. As soon as he dried his eyes and gained some composure he looked at Karman as she stood, her brow wrinkled in perplexity as she studied the obnoxious grey mass before her.
Her comment of: "Well that didn't go as expected." once more set Brock into convulsions of laughter.
Brock felt so at ease with this stately, elegant, intelligent lady. He felt he could tell her just about anything, not that he felt he could hide much anyway from that all knowing gaze. But she listened without hurtful judgement, giving advice only when asked for, and even then she encouraged her young student to figure out much of the problem for himself.
While he appreciated that she was a good person and very good long time friend of Zebulon, Brock knew he could not hope to have the same unique friendship as they shared.
She often counselled him and he, respecting her wisdom, took that counsel. It pleased him that he had earned some place of importance in her life. He realised too, that she had beauty which was under appreciated, especially by those who had a passing acquaintance with her, because her seriousness, her skills and her dedication often eclipsed her physical attractiveness. Brock realised it was the maturity of observation he had learned under exceptional tutors that enabled him to make that judgement. Gone was the lazy and self-centred elf he had once been.
Working beside her now as they cleaned up the mess, Brock, who still thought relevant thoughts, noticed with satisfaction that he was as tall as her, maybe even a bit taller. This pleased him because she was a tall lady and he could still remember the intimidation at their first meeting because she and Zebulon had made him feel very small and weak. He was still in awe that he was engaged in a simple domestic task with this special lady, who had at first seemed so aloof. Here in her home she adapted herself to her task, not minding if there was a smudge of flour on her cheek, or that her hair was somewhat ruffled.
***
As Zebulon travelled towards Kareem's home it felt strangely lonely. He had become used to having Brock at his side. He was uneasy also because he was conscious of an unwelcome presence nearby and was sure it was Mustafa. He did not believe Mustafa would approach him because both knew Zebulon was the stronger wizard, especially now most of his full powers had returned. Still it was wise to be on his guard. What skills Mustafa lacked in magic he made up with cunning.
Eventually he entered a pretty seaside town where Kareem had chosen to spend his quieter years. The inhabitants were mostly human. Kareem had an affection for the human race and felt that his second life's calling was to teach them to be more sensitive to the refined things of life.
When Zebulon rode up to his house he found him seated outside in an exquisite garden, a few children draped on his knees, while others sat around on the grass. His younger brother Morcion sat on a garden seat beside him.
"I did as you suggested!" was Morcion's greeting to Zebulon.
Zebulon gave a smile in response and then centred his attention on Kareem who had gently but firmly disentangled himself from the youngsters who were reluctant to leave their prized position. Kareem came forward, arms extended and a wide smile of delight on his elderly features.
"Zebulon, so long! And you have suffered much."
"All my own doing." Zebulon wrapped his strong arms around the small wizard and was silent some moments.
Sensing that Morcion may feel excluded from the companionship of the wizards, Zebulon asked him about his journey to his brother's place.
Quickly Morcion welcomed the invitation to recount his journey in the finest detail. Zebulon sat back lazily as Morcion's voice almost lulled him to sleep. Only when he heard the description of a person he recognised did he open his eyes and troubled thoughts entered his mind.
"Yes, I was mighty glad to have the company of this young man. Very personable and knowledgeable. He came most of the way with me and we parted company on the outskirts of town. Really sorry to see him go," finished Morcion.
While Morcion's company was enjoyable, for he had an entertaining wit, his presence made it difficult for Zebulon to accomplish that which he had wished. Morcion was a favourite with the children because he played with them and showed them little card tricks and juggling. They were quite sure in their own little minds that he was a great magician. Morcion, well aware that he possessed none of the real magic possessed by Kareem or Zebulon, revelled in his moment of glory with an honest simplicity. After a few weeks he became restless, for he missed his own particular choice of solitude, and bade his brother and Zebulon a fond farewell.
With the departure of Morcion, Zebulon became more frustrated with the children. Kareem, sensing Zebulon's needs, sent the children away kindly but firmly. Some grumbling ensued but one look at the angry face of the big wizard and determination in the clear blue eyes of their favourite, quickly dissipated any resistance.
Left alone with Kareem in the following days, Zebulon was urgent in his need for wise counsel. His longing for Saniyah became more acute with each passing day.
"This must never happen again. Not only have I hurt Saniyah but I could have brought about the ruin of others and the work of others who have gone before." Zebulon was solemn as he considered the extent of his folly.
"No it must never happen again. And for this reason, I regrettably have to reassess if you are worthy of the pendant." Kareem also was deeply earnest and exhibited a gravity not often expressed on his countenance.
"Many times have I relived that day and wished to change it."
"But while doing that you realise that only a fool keeps hoping for the unattainable."
It pained Kareem to deal with Zebulon in a harsh manner but he understood that his student, quite capable of rendering stern discipline to others, expected to be treated in a like manner when deserved. He had no patience for any who would try to soften the discourse with sweet words and unworthy excuses. That had been the greatest contrast between his two students, Kareem reflected, Mustafa could not tolerate having fault found in him. He too could have gone far if he had learned this one valuable lesson.
Long hours Kareem spent listening to Zebulon talk and only when needed would he interrupt with a few words of wise counsel.
"I feel she will never forgive me. Yet I am only half a person while I am absent from her. Still if she will be happy without me then it must be so."
Kareem pondered for a moment before replying. "While berating and judging yourself you must also be reminded that the blame is not yours alone. Saniyah is as fiery as she is beautiful. If what you have related to me is accurate, then she must bear part responsibility."
"But I provoked her!"
"Yes you did. But did she not provoke you too? Each of you could have chosen not to be provoked."
"Is there any hope for two such hotheads? Are we doomed to fire up together and rip our world apart."
"Only the two of you can answer that question. Have you not mastered your temper more now?"
"I have had some success."
"And do you not think that given time for much reflection that Saniyah would be doing likewise?" She is loving, she is kind. She will be pining for you as much as you are for her."
"I cannot be sure."
"Only a silly lover could be so blind!"
Kareem had the wisdom to know that Zebulon must work
through his grief for what had taken place but he also needed to rest at times. Wisely Kareem would carefully guide him into other activities either of solitary reflection or to the reading of inspirational books. Other times they would both lose themselves in music for it was a great love of both. Its healing and enlightening power often was of greater benefit than any wonderful words that could be spoken.
In time Kareem knew that Zebulon had gained greater mastery over his weaknesses and was ready to give him the pendant and to send him on his way to Saniyah. They had discussed their concern over Mustafa and what he might be planning. Zebulon related to Kareem how he had felt Mustafa's presence but had not seen him.
"Morcion also believed he was being followed some of the way but I have not felt him near here," said Kareem.
"I have not either. He would not try to attack us while we are together."
"I hear he is greatly changed."
"Once he realised the pendant was no longer in my possession his former jealously became magnified. He will try to plan something to make it his."
"That will never be!"
"But we must be alert and careful. I am concerned, the young man of whom Morcion spoke in such glowing terms, could be Orville, Mustafa's apprentice."
"Then we will both be careful so that they will not succeed in their plan."
The day came when Zebulon was to leave. Kareem handed the pendant to him.
"Know that I consider you worthy once more. Go with my blessing."
Zebulon rejected the offering and firmly pushed the pendant back into Kareem's hand.
"It means much to me that you consider me worthy. But no, I cannot take it."
"Why?"
"Because I am not yet worthy, though I plan to be soon. And I am concerned for you if Mustafa should approach you. The pendant will protect you until we can defuse this threat."
"I will be fine. I can deal with Mustafa."
"No you cannot. He is much stronger now. It would not be a fair battle."
Finally Kareem was persuaded to keep the pendant. He knew what Zebulon said was true.
"Then I hope to see you soon and give the pendant to you."
"That you will. May goodness watch over you until we meet soon dear friend."
***
The days were full and sped by, but one day a visitor disturbed Brock's contentment. An injured elf from Forest Glen was brought to Karman. Brock recognised him immediately but so greatly changed was Brock and the fact that the elf was in such great pain he did not know Brock. He assisted Karmen in tending to the injury and he once again admired her skill and compassion.
In itself the visitor was not exceptional but he raised a longing within Brock to see his family. He expressed his desire to Karman who encouraged him to wait a few days and see how he felt.
Karman also urged him to study from her extensive library, for she told him, he could not be great and wise unless he also availed himself of the knowledge and insight within good books.
"Many can be your teachers," she told him.
Brock had still not developed the love of books, preferring much more hands- on activity. He wiled away the next few days trying to appear interested in the books and other tasks but still he had the powerful desire to visit with his family and see some of his friends. The time he could have spent in being instructed was spent in day dreaming.
One night as Karman worked in her office he began to wander in and out, a habit he normally resisted for he knew it did not please her. Her patience was wearing thin and she finally raised her eyes from her work and glared at him.
"Go find some furniture, or maybe a book to annoy!" It was said more in humour than anger and so Brock gave a guilty smile and began to leave.
"Wait," Karman called. "You won't settle until you have gone home, so tomorrow, go"
Brock's heart jumped for joy. "You won't regret this, I'll be extra studious when I return. I'll even read books!"
"Then go and do that now." And she returned to her task.
Chapter Nineteen
Two Visitors
The plans of the morrow were never to eventuate for Brock. Late that night Zebulon returned.
Brock was excited to hear about Zebulon's visit but he discussed little with him or Karman. Brock was also anxious to share his experiences, but Zebulon had little interest in that.
He set Brock to work the very next day, driving him for a greater effort and perfection than ever before. Brock was disheartened. He felt the Zebulon he had grown to love and respect was an illusion, that the mean wizard he had thought him to be, was the real one. Many times Brock was tempted to refuse to work so hard, to complain, or simply to leave, but it was not fear that kept him silent and patient, but a sense that there was a reason behind this unrelenting drive.
Karman too, observed with concern. She would frown at Zebulon's harshness but as soon as Brock made silent appeal to her to intervene, she would turn away. She felt sorry for the elf but knew Zebulon would have his reasons. In time he would tell her.
Finally Karman could wait no longer. Alone together, Brock having been set some tasks in the garden, she confronted Zebulon.
“Why are you doing this? You have given no explanation and you have not shared any of your news with us. Surely you must know that I am anxious to know.”
“What is it you wish to know?” Zebulon asked as if the idea was new to him.
“About the pendant. Have you brought it back with you?”
“No.”
“Because?”
“I am still not worthy.”
“Kareem thinks you are not worthy?”
“I think I am not.”
“Have you been to see Saniyah?”
“ She won't see me.”
“Did you try to see her?”
Zebulon's composure deserted him at this line of questioning.
“I will..it is none of your concern,” he responded sharply.
Karman turned away and Zebulon strode after her, grasped her by the shoulder and swung her around.
Contrite now, he placed his two hands on her shoulders, "I'm sorry. I have hurt you."
Karman looked up at him steadily. "If you were anywhere else, it would not be my concern, but you are in my home. You are brooding and like a volcano ready to erupt, therefore it is my business! Now unhand me."
Zebulon did not remove his hands but instead drew her close and kissed her on the forehead. "The Gods knew what they were doing when they placed you on the planet with me, to keep me in line and to give wise counsel."
As Zebulon dropped his hands to his side, Karman placed her hands on his chest and firmly pushed him away. "It seems you got the more favourable deal then."
Zebulon gave a deep chuckle and Karman moved smoothly around the room completing her previous tasks. Some tension was released and at least the confrontation had produced some relaxation in Zebulon, even if she still was not any wiser about his concerns.
Brock entered at that point, and realising that something had taken place, looked from one to the other for an answer. None was forthcoming and presently Karman left the room.
“You look tired young lad. No more work for you tonight,” said Zebulon in a kinder tone than he had used since returning. “Tomorrow I must talk with you.”
Thankful for a reprieve from the gruelling work, Brock asked no questions, although his mind was busy with many.
At breakfast next morning Zebulon ate little, preferring to sit and watch his companions. Brock was extra hungry because he felt refreshed after a good night's rest. Karman knew the wizard had something on his mind. He was unusually fidgety, a habit she would have expected in Brock.
He finally addressed himself to Brock. “We leave tomorrow.”
“That is good news. Where are we going?” Brock was full of enthusiasm over the prospect of adventure.
"I'll tell you on the way."
“He is not going with you,” said Karmen so fiercely that the two stared at her.
> Zebulon, with an almost condescending attitude responded quickly. “You are the mother now?”
“You have not told him where he is going or what is expected of him. You do not have the right to expect him to follow without these details, so he can make up his own mind.”
No one seemed interested in the meal any more. The silence was deafening. One pair of angry brown eyes did not leave Zebulon's face, while a pair of blue ones looked questioningly and hopefully at him.
“You are right,” Zebulon said at length. “We are going after Mustafa. I am tired of the game of cat and mouse he is playing and I'm going to find him.”
Brock felt a thrill pass through him. To actually meet Mustafa at last, and to see the true might of Zebulon's power.
Karmen was much more sober. “You can go against Mustafa but Brock would be in great danger. Why would you need to place him in such peril?”
“You are correct. I will go alone.”
“No,” exclaimed Brock, “I want to go with you. I can help.”
“No, I don't know what I was thinking. I do not need you. Karmen is right.” At the sign that Brock was about to protest further, Zebulon put up his hand. “The decision has been made. It is not a game. You have no idea of the danger.”
Zebulon began making plans for his journey and gave no attention to Brock. Brock went about his usual task mournfully. He was so angry with Karmen for interfering. He felt he would never have another chance like this. While lost in his own dark thoughts he heard a sharp knock at the door. Expecting it to be someone seeking Karmen's aid, he automatically went to usher in the visitor.
Before him stood an old man. His face was flushed and he seemed on the point of exhaustion. He looked strangely familiar yet Brock was sure he had never met him before. Despite his dishevelled appearance there was a quality about him that suggested that a meeting with such a being would not be easily forgotten.
“I need to speak with Zebulon,” he said in a husky voice.
