The Venerable Fergal, Court Wizard of the Kingdom of the Eastern Shires, being the designated survivor of the now-shrinking Sodality of Master Wizards, had not attended. However, he had sat in his round tower in Sruthail Shire, tears streaming down his cheeks, throughout the entire morning.
Although the soldiers had returned to duty at the fortress and most of the civilians had left for their homes, some, along with the wizards, had remained in the yard surrounding Taliesin’s round tower, consoling each other. Due to the late wizard’s age, most had never known another Court Wizard of the Kingdom of the Western Shires.
Pádraig stood with Finbar and the elves, head hung low, his eyes red from weeping.
“Revered Sir,” a voice spoke from behind him.
Turning around, the young wizard saw that it was the High King himself, flanked by the master wizards Coinneach and Faolan, who had addressed him.
“Your Majesty,” he replied with a slight bow.
“May we speak to you inside for a few minutes?” Déaglán asked.
“Most certainly, Sire,” Pádraig replied and was ushered toward the round tower by the two master wizards.
Before the High King followed, he turned to Finbar and said, “Stick around if you would, Finn. I need a few words with you before I return to Dúnfort Cruachan.”
The farrier bowed and replied, “As you wish, Your Majesty.”
* * *
Once inside the ground-floor reception room in the tower, Déaglán took a seat at the head of the long table, with the two master wizards on either side of him.
Not sure of what to do, Pádraig simply stood at the foot of the table, waiting to be told.
Laid out there were the late Taliesin’s belongings, including his black seeing-stone, his personal book of spells, and his staff.
Spotting the items caused tears to leak out of Pádraig’s eyes, which he hurriedly wiped away with the sleeve of his gray cloak. However, he seemed confused by two of the items—a black cloak and a black mantle, both of them new.
“Do you recognize these?” the High King asked.
“They belonged to the Venerable Taliesin, Sire. At least the orb, book, and staff did. I don’t know about the mantle and cloak.”
“They, as well as the orb, book, and staff, belong to the new Court Wizard of the Kingdom of the Western Shires. More specifically, they now belong to you, Venerable Pádraig.”
“W…w…what?!” the young wizard managed to squeak out, as he looked from Déaglán to Coinneach, then to Faolan.
* * *
Both Faolan and Fergal had felt the ripple in their essences when Taliesin passed over. Even though they had prepared themselves for the heart-breaking occurrence, based on conversations with Coinneach over the past few days, they had hoped that their brother wizard would, with An Fearglas’ help, somehow recover. As the sensation faded, they each went to the top floors of their respective round towers to await Coinneach’s scry.
The bad news came within ten minutes. Along with it, though, Coinneach informed them that it was Taliesin’s dying wish that Pádraig replace him as the Guardian of the Black Stone.
Fergal had no problem with the request, but the Arch-Wizard balked, claiming that the newly-appointed journeyman wizard was not anywhere near ready to assume the responsibilities of a master wizard.
Fergal and Coinneach disagreed, arguing that Taliesin, as Pádraig’s mentor, knew the young wizard’s abilities and readiness better than anyone else and that his wish should be honored. And, the Master of the Academy attested to the young wizard’s power, reminding Faolan that, not only had Pádraig been able to slay Odhran, but, after doing so, to summon enough power to use the master wizard’s seeing-stone in order to contact Taliesin.
Because the appointment of a court wizard was strictly the prerogative of the king in whose shire required one, with the members of the Sodality serving as consultants only, having no veto power, the decision fell to Déaglán, as King of the Western Shires.
After hearing pros and cons from each of the master wizards, and remembering that Pádraig was not only responsible for saving Prince Liam’s life, but instrumental in thwarting the insurrection, Déaglán ultimately decided to grant Taliesin’s final wish and to select Pádraig as his court wizard.
* * *
“The Venerable Taliesin wanted this, Pádraig,” the High King told the young wizard. “And I want this. You have more than proven your loyalty, and have put your own life in jeopardy numerous times for the sake of the first tenet of wizardry. Now, tell your country and king that you will answer the call once again and serve as Court Wizard of the Kingdom of the Western Shires.”
Pádraig, numbly and very softly, said, “Yes, Your Majesty. I would be honored to do so.”
Coinneach and Faolan stood, came around to the foot of the table, and faced him. Both master wizards placed their hands on Pádraig’s head and Faolan said, “Receive the Spirit of An Fearglas. May His peace and love abound in you.”
All of a sudden, the young wizard felt a warmth envelope his entire body. Any concerns that he had had about accepting the appointment seemed to vanish. It was as if he were filled with an over-arching confidence and tranquility, the likes of which he had never experienced before.
The master wizards removed their hands; and, all four men in the room made the ritual act of submission to the Deity.
Coinneach then picked up Taliesin’s book of spells and gave it to Faolan.
The Arch-Wizard opened the ancient, leather-bound tome to a random location. Placing the book on Pádraig’s shoulder and neck, he said, “The true character of a master wizard is to temper the exercise of great knowledge and power with even greater humility and serenity. Do this you affirm?”
Pádraig answered, softly, “I do.”
After setting the book aside, Coinneach handed Taliesin’s staff to the Arch-Wizard.
Faolan extended it to Pádraig. “Take this staff as a symbol of your devotion to the first tenet of wizardry. As a shepherd guides his flock, a master wizard guides his king, giving him the very best advice possible at all times for the good of the country and kingdom, regardless of its popularity. Do this you affirm?”
The young wizard grasped the staff in his left hand, and again replied, “I do.”
After lifting the polished black orb from the table, Coinneach attempted to hand it to Faolan. However, as the Arch-Wizard reached for it, he abruptly balked, pulling his hand back as if the sphere were a white-hot coal, and gave Coinneach a slight shake of his head.
The Master of the Academy made brief eye contact with his brother wizard, suddenly realized why Faolan had refused the stone, and, instead, handed it directly to Pádraig.
The Arch-Wizard continued with, “And finally, Brother Pádraig, take this seeing-stone and remember always that you are never alone. Your brother master wizards are as near to you as this orb, always ready and available to provide whatever assistance, comfort, and guidance you require.”
Pádraig stood there, black sphere in one hand and staff in the other, as Coinneach removed the gray cloak and blue mantle from him, so that Faolan could attire the newly-consecrated master wizard in the black mantle and cloak, symbolic of his new rank.
“Fáilte, Brother Pádraig,” the Arch-Wizard said, “as Guardian of the Black Stone and a member of the Sodality of Master Wizards.”
Only then did High King Déaglán rise from the head of the table, come around to the foot, and put both hands on Pádraig’s shoulders. “And I welcome you as well, Venerable Pádraig,” he said, “Court Wizard of the Kingdom of the Western Shires. You have my full and complete trust.”
* * *
After the announcement by the High King outside Taliesin’s—and now Pádraig’s—round tower, and the applause of everyone still in the courtyard had died down, individuals came forward to personally congratulate the new master wizard.
Stopping a smiling Finbar before he could reach his son, Déaglán said, “Walk me to my
horse, if you would.”
“Of course, Sire,” the farrier replied.
Once the two men were out of earshot, the High King said, “There is an old saying regarding treaties, Finn—‘Trust, but verify.’ Do I rightly assume that members of an organization that I have no knowledge of and don’t want to know even exists, will be keeping a watchful eye on what goes on in the Northern Shires?”
“I’d say that would probably be a correct assumption, Your Majesty,” Finbar replied, with just a hint of a smile at Déaglán stressing the word, ‘watch.’…“If, as you say, such an organization actually did exist.”
With a wink, the High King mounted his horse.
* * *
After everyone else had offered Pádraig their congratulations and best wishes, Finbar, beaming with pride, approached his son.
“What some people will do to get out of a little manual labor,” he grumbled. Then, grabbing Pádraig in a bearhug, he said, “I spent years trusting Taliesin’s judgment. Don’t doubt yourself for a moment, Paddy. His Venerableness knew what he was doing.”
Pádraig returned the smile. “Thank you, Da. And promise me, you’ll hire an apprentice to help you out.”
“I’m going to have to, since it looks like you’re going to be a tad busy from now on.”
“At least, in the short run. But by the time you get to the garrison at Cathair Tulach, I should have my feet solidly under me. Then we need to have long talk…about a lot of things.”
“Count on it, Paddy.”
After another hug, Finbar joined the elves, and all three of Pádraig’s fellow Watchmen offered a final wave.
Just then, Liam, who had been standing off by himself during the activities, approached.
At first, Pádraig thought that perhaps the prince had come to offer his own congratulations, but one look at Liam’s countenance completely dispelled that notion.
“A word, Venerable Sir?” the prince asked, an expression of distaste on his face.
“Of course, Your Highness. Would you care to step inside?”
“This will do just fine. What I have to say won’t take that long.”
Pádraig gestured for him to continue.
“After my marriage on Mid-Spring Day,” Liam said, “Princess Teagan and I will be taking up residence at Cathair Tulach, where I will be functioning as Acting-King of the Western Shires.”
“Congratulations, Your Highness.”
“Not necessary. In fact nothing is necessary from you. I expect you to stay away from the cathair unless there is a ceremonial reason for you to be there, or if I send for you. Is that understood?”
The newly-consecrated master wizard gazed down at the ground and hesitated for a few seconds. With his newly-infused confidence, his face hardened. He raised his head, locked his deep-blue eyes on the prince’s brown ones, and replied, “Not to put too fine a point on it, Your Highness, but the Court Wizard of the Kingdom of the Western Shires is the primary advisor to the King of the Western Shires, not the Acting-King. As such, I will come and go at the cathair as I deem it necessary. And if you have a problem with that, I suggest you take it up with your da. Is that understood?”
Stifling a gasp, Liam took a half step backward, almost as if he had been physically slapped. He had never before seen the look with which Pádraig now fixed upon him. His eyes widened and his face turned scarlet. Without another word, he turned on his heel and crossed to where the High King and his entourage sat mounted, waiting to leave. Swinging himself up onto Máedóc’s saddle, Liam heeled the pure-white stallion and rode off toward the bridge over Salmon River, never once turning around to look back.
Pádraig, with sadness in his heart, stood there watching the prince leave.
“Well done, Venerable Sir,” a voice behind him said.
The new master wizard turned and saw the senior journeyman wizard in Tulach Shire.
“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but,”—Muircheartach pointed to his ears—“with the enhanced hearing?”
“It’s okay,” Pádraig told him. “I wanted to speak with you anyway.”
“What can I do for you, Venerable Sir?”
“I just wanted to let you know that I never sought nor expected this appointment. As senior journeyman wizard, I’m sure you think it should have gone to you.”
Muircheartach waved off the apology. “Remember, Master Taliesin was my mentor, too. And, for all those years, I trusted his judgment implicitly. I certainly am not about to question it now. This is what he wanted, and I’m perfectly content with that decision. Anything I can do to help ease the transition for you, please don’t hesitate to ask. And, again, let me say that your first act in asserting your independence and nipping the new Acting-King’s power-grab in the bud was very well done.”
* * *
As they were preparing to leave and were alone for a few moments, Coinneach said to Faolan, “I apologize, my brother, for trying to hand you the black stone. I hadn’t realized that you had both yours and our late brother Odhran’s in your belt-bag.”
“With things as tenuous as they were regarding the Sodality, down to only three members for a short time, I didn’t want that red stone out of my possession,” the Arch-Wizard replied. “But even I am not so arrogant as to tempt providence by having three of the orbs under my control.”
“A wise precaution, my brother. Too much power, even when envisioned for noble ideals, can sometimes become perverted.”
“Indeed, my brother.”
“May I ask why you didn’t enlighten brother Pádraig on what the black stone actually is that he is charged with guarding?” Coinneach asked. “You are planning to do so before we leave, aren’t you?”
Faolan grimaced slightly and shook his head. “He’s so overwhelmed at the moment, I’ve decided against taxing him any further just now. Even though he has been consecrated a master wizard and joins us as a full member of the Sodality, he still has so much to learn and absorb. Aside from Brother Taliesin, you know him best, Coinneach. You must now become his mentor. I’ve asked Pádraig to speak with you at least once every month about anything and everything that’s on his mind. I know you’ll guide him well, my brother. When you decide that the time is right, then reveal to him what the black stone truly is; and, make certain he understands that, of the five stones which An Fearglas has entrusted to the master wizards’ care, the black one is the most important of all.”
Willowday - Fox 19th
Central Federal Region - Dúnfort Cruachan
When the High King and Arch-Wizard returned to the citadel after attending Taliesin’s passing-over ceremony, Faolan was surprised to find Ríoghán still there, waiting for him in the reception hall of the wizard’s round tower.
“I wanted to speak with you before about this, Most Venerable Sir,” the King of the Northern Shires told Faolan, “but with Master Taliesin’s death, I thought it more appropriate to wait until your return from Tulach Shire.”
“I’m at your disposal, Your Majesty,” Faolan said, gesturing Ríoghán toward a stool at the long table. “Tell me what’s on your mind and what I can do for you.”
Sitting to the Arch-Wizard’s left, the king said, “I have made my decision on a replacement for Master Odhran, Most Venerable Sir, and I would like you to officiate at the consecration here at Dúnfort Cruachan before I, my family, and advisors return to Cathair Béarra.”
“Excellent, Your Majesty. Tell me whom you’ve picked, and I’ll contact the other members of the Sodality and schedule the ceremony forthwith.”
“Thank you, Most Venerable Sir. I’ve decided on the Revered Máiréad to replace Odhran as Court Wizard of the Kingdom of the Northern Shires.”
Faolan sat there blinking his eyes, as if struck dumb. Finally, he said, “B…but the Confederation considers her parents and mentor to be traitors, Your Majesty.”
“And all dead now,” the king pointed out. Raising a puzzled eyebrow, he continued. “I really don’t understand your objection, Master F
aolan. After all, you yourself awarded her the blue mantle for her efforts in assisting Pádraig, who I understand has now been consecrated a master wizard, in thwarting the insurrection. She is your heroine. And, besides, it was Prince Liam who first broached the subject with me after the handfasting ceremony.”
* * *
“But she’s not yet ready,” Faolan argued.
“I believe we’ve been through this before, my brother,” Coinneach replied from his round tower on Blessed Island, via the scry that the Arch-Wizard had initiated.
In Sruthail Shire, Fergal gazed into his glowing blue orb and said, “Ríoghán has the right to choose whom he wants from the ranks of journeyman wizards.”
“Brother Pádraig,” the Arch-Wizard spoke again, “You are a full-fledged member of the Sodality now and probably know her best. What say you?”
Up to this point, the new master wizard had not taken part in the conversation. Even now, from the fifth floor of his round tower in Tulach Shire, he hesitated.
Coinneach answered, instead. “Our young brother is probably too polite to say what’s really on the tip of his tongue, Brother Faolan. But while you and the High King were crafting the Articles of Capitulation, brother Pádraig repeatedly warned you about the dangers of demoting all the apprentice and journeyman wizards in the Northern Shires who had taken part in the insurrection. Here is a prime example of those chickens now coming home to roost. In addition to Máiréad having been tutored by Odhran for two years up in Cathair Béarra, she was born at Ráth Árainn and now is Chieftain of Árainn Shire. It should not come as any great surprise that Ríoghán chose her. He’s not personally familiar with any other journeyman wizards.”
“Most Venerable Sir,” Pádraig finally spoke up, still somewhat shy about referring to the Arch-Wizard as ‘brother,’ “you really have no choice but to consent. Ríoghán is well within his rights as King of the Northern Shires. There are no terms in the Articles of Capitulation restricting his selection of a court wizard.”
The Embers are Fanned in Cruachan (The Chronicles of Pádraig Book 2) Page 42
