A Forthcoming Wizard

by Jody Lynn Nye

  “Abbess, it is time,” Loisan said, his big face full of concern.

  Sharhava nodded sharply. “Yes. It is time, and long past. Let us go.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  f Rin was incensed at the reappearance of the Scholardom, Lakanta was in full flame. She marched toward the gangplank and stationed herself at the head of it, before the first of the arriving knights could set foot on deck. Abbess Sharhava and Lady Inbecca, at the head of the line, stopped short, taken aback by the sight of the small trader woman, her face red and braids askew.

  “Haroun Betiss,” Lakanta bellowed. The tone of her voice made Tildi quail. “Do not dare let a single one of these people on board this ship, or I will curse you and every one of your family never to earn another copper in the rest of your days!” She broke into the snarling and guttural language and carried on with her tirade.

  Haroun made his way toward her across the crowded deck, followed by the newcomers, protesting in a mewling voice like a puppy. Lakanta stretched up and took hold of his ear and dragged him down to her eye level. He dropped to his knee.

  “Don’t give me an excuse like that! What in the name of the Mother were you thinking? And you!” She turned on the older male. “Have you been fooled by words? Did they bribe you? How much money could possibly have persuaded you to break a promise and set free the killers of people like ourselves?”

  The older male protested. “Do not say such things! I would never break my given word.”

  “Wouldn’t you?” Lakanta asked, stabbing behind her with a thumb. “Then, what are they doing here?”

  The woman gave a short howl to interrupt her. Lakanta, still holding firmly to Haroun’s ear, turned. In her indignation and fury, the dwarf woman seemed larger and more formidable than all three Sheatovrans.

  “Halt, stone sister.” The woman held up a hand and offered a series of yips and wails. Lakanta started to interrupt her, then halted, mouth open.

  “What is she saying?” Tildi whispered to Master Olen, whose mouth had turned up at the corner.

  “Hush, my dear, I’m listening.”

  The gray-haired woman offered a musical arpeggio that scaled up and down in a minor key, though it sounded far from mournful to Tildi. The explanation went on for some time.

  Lakanta listened, then laughed heartily. “Is that true, then? By Father Time himself,” and her voice trailed off into an ululation that ended in a high bark. The senior female replied shortly. Lakanta’s blue eyes gleamed like the werewolves.’ “Well, moon sister, I’ll have to take your word for it. As you say, seeing’s believing.” She let go of Haroun and put her hands on her hips. The young captain sprang out of reach and rubbed his aching ear.

  Lakanta eyed Sharhava up and down. “It’d better be true, then, or there’s going to be a wetting, and I am ready to dispense it.”

  Olen had listened throughout with an answering glint in his green eyes. “Come here by our side, then, Lakanta. You’ll have the vantage to see and hear whatever it is that my lady Sharhava has to say.”

  The werewolves stilled their happy badinage and parted to form an aisle. The exchange in their tongue had evidently let the crew of the Corona know for what purpose the knights had come. Lakanta marched as proudly as a queen and took up a stance with folded arms at Rin’s side.

  The stern woman at the head of the Scholardom had cheeks of fire. Beside her, Lady Inbecca had gone pale, but both of them held themselves proudly. Tildi had another moment of shock, when she saw Sharhava’s right hand, which had been burned to a black claw the last time she had seen it, restored to flesh, though it was an angry pink. Much, clearly, had changed.

  What is it?” Soliandur’s peevish voice came from behind her. Olen turned and gestured grandly to the two kings.

  “Come, my lords, and greet the new arrivals.”

  “Who is it?” the lord of Rabantae demanded. Halcot pressed forward, Soliandur close behind. Magpie moved to make way for them. “Who holds the ship? Great heavens, Lady Sharhava. Is it you? You look like you’ve aged a century.”

  “I thank you for your courtesy,” Sharhava said haughtily. “I did not expect to see either of you here.”

  Soliandur looked a trifle discomfited. “Master Olen informed me that my son would be here at this time in this place. I was concerned for his well-being—as it seemed you were, when you left my hall in such a hurry.”

  “It was a matter of the greatest importance, my brother,” Sharhava said.

  “So my lord Halcot has told me,” Soliandur said dryly. “If this is the end of the world I never want it said that I didn’t do my part to help save it.”

  “How comforting that you do not come to your duty too late,” Sharhava said. “I am sure that your concern will be of interest to my sister and goodbrother.”

  “It will be my honor to send a message to them. I am glad to see my prospective gooddaughter is looking well.”

  “No thanks to your irresponsible son!”

  Halcot clapped them both heartily on the back. “I am glad to see that the miles and months have not changed your affection for each other.” They both glared at him.

  Olen cleared his throat gently. “You mention duty, my lady,” he said.

  Sharhava recovered herself magnificently. Tildi trembled as the formidable woman turned away from the two kings and gazed down upon her. She backed up until she bumped into Olen and Serafina. Then, to her deep and memorable shock, Sharhava dropped to her knee before her. The sea-blue eyes bored deeply into hers.

  “Mistress Summerbee,” Sharhava began, “you have no reason to trust me, but I will ask for that faith. I apologize for the distress I and my knights have caused you. I and my people lost sight of our order’s original aim. I’ve found it again. I was wrong in my thinking. Recent events”—and she glanced at the senior werewolf female—“have made me reexamine our beliefs. I may deplore the circumstances that brought you and those like you into existence, but it is not up to me to question your being now that you are here. I hope you will forgive us—me—and permit us to accompany you on the rest of your journey. Our mission, as of old, is to protect the Great Book. We ask only to guard you and your burden where you bear it, to where you choose.”

  For all the words roiling up inside her, for all the anger she bore and the fear that had haunted her since the moment Tildi had seen Sharhava on board the neighboring ship, she could not think of a single thing to say. She stared at the abbess.

  “So you no longer wish to destroy our likes, do you?” Rin asked, her nostrils flaring and eyes disks of jade fire.

  “No, Princess,” Sharhava said calmly. “I have come to agree with those of wiser perspective. Do not chide me. I will not take abuse. I offer my apologies for past transgressions. Take them or leave them.”

  “You don’t sound that repentant,” Lakanta sniffed.

  “She is, my friend,” Inbecca said. “Please be satisfied with it. You don’t know what this costs her.”

  Lakanta blew out between her lips. “Do I care what it costs her? I’m only glad she came up with the right answer before she decided to turn my people into rocks, or whatever they had in store,” the trader said. Sharhava pursed her lips tightly, but she bowed her head. Lakanta raised her chin triumphantly.

  “The timing was fortunate,” Magpie agreed. “Come, let’s make peace.” He put out his own hand. Very slowly, Tildi followed suit. Sharhava clasped it in both of hers without hesitation. She looked down, a little surprised and, could Tildi believe it, disappointed?

  “I expected the fire,” the abbess said.

  “No longer,” Serafina said. “The danger has abated, but only in Tildi. The book is still as perilous as ever.”

  “I am glad of it,” Sharhava said. “I am not the only one who will ever be tempted by it.” She seemed reluctant to let go, but she released Tildi’s hand.

  “The other chapters of the order will be displeased with you,” Halcot pointed out. “Whatever your timely revelation, the re
st are still practicing as they have been. They will consider your actions anathema, won’t they?”

  “So be it,” Sharhava said. “I will explain myself to them one day, in my own good time. They will accept my reasons. I am their abbess. They follow me and my interpretation of the rules of the order. I do not do what is popular. I have tried to do what is right, though I have not done right, as history finds me. We have gone astray from our mandate. I wish dearly to make amends for it. My knights feel the same.”

  “It’s a trick,” said Lakanta, speaking aloud the thought that gnawed at the back of Tildi’s mind. “Don’t trust her.”

  What should she do? The abbess kept staring at her hungrily. All over again, Tildi felt the fears and dreads she had suffered among the Scholardom. How had Sharhava managed to get the werewolves to break the promise they had made to Irithe?

  She felt a hand clasp her shoulder. Serafina. The young wizardess held tightly, and through the grip Tildi felt a light quiver, like a rhythm, that permeated her bones. The quiver spread until it filled her entire body, then slowed very gradually to a walking tempo, a pulse. She looked up at her teacher, who smiled at her. Yes, she needed to regain her balance as the bearkin had taught her. She closed her eyes and let the soothing beat slow her racing heart.

  With Sharhava’s gaze no longer troubling her, she let herself listen to the abbess’s own pulse. It was jumpy and thready. She was frightened. Of Tildi?

  “May I have your answer, Mistress Summerbee?” Sharhava asked, sounding almost humble. “I would like to know if we have made this journey in vain. If you do not wish us to serve you, then we will go. Captain Temur will not follow. We will find passage back to Levrenn, and not trouble you further.”

  “I would not turn down such an honor guard, Mistress Summerbee,” Soliandur said softly, “though it is your choice.”

  “I am satisfied with the one we have had,” Tildi said, turning to smile at Teryn and Morag. “They have been enough for us. They have been so brave, Your Highness.”

  Halcot harrumphed, but he looked pleased.

  “We could not defend you against them, honored one,” Teryn pointed out. “Give credit where credit is due: they are a force that little can withstand. Their organization and training . . . well, it’s formidable. I’d take the offer.”

  “Do not deny us a chance to serve the Great Book,” Sharhava said. “It is what our order was formed to do, after all. Forgive us.”

  “I . . . it’s not my place to give someone like you forgiveness,” Tildi said, feeling very uncomfortable. Sharhava looked dismayed. She hastened to explain. “You’re highborn. I mean, if things were different, you wouldn’t even speak to someone like me, would you?”

  Sharhava’s mouth twisted wryly. “Most likely you are right. My pride would have prevented me from conversing with a mere farm woman, and I would be more the fool, wouldn’t I? I cannot do what you are doing. I can only offer to aid you.”

  “As do we all,” Loisan said. The other knights murmured agreement. Tildi felt overwhelmed and very small.

  “Then, all I can say is thank you,” she said. The book seemed to bob with pleasure at her side.

  “Even they . . . ?” Olen prompted.

  “Oh, yes,” Tildi said. She looked up at Olen. “I meant what I said.” She turned back to Sharhava. “Master Olen has inscribed all our runes on a sheet of metal in case . . . in case . . .”

  Sharhava’s lips tightened. “I understand.”

  “So, we have to do the same with all of you. It would have helped, you know, but I never thought Bertin would . . .”

  Sharhava looked at first as though she had been slapped, then reached out to take Tildi’s hand again. “Since my eyes were opened I have met the most remarkable people,” she said, “all better than I could have imagined, and better than I am myself.”

  Ano srdeg imva!” Olen commanded.

  Tildi enjoyed the bespelling more the second time. Master Olen, in his wisdom, had provided the means. At his command a second sheet of gold metal came flying out of the cupboard in the main cabin and presented itself before him. Patha refused to have her name beside the knights’.

  “Even if it means some of us will be on the back of this piece of metal,” she said, her fierce golden gaze meeting Olen’s mild green one.

  “Oh, I think there is room,” he said. “The first board is only two-thirds full. There is plenty of space for you.” Tildi gave him a suspicious glance, which he met with a twinkle. She should have known he did everything to a purpose. “I shall bring it out.” And he did. Patha looked satisfied.

  How very different it was from the steadily worsening weeks she had spent in the Scholardom’s company before. The knights were humbled and honored to be included.

  “You did tell the boy, mistress,” Auric said, his kindly gaze bent upon her as she copied his rune onto the metal. “We should have done this weeks back, I believe. Many of us thought it after that time. You did try to help him. I hope your conscience is clear on that.”

  “It is,” Tildi said. “I’m only sad about his death. Thank you.”

  “Thank you, gracious lass.” Auric bent and placed his hand on his heart.

  Once the names had all been inscribed, Olen took his place on the high aft deck to address the throng. The kings stood to either side of him. Tildi felt dazzled by the illustriousness of the company, but reminded herself how serious an expedition they were mounting.

  “My lords of Orontae and Rabantae join me in making you welcome in our company. Only a few of you were present at the council in which this task was undertaken. I will reiterate for those who have become part of our mission. Tildi?”

  Tildi gave a whisper of thought to the voices, and the Great Book soared into the air over their heads. The knights murmured to themselves. It sounded like one of the litanies she had heard in their camp. The werewolves exclaimed upon the book’s beauty, and a few speculated on its probable worth to collectors. Tildi’s face must have reflected her shock, for Lakanta leaned over and poked her in the side. The dwarf woman looked amused.

  “Don’t be surprised; they are merchants. I’ve valued it myself.” Tildi giggled.

  Olen cleared his throat to silence them. “Behold the Great Book. I am very pleased to be able to see it in the flesh, so to speak. It is a marvelous object, and a dangerous one. All of you have seen by now the runes set upon your bodies. These are reflections of your reality reduced to a symbol. They are present all of the time, visible to wizards and others with the second sight, but the presence of the book among you renders them visible to all—and vulnerable, as some among you can attest. To change the rune is to change reality. An appealing power, you believe?” Olen looked around at his audience. “Not so. That change can be permanent and devastating. Because of this effect, the book is a danger to you—to all of you. It will continue to be a danger as long as it is about in the world. Our duty is to remove it to the place where it was safely kept for thousands of years, and secure it once again. It is not so simple a task as it sounds. The book is being stalked by at least one foe, the one who controls the creatures called thraiks. He, or they, want it enough to kill for it. It is worth killing for.”

  The werewolves yipped to one another.

  “We have taken what steps we can to protect you, but be ready for attack. I have foreseen several possible outcomes to our mission. I can only thank you all for being willing to undertake this journey with us.

  “Now that everyone has arrived, we must make ready to leave here. I see by my art that we have little time before we will be separated. I hope to complete the party before that moment, but my vision branches out into too many possibilities.

  “As there are too many for one ship to carry, the Corona and Eclipse will sail together. I am reliably informed,” Olen added with a smile, “that they had always intended to do so. The third ship in their party will meet us above Tillerton, to make the crossing to the south. With such a strong company, I hope that we will
be able to withstand any further incursions that may be made by our unseen opponent. We will be protected by steel, but also by spells. Mistress Serafina, would you be so good as to increase the wards to encompass the second ship and her complement?”

  Serafina colored lightly. “As you please, master. Tildi, you may assist me. Crotegh mai ni eng!”

  Hastily, Tildi drew her knife and followed Serafina’s lead.

  Olen watched for a moment and murmured to himself, “Must see about getting you a wand.”

  Inbecca stood with Sharhava at a distance from the wizards, watching them work their wonder on the sheet of metal. Her aunt was so relieved that Tildi had allowed them to offer their service that she found it difficult to rise from her knees. Loisan and Auric had helped her up and found her a seat. Sharhava stared incessantly at the smallfolk girl and the whirling scroll, the object of her affection, not to say obsession.

  She could still hardly believe that King Halcot of Rabantae and King Soliandur were there. She blushed when she looked their way. The last time she had seen either man, she had not been in a good mood. Her rash behavior had been an awkward thing she could ignore while on the chase to find Tildi and in the long weeks on the road since, but there before her were two of the most important witnesses. She put her chin up. She had to live with the consequences, no matter how much shame it brought her.

  A warm hand caught hers, and a warm scent made her startle. Eremi stood beside her. He smiled.

  “You were so deep in thought.”

  “Were you surprised to see your father?” she asked.

  Eremi’s bright eyes glinted like peridots. “I thought I would turn to stone,” he said, a note of wonder in his voice. “But he came. He brought me my jitar.”

  “He did?” Inbecca asked, her voice rising to a squeak. Both of them knew how difficult it was for Eremi’s father to make a kindly gesture toward his third son. “Is it . . . I apologize for asking . . . is it playable?”