The boy looked to be around thirteen years of age, clean, with clothes that marked him as a the son of a well-to-do family. His trousers were black and looked to be made of very fine wool, his shoes were dark brown rabbit’s hide, his shirt was white with black stripes that ran vertically down the sleeves and he had a green leather vest he wore over it. There were numerous pockets along the front and back of the vest that lead Tartum to believe he was a merchant’s or possibly a minor lord’s son. Either way, the boy’s clothes must have cost more than any trinket he had slipped into his pockets. Tartum assumed he was used to getting his way, by the way he was refusing to pay or put the item back. It was too bad really, on any other day he would have talked to Savall about recruiting the boy, bravery like his was rare. Unfortunately for the boy, this was Shu-Shu’s shop, and Tartum was itching to cast his new spell. The boy still hadn’t moved and seemed to be getting ready to run for it.
“Have it your way then, child.” he said, as he opened himself to the magic.
The boy did something then Tartum did not expect. Pulling a very expensive looking dagger from inside his vest, the boy charged him. The sudden attack stunned him, and the boy was almost on him when his brain caught up. Seeing the boy raise the dagger over his head, Tartum had only seconds to respond. Instinct took over, as he infused the salt and threw it at the boy while speaking the words to his spell.
“Illi-kik!” he commanded. The boy was just about to stab him, when a look of shock spread across his face, and he halted his charge. Screaming, he ran into the counter and slammed his head hard against the floor as he fell. The look on the boy’s face when the spell had taken ahold of him was all Tartum could focus on, and he began to laugh very hard. The fact that the spell had worked, and saved his life at the same time, further fueled his mirth, and he had to lean on the counter to hold himself up. By the time he got control of himself, Shu-Shu had reappeared and walked around her counter to see what was so funny. When she saw the boy, she gave Tartum a quizzical look and checked his pulse.
“Shu-Shu no gets you Tartum. Why beat up the boy?” she asked.
Tartum smiled, “I think he was stealing from you, Shu-Shu. I gave him the option of paying for it or putting it back, and instead he attacked me. My spell wasn’t supposed to hurt him; he did that himself when he panicked. You should have seen the look on his face! Priceless!” he explained.
At the mention of theft, Shu-Shu began rummaging through the boys pockets. Removing two chicken feet from his vest she began to shake with fury.
“THIEF!!! THIEF!!! How dare you steal from Shu-Shu!” she shrieked at the boy’s inert form. Before Tartum could stop her, she began pummeling the boy’s face causing a lot of damage before he pulled her off. She fought him for every inch and was able to kick the boy a few times before he could pick her up and get her away from him. Tartum was in good shape and was very impressed with the fight she had given him trying to get at the boy.
“Shu-Shu, calm down! Get the guards. They’ll deal with him the right way! You don’t want to kill the boy; they might throw you in the dungeons for that! Calm down! Get the guards, and maybe they’ll make his parents pay for the damages!” he said to her. He didn’t really care if the boy died or not, he did care about Shu-Shu getting thrown in prison and him losing a very good source for spell components.
The mention of compensation got through to her, and as she backed down, Tartum sighed in relief. As he stood there waiting for her to collect herself, three guards burst into the shop causing Shu-Shu to scream in shock and duck behind the counter. The guards took one look at Tartum and began to advance on him.
He held up his hands, trying to show he wasn’t going to fight them. Nothing could have been further from the truth. He just didn’t want to escalate things any further unless they forced him. Looking behind the counter, Tartum began to lean over it to call Shu-Shu out of hiding when the guards misinterpreted his actions and shouted at him.
“You, there! DON’T MOVE!!! Shu-Shu! Are you alright?” the leader asked. He was equipped with a halberd and a suit of steel plate mail. He held the halberd with an expert’s grip. Tartum wondered how he would fare in combat against the man. His two companions leveled crossbows at him and looked prepared to use them on a moment’s notice. They didn’t concern him in the least. He had his arrow dome up and doubted their bolts were magical.
Shu-Shu poked her head over the counter and assessed the situation. Tartum watched the gears in her head slowly made sense of everything that was happening. Just as he was sure he was going to have to fight the guards and possibly destroy the store to escape Shu-Shu ran out from behind the counter and threw herself between the guards and himself.
“No, no Roland! Not the caster! The boy! The boy is thief! Shu-Shu catch him STEALING! Tartum friend! Tartum help stop thief, boy attack Shu-Shu’s friend!” she told the guard. Shu-Shu balled up her fists that still had some of the boy’s blood on them and waved them at the guard, “I put boy down, Tartum not let me kill thief. Tells Shu-Shu to get guards. You here now, you kill thief!”
It took the guard named Roland a moment to process everything Shu-Shu had said to him. Tartum watched him nervously and waited for Roland to make his next move. Roland walked over to the boy and checked to see if he was still alive. Once he was satisfied, he looked at Tartum and scrutinized him for a moment. Tartum was positive he was about to attack when suddenly the man seemed to disarm. With a sigh, he shouldered his halberd and gave the other men a signal. They shouldered their weapons and moved to stand by the door.
“I apologize for my haste, good caster. Shu-Shu is a friend, and I thought you were trying to rob her. I meant no disrespect; I just wanted to ensure her safety.” he said. Tartum believed the man was sincere and was caught off guard by his sudden change in attitude.
“Ummm, no need to apologize, you did what you thought was right. I’ll uhhh, I’ll be going now.” Tartum replied, as he made his way towards the exit.
Roland stepped in front of him, halting his escape. “Allow me to shake the hand of the man that stopped the thief. Tartum, was it? Most men wouldn’t have done anything; it’s good to know there are some good people left in the city.” Roland said, as he held his hand out for Tartum to shake.
Tartum shook the man’s hand. His grip was firm but not so much that it caused him pain. “Yes, I’m Tartum. I believe Shu-Shu called you Roland?” he replied. He came to terms with the fact he wasn’t going to get out of there anytime soon and resigned himself to talk with Roland until he could excuse himself.
“Well met, Tartum. Yes, I am Roland. Sergeant of the royal guards of Saroth. It would seem I am indebted to you do for your service to the Tarishu. If ever you have need of the city guards, ask for me. I will do what I can for you, sir.” As he finished, Roland snapped to attention and gave Tartum a crisp salute. Stunned, Tartum returned the gesture.
“Thank you, Roland, uhhh…Sergeant Roland. May I leave now? I’m late getting home.” he said. He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous around Roland; he seemed to be a likeable person. Once he stopped waving his halberd at him, Tartum found himself wanting to befriend the man; yet something was urging him to flee. He assumed it had to do with the fact that he had seven pieces of evidence in his pack showing he had robbed the bishop within the last week.
Roland looked ashamed, “Of course! I apologize for keeping you. We will see to the rest. Thank you again, Tartum!”
“Yes, yes! Thank you, Tartum!” Shu-Shu said. She waved to him and began moving towards the boy. Tartum watched as Roland intercepted her, much to her disappointment. The men, who a moment ago, were ready to fire crossbow bolts through him, nodded and smiled as he left. Tartum felt as if the world had been turned upside down and inside out but returned their pleasantries and half ran, half jogged back to the guild. When he got into the alley, he checked to make certain he wasn’t followed and headed inside. Once back into his room, he dropped his purchases on the table and collapsed in his chair.
> He sat there for a moment gathering himself, and he thought about the events of the week. A week ago, he broke into the palace and robbed the second most powerful man in Saroth. A day later he made an enemy of the future bishop of Saroth and possibly lost Elizabeth’s affection for completing their mission. The next day, he almost doubled his spell repertoire and found instructions on how to make a ring that would make him one of the most powerful casters to have ever lived. Five days after the theft, he had a sergeant in the royal guards telling him he owed him a favor for basically using an adolesent thief as a practice dummy. The irony of the world never ceased to amaze him, and today was a prime example. As he sat there trying to make sense of the universe, Buddy came out from under the bed and looked at him. With all the excitement, Tartum realized he had forgotten to have someone watch Buddy. It didn’t surprise him that Buddy looked fine and had somehow scavenged food and water from the containers in his room and possibly from elsewhere in the compound.
After giving Buddy a good rub down that he appeared to enjoy immensely, Tartum jumped up and looked at him.
“Wanna get something to eat, Bud?” he asked him.
The look on Buddy’s face was one of excitement. An enthusiastic bark was more than enough of a reply.
“Come on then, big dumb dog!” Tartum laughed, as he took his friend up to the kitchens to find him some real food to eat.
CHAPTER 30
Tartum grunted as he placed the final acorn boat into the hole he had created in the training room, back when he was mastering his fireball spell. For the past three days, he had been inside this room practicing the spells he had components for. Each spell thrilled him more than the last. After binding all of his new scrolls with his spell book Tartum began practicing them one after the other; as he had hoped, he had them mastered in less than a week.
The Wall of Force spell worked almost exactly as he hoped. He infused the shard of glass with his magic and then said the words of power. Where ever the glass was as he spoke the final syllable, it instantly became a magical field that stopped everything from getting through. The only problem with the spell was if an object struck the wall with enough force, it shattered the wall and he had to recast the spell. He came up with the idea to fortify the walls by casting mutiple fields one after another. It did nothing to strengthen the walls themselves, but it gave extra layers of protection at the cost of extra pieces of glass. The barriers also worked as a simple alarm system. Each time a field shattered, it sounded like a window breaking. It was very attention grabbing, and Tartum figured it would be a great way to keep watch if he ever found himself sleeping outdoors again.
The Acorn Boat was much simpler than he expected it to be. All he had to do was infuse an acorn with magic and drop it on the ground. After reciting the words of power, the meat of the acorn elongated into a canoe shaped boat large enough for two people and a few supplies. The cap of the acorn broke away from the meat and broke into two pieces. The pieces of cap then morphed into two oars, perfectly sized for the user. The transformation was apparently permanent, seeing as the scroll gave no instruction on how to dispell the boat after you were done with it. Tartum hadn’t realized this until he had created six of them in the training room. At first, this concerned him, but a use for the boats quickly came to mind, and Tartum stacked them into position to be used as target dummies.
Carefully pulling a rose thorn from his pouches, Tartum infused it with his magic and began to cast The Grasp spell. “Fur-turit! Shrepa!” he commanded.
The thorn melted into his hand; Tartum watched as a ghostly visage of his hand emerged from his corporeal arm. He experimented with his new appendage, it was amazing to him how lifelike it felt. It was as if this ethereal limb had been a part of him his entire life, and he was only now discovering it. Looking over to the stack of boats, Tartum reached out for the closest one and was thrilled to see his ethereal arm extend towards his target. As it closed the distance, the hand grew in size, by the time it reached the boat it had grown just large enough to wrap its fingers around the center of the boat. Tartum could feel his ghostly hand holding the boat and tried lifting it. The boat was easily sixty pounds, but his magical arm picked it up like it was a feather. Slowly, Tartum retracted his flesh and blood arm and watched as the boat came slowly towards him. With a grin, Tartum made the motion of throwing the acorn boat and saw his magical arm mimicked his movement sending the boat into the pile against the wall like an impromptu arrow. The boats were resilient and the damage was minimal, but Tartum was pleased none-the-less. He could tell this new grasp spell would be very “handy” in the future.
With no algae or water to use for his palate changer or underwater breathing spell, Tartum pulled out the spell component he had been saving for last. The item Shu-Shu had told him was a golcock’s eye. He had his doubts but put them aside in the light of the trust he had decided to put in her. Going over the spell one last time Tartum prepared to cast his Ray of Magic spell. Sweat formed on his brow from his excitement and fear. If the spell was anything like the scroll had described, this might be the most amazing magic he had ever cast. It was through no small effort on his part that he had saved it for last.
Placing the eye in his right hand, he covered it with his left and infused it with his magic. Immediately, he felt the eye get warm and an eerie green light began to shine out of the spaces between his fingers. Refusing to let the unexpected lightshow break his concentration, Tartum reared back and began casting his most anticipated spell.
“Vuxzabaffe! Ipisot-ki’wai!” he commanded. He began speaking the words of power normally, but with the magnitude of power forming in his hands he felt invigorated beyond anything he had ever experienced. He felt alive with power; it was as if the spell used his whole body to charge it with energy. By the time he was ready to speak the final word, he was shouting.
Thrusting his hands towards the boats, Tartum shouted the final word of power, “Xua-Haa!!!”
A cylinder of green and white light fired out of his hands and blasted into the boats. Anything touched by the beam was instantly vaporized, and Tartum was lost in the ecstasy. The spell pulled magic from the source directly through him and focused it into the eye in his hands. Upon uttering the final word of the spell the concentrated power shot away from him in the form of an incredible display of destruction. To his wonder, the spell did not end after he finished speaking the final word of power, nor did it wane after the boats had been eliminated. It continued to channel out of him and was quickly eating through the wall of the room. Tartum was torn, the joy this unbridled power gave him was something he never wanted to surrender, yet that little voice in his head was screaming for him to stop. Reluctantly, he yielded to the voice and released his hold on the magic. The beam dissipated slowly, and as the waves of power running through him diminished he felt himself getting weaker and weaker, until he was laying on the floor of the training room desperately trying to catch his breath.
If he could have breathed, he would have been laughing. Never had a spell made him feel so alive, so impervious! He wished he had more golcock eyes so that he could do it again and again. He promised himself to find a pair of these animals and breed them so he always had a fresh supply. After a few minutes enough of his strength had returned for him to sit up and assess the damage his spell had done. What he saw made his heart skip a beat. The crater was no longer a crater, his spell had formed a perfectly cylindrical hallway that extended about sixty yards into solid rock. At first, he was worried about how he would explain this to Rashlarr, then he remembered the scrolls were already merged with his spell book, and there was very little he could do to take them from him now. Looking at the new addition to the training room, Tartum laughed, perhaps for the right price he would make Rashlarr a copy of this spell, he couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when he explained what happened.
Standing up, Tartum had to lean on his staff to keep his balance. The spell took quite the toll on him, and he felt very weak, bu
t not tired; just very hungry and thirsty. Gathering up his things, Tartum left the room and headed towards the kitchen. As weakened as he was, he couldn’t get the smile off his face. His new Ray of Magic spell was everything he had hoped for and more, he couldn’t wait for a chance to rob another caster and discover another spell that would make him feel as blissful and alive as this one had.
…
Half way to the kitchens, Tartum was almost bowled over by Elizabeth, as she came running around a corner. She looked frightened, and he grabbed her to stop himself from falling and to find out why she was so spooked.
“Whoa! Slow down, babe! What’s going on?” he asked.
She looked at him as if she didn’t recognize him for a moment. He saw her eyes focus on him and quickly got control of herself. He wished she could adjust to everything as quickly as she did to fear.
“We’re under attack! The whole compound was shaking! They must have breached us from the lower levels. Were you there? Did you see who it was?? Is it the bishop? Has he found us?!” she asked. She had control of herself for the moment, but Tartum could tell she was seconds away from panicking. Quickly, he explained.
“Babe! Calm down, it was me. I was practicing a new spell, and it got a little out of control. No one is attacking us, it was just my spells.”
She looked at him like he was an insect, “Show me!” she demanded.
Tartum was having none of this. She had treated him like a cancer for the past week, all because he had succeeded where she had failed. For her to think she could order him around like a recruit was the last straw.
“Fuck you! You want proof? Take yourself to the training room and look. I’m hungry and getting something to eat. Get the hell out of my way, you lunatic!” he told her as harshly as he could. He could tell she was stunned by his words, but he didn’t care. When she didn’t immediately move out of his way, he shoved her to the side and brushed past her continuing his way towards the kitchens. It felt very good to give her a dose of her own medicine. He was disgusted by her behavior recently, he couldn’t understand how one minute she could love him so intensely, and the next, avoid him like the plague.
The Jade Mage: The Becoming: Volume 2 Page 18
