I talked to him about his herbs and suggested we could work together to help people. He agreed willingly enough. Through trial and error we established a laboratory of sorts in my room and through persistence, we have established a working pattern and agreement: I will provide him with tools and components and he will craft healing unguents for me to pass on to the deserving people in town. He will sell the extras. I must point out that he took to this arrangement with such a passion and such charity that I must admit he shames me. I feel that this young man will change me for the better.
His unguents are miraculous! They heal with such alacrity! It is causing some people to start whispering about the Church and I have to remind them of the Word and science. Such a dilemma!
Reading these words, I remembered my first meeting with Daukyns. The reek of wine off him was staggering in how sour it was and I wanted nothing more than to escape his attention. But he entranced me with his way of speaking, reminding me vaguely of my forgotten early days, and I soon found myself showing him my herbs. I had been forced into town to replace my worn out equipment. That same day, I fondly remembered, was the one I bought my tin cooking pot and my cherished tin teacup. I also remembered the sessions working out the formula for the making of unguents. Daukyns had tried to force me to follow the strictures in the Word and the success was not great. Alone one day, I let my own intuition guide me and the results were more than I could have hoped for. After that, all Daukyns cared to know was that I worked better alone and so he left me to it.
I did not know what to make of his comments about the wolves. I didn't recall the conversation. I knew from talking to people in town over the years that they were terribly afraid of the wolves and that they thought that there were hundreds of them. It was only a small pack of wolves; numbering usually around twenty, and that they preferred the woods well to the southeast of town where there were less hills and more rabbits to devour. They were afraid of people so that the townsfolk had nothing to fear.
The leader of the pack had once approached me. He stalked into my camp one night, walking a cautious but brave circle around the fire. He boldly sat next to me for a spell before chuffing and walking slowly out into the night. He howled a little later and I heard a reply from his pack. He honoured me that evening and I knew not why but we noted each other's passage with respect since that time. I knew instinctively that the townsfolk would not understand the wolves and so I am ashamed to admit to pretending to share their fear and spoke lies of keeping large fires at night to keep them at bay.
The next passage was dated mid last summer:
I have learned one thing about Will that I understand without hesitation: he is of both worlds. He walks into town and has the upbringing to make himself integrate and socialise like anyone else, but these times do not last long. After usually no more than three days, he will soon be almost running out the south gate and back to the wild. It is there in that world that he is at home. This might be the result of living most of his life on his own in the wild but I feel – no, I am certain – that it is in the wild he is most comfortable and that he was born to it. In my early years of schooling in the Word, my teacher mentioned a healing order dating back well before even the Church was created. I find myself wondering if people such as Will would have been drawn to that order and been part of it. He is drawn to helping people like no one else I know. Once, he mentioned that it is easier in the wild and that the animals know how to take care of themselves and I often wonder what he meant by that. There is so much more to Will than anyone suspects – even Will himself knows little. I find that I must keep his nature hidden from the townsfolk as much as I can. Already they believe that I am the creator of the unguents, aided by Will, my apprentice. So long as they keep their focus on me, the better. The Word must stay true and I must shelter Will from what they would likely fear and question.
Will raises many questions in me and I found myself approaching Bill Burstone for aid by asking him to allow me access to his unique library. He was surprised to know that I knew about it. I had sensed a love of books in Bill and one day, having seen him accept a large order of books (from a book merchant I once knew in Munsten), I was certain that Bill collected them. Bill agreed once I told him my reasons and I am excited about gaining access to his library; maybe some truth can be found there.
The second to last passage was dated a few months later:
I was shocked to discover that Bill Burstone is an extremely rich man. He could buy up this entire town or more! I chanced to see the contents of this chest of his and I was startled by the amount of coin he hid inside. I found myself overcome with the wealth and begged him to help the poor and he gave me such a look that I will not soon forget it. Such pain and horror! He told me to never ask him that again and to forget I even saw the money. We argued heatedly for a time, but it soon became clear that Bill Burstone would never help anyone but himself. He said that the only thing that could help the poor was the poor themselves and the look in his eyes drove fear into me. This man has a past that I do not want to know about and if I was not so dependent on his library I would have been done with him then and there. I hate myself for making this choice.
I have spent a considerable amount of time using Bill's library. His collection was extensive but they hinted at books that he did not hold. I discretely asked Bill if he could help fill in the missing pieces. He seems equally eager to finish "our research" as he now calls it. And so, he has agreed to reach out to his sources for more information – if it can be found. I think the research has given him purpose. He is drinking less at the inn.
We were drawn to one of the acquired missing tomes where it discussed an Order called the Aretha Tacuinum Sanitatis and in the text we found a passage that seemed out of place by its singular, almost accidental mention of a training token used by the order to assist their initiates. The token was not described and it failed to mention how it was used, but Bill became excited. For some reason he was certain he could obtain one of these tokens through a friend that specialised in such oddities. When I asked for more detail, he only mentioned Munsten and ties to the Church and then said not to worry about it. The Church! Terror struck me and I begged him to stay quiet but he was determined to find the truth, he said. Truth was a large part of the Word and I hesitantly agreed but with trepidation. Our research has expanded outside our small town and I worry that we are opening doors best left closed.
The coin arrived some weeks later by special courier. The arrival startled the town and caused the captain to make inquiries. Bill told him to mind his own business and then brought me up to his library and excitedly showed me what had arrived. I was disappointed to see that it was merely a worn–out, gold coin; minted from decades before the revolution and bore a strange symbol on one side. Bill assured me that it was genuine – he had no doubt. He was certain of his source and that he held one of the rare training tokens. I wondered to what length he went to obtain it but Bill wouldn't say more. He seemed content that its very existence gave proof to what we were uncovering.
I had never heard of this order called Aretha Tacuinum Sanitatis. I was angry at Daukyns for digging into my past and trying to seek answers that I neither asked for, nor wanted. I had made a promise to remain hidden and now I felt exposed and even betrayed. Daukyns and Burstone had pulled attention down on Jaipers and it resulted in the death of Burstone, the strange assassin, and maybe my death if I was to linger in the area. That scared me. The Reeve seemed to think any attention would be focused on him but I was tied to the death of the stranger through the coin and I knew that I could easily come under scrutiny as well.
I didn't understand why Bill Burstone would want to become involved in any of this. His wealth was curious and suspect to me. Bill had a past that was probably not good and was best left undiscovered. Daukyns should have stopped when he observed the contents of that chest and I wish he had – both Bill and Daukyns might be alive today if they hadn't started probing. Whatever the truth
– it was my business and Daukyns should have consulted me first. I felt a stirring of anger toward Daukyns with that thought.
At least I now knew more about where the coin came from. I wondered who Bill's contact was in the capital city of Munsten. What was meant by a "training token" – training for what exactly? I pulled the coin out and looked closely at it. I couldn't see any writing. The symbol was simply three spirals connected in the middle and meant nothing to me.
I was probably more confused now than before I read these passages. There was more to read and I turned my attention back to the writings of Daukyns, hopefully to find some answers.
The last passage was dated only a couple of days before I returned to Jaipers. It was clear that Daukyns knew he was ill and that I would soon be in possession of the book and so he wrote directly to me. His voice became stronger in my head.
Dearest Will,
My health has been failing me for some time now and I fear that nothing in your basket of remedies can stop the ravages that time places on a man. If you are reading this then I have lost my battle. The past couple of days have strained my body beyond what it can support and I fear that I will soon succumb. Know that I have lived a long and wonderful life and I now prepare myself to return to the stars and look forward to the next adventure that awaits me. That is the Word, and I have lived by the Word my entire life as best as I was able to and I have little fear; just a profound sadness, for I have enjoyed what life I have had and do not willingly give it up. This passion came in no small part from you entering my life and challenging all that I once held as truth in the Word.
The Word explains that all things can be explained through the Word and Science. I have lived that credo in all things that I do. So certain was I of the truth that lies in the Word. You presented me with a shock to my beliefs. I could not explain the things that you do! I followed my teachings and developed hypothesis after hypothesis for the questions you raised in me but nothing stood up to the facts you present. You almost belong under the misguided faith teachings of the Church – and I know how shocking that must seem to you! Forgive my humour, for in truth I know that the Word, in time, will explain your abilities – they are just beyond my ken. Through you I have found an even deeper appreciation of it. The Word teaches us that all things can be explained through Science: when Science permits such truths to be known and understood by modest men such as ourselves.
To that end, and as you have just read, I have been conducting an investigation into your past and more importantly, into trying to understand your abilities – I believe them to be linked. I apologise, Will, for doing so without your knowledge or consent and beg your forgiveness. But I have seen the effects you have on herbs and how they last much longer than herbs should once severed from their life giving roots and the mystery drew me into its embrace. It defies the Word!
Some truth between you and I: you need to find your past to determine your future. Of that I am convinced.
And so I can only point you down the road I started unbeknownst to you over the past year – a road I am sorry to say I could not follow to its end. I can only offer two facts to reaching your truth (if you are interested): Fact One, the Aretha Tacuinum Sanitatis which existed, it seems, before the Church, tantalizingly mentions members who could perform magycs. The truth behind these magycs remains hidden to me but some remnant of word of this order must surely still exist in the library in Jergen, or, if you are willing to travel so far: in Munsten. Fact Two, I discovered (and kept hidden from Bill Burstone), notes translated from a special manuscript that should interest you. Tucked into the back of this book, you will find three pages that I found in one of Bill's older and rarer books. They appear to be copied and translated from a document called the Draoi Manuscript. I cannot vouch for the authenticity of the pages but read them for yourself and seek the truth in the Word. These pages should entice you, I'm sure. There is a symbol drawn on the manuscript and it is identical to the one on the coin Bill obtained. Its meaning I cannot fathom. Perhaps this would be a good place to start your own investigation.
Stay safe, stay hidden, and when you look to the stars I hope you see me there.
Your friend,
R. Daukyns
Daukyns' notes changed everything and changed nothing. I never knew that Daukyns had hidden so much of his interest in me. I wish he had shared that curiosity with me so I could have saved him the time and stopped him. The mystery surrounding the coin and Bill Burstone's murder wasn't any clearer and nothing had been gained. All that I knew was that someone had traced that coin back to Bill Burstone and killed him to obtain it. The coin was the source of all this pain and I wondered if whoever had sent it had known the trouble it would cause.
I turned to the back inside cover of the book and found a folded paper sleeve glued inside. I pried open the end of the pocket and drew out the carefully folded pages I found. All together there were three pages within, yellowed with age but still strong. I slowly opened them to find them covered in rows of strange, spidery and cryptic symbols. Directly over the rows of symbols, someone had entered a translation. Oddly, the translated words were all pressed together and written with tiny letters, but Daukyns had placed tiny pencil strokes to separate the words and I could follow it without too much difficulty.
The first page was marked on the upper left corner with the same symbol embossed on my coin. Beside it was a title: A Translation of the Draoi Manuscript. I started to read the first page and realised with rising excitement that the page was discussing herbs, medicine and magyc! The words also contained a warning:
Be warned that this content is lawful to that noblest of manuscripts, the Draoi Manuscript, the discoveries contained therein which must remain hidden from common eyes through the most keenest methods of cypher so that the unlearned may not expose this knowledge for ill gain. The most learned man of Science, Averlino, drafted this lifelong work to capture his most remarkable findings so that others motan continue his fyne works on this Earth for the betterment of all mankind and in tribute to Gaea.
Contained within the tome are his most remarkable findings of the use of herbs and astrology in medicine and his discovery of sympathetic magycs to support and enhance healing.
I quickly scanned through the translations on the remaining two pages and found a cursory explanation of a few plants and how to crop them for maximum use and how to preserve them through the use of potions and unguents. It was describing some of what I already practised, except excitingly, I read mention of herbs whose names and descriptions I was not in the least familiar with. I realised quickly that without corresponding drawings, the text was almost meaningless. It described new plants, such as basil, but failed to provide any more description than it was an aromatic with bright green leaves and that the flower was purple when in bloom. The pages also mentioned hyacinth and mandragora; their properties were so exciting and with such potential! Frustratingly, these pages of the manuscript did not describe the plants. I had to know more! The more knowledge I had the better I would be able to help others. My mind reeled with the possibilities and I felt giddy with delight.
These three pages must have been only a portion of a larger manuscript. Of that I was sure. There was also no more mention of this 'sympathetic magyc' and I wondered if this was what I had used to destroy the motes. I knew that it must and I rolled the word 'magyc' over my tongue to get a taste for it. The position of the Church was clear on magyc and it described death for those that used it. It was one of the eight deadly sins they proclaimed and I shuddered despite myself. Few people believed in the Church these days, but their words still managed to circulate and some people still stubbornly believed in them despite a lack of any evidence to support their beliefs. Thank the Word that those days were long past. I could in no way describe my use of 'magyc', if that was what I was using, as being a sin. My magyc had healed dozens of people! It was no wonder Church believers barely existed today; no half intelligent person could believe such nonsense.
I recognised the voice of Daukyns in my head when I thought this and smiled.
I turned the pages over and found some writing on the bottom of the last page. Two words: April and Munsten. This was translated in the month of April in Munsten, the capital city of the Realm, well north and on the east coast. I had no idea what year and even if the book still existed, but it was real and might still be there.
With this knowledge, my path was laid out in front of me. I was going to have to head to Munsten. I had to find and read the entire manuscript.
I spent the morning of the next day reading and re–reading Daukyns' notes and the three manuscript pages until I had them memorised. When I was finished, I hid the pages back inside Daukyns' book and tucked it safely into the bottom of my pack. For a time I thought ahead to the journey I was contemplating. The thought of travelling to Munsten was daunting, to say the least. I only rudimentarily knew the way and I would need better directions and better supplies if I were to survive the distance. I knew the roads were patrolled but the highwaymen would know the patrol timings better than anyone and they would pose a constant threat. I could only hope that a sole traveller like me would not make for a tempting target. But the hard truth was that no one traveled the roads alone and lived to tell about it – except for one man that I knew: the Reeve. It was tempting to simply slip off into the night and attempt the journey by myself but I knew that my chances would be slim. For a moment I considered staying to the woods and fields, but that would add months and months to my journey. The roads were the only sane route I could take and once I committed myself to that choice, I would need to seek the confidence of the Reeve. There was also the benefit of knowing that someone at least knew where I was heading.
Duilleog (A New Druids Series Book 1) Page 13
