"Resume your human forms. I would speak with people, not animals," she ordered scathingly.
She watched as they slowly morphed from wolf, bear, jungle cat, and snake into human form. Soon, she was faced with twenty naked humans of both genders. They look almost as wild in human form as they do as animals, she thought to herself.
"Have you been briefed on our mission?" Megan asked. A lanky man with long, tangled, black hair stepped forward. She noted him as having previously been one of the wolves.
"We have been informed of what we are to do, Wizard," he replied haltingly. Apparently he was unused to speaking.
"And you know the one we are bringing back is not to be harmed in any way?"
"Aye. Mortow made that very clear."
"And you know what this one looks like, so there will be no mistakes?"
"Aye. We have all been shown his face."
"Good. Then I suggest we be about our business. I want to be back in Gratton by morning. Come, all of you, and I will take you across."
The Weres came forward and stood tightly packed around her, ensuring that each was touching another. The black haired man extended his hand to her. Megan reached out and grasped his filthy hand with obvious distaste. She placed her other hand on the altar stone and thought of the other world. The scenery shifted without transition. The intact and maintained altar stone was now a broken, crumbling mass. The ring of sentinel stones surrounding it were toppled and broken as well, with most of the lintel stones missing. Megan checked a sigh when she noticed it was raining. The bright moon of Thelona was gone, and she stood beneath a dark, overcast sky. Well, at least the rain will work to our advantage. It will make it easier to approach undetected, she thought. Still clasping the black haired man’s hand, she visualized the forest encompassing the house that was their destination.
"I am going to teleport us to the forest that surrounds his house. Once we arrive, I want all of you to change back to your other forms. Do not rush in. Pair off and look for guards. Try to take them out as silently as possible. We are not sure how many will be there, and I do not want to lose the element of surprise any sooner than we must. Is that understood?"
"Aye, we know what we’re about," the black haired man assured her.
"Make sure that you do," Megan said caustically, and then she spoke the words of the transport spell. Stonehenge lay empty and silent upon the land once again.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Michael woke to a knock at the door. He moved to sit up and nearly cried out in pain. He fell back onto the pillow panting. He heard the knock again, a little louder this time. He rolled over and fell out of the bed onto his hands and knees. He was incredibly sore. He felt as if Branik had used his entire body as a punching bag. Michael began crawling toward the door. The knock came again, more insistent this time. He reached up and released the bolt, and pulled himself to his feet with the aid of the doorknob. He would not have believed so much pain could be felt by one person alone. He leaned against the door frame and opened the door. There stood Branik, smiling at him like the cat that ate the bird.
Reflexively, Michael reached out with his mind and made an adjustment to the shielding around his room. He stood up straight, his pain momentarily forgotten. He realized that he had, without conscious thought, just altered the field to allow Branik to enter. He motioned for Branik to come inside, and limped over to the garderobe to relieve himself. Branik crossed the threshold still smiling.
"I trust you had a restful night," Branik said.
Michael called out from behind the curtain of the garderobe.
"What night? I feel like I just laid down and closed my eyes. My body feels like it was run over by a truck," Michael replied. He drew aside the curtain and looked Branik in the eye.
"Do you have to look so self-satisfied about it?"
"If you tell me what a truck is," Branik suggested, "then I can tell you if I am satisfied."
"A truck is a large metal wagon, of sorts, used to haul people and objects around. Normally, being run over by one is fatal."
"Then, yes, I am satisfied. Come, we must get you moving. It will help the soreness."
Michael looked down at himself. He had been so tired last night he hadn’t even undressed. He motioned for Branik to lead the way.
"I am as ready I’ll ever be. Let’s go."
Branik’s face grew serious.
"Trust me, Michael, it will be difficult at first, but once you get your body moving again it will loosen up, and you will feel much better. You will see." Branik turned and walked from the room.
"Easy for you to say," Michael said under his breath.
"You’re not the one who got run over." Michael followed Branik out of the room closing the door behind him. His legs were so sore and stiff that they didn’t even feel like they belonged to him. He hurried to catch up to Branik, limping as he went. The stairs were a slow motion study in exotic torture, and Michael leaned heavily on the handrail as he hobbled down them. By comparison, the walk to the back door was easy. By the time they reached the rock garden, his legs felt like his own again.
Reek was already there, sitting cross-legged on the damp grass with his eyes closed. Michael surveyed the sky. No wonder he felt like he didn’t get any sleep. The sun was not even up yet. The sky was a uniform gray with touches of purple and red painting the horizon off to the east.
"Getting up before the sun should be against some kind of law," Michael grumbled.
Reek opened his eyes and rose fluidly to his feet. He smiled at Michael.
"The new day begins, and the Great One’s plan for us unfolds to reveal new wonders. Come with me, Michael, and we will get you loosened up."
Michael followed Reek to the edge of the rock garden where Reek paused.
"Where are we going?"
"We are going to run a bit to get the blood flowing. The faster the blood pumps, the quicker it will wash away the pain," Reek told him.
Michael looked back. Branik was seated on the ground as Reek had been.
"What is he doing?"
"Morning meditation."
"That looks to be more my speed this morning. My aches are even aching."
Reek laughed good naturedly.
"Meditation does not come until the body is fit. If you were to sit and meditate, when you got up, you would feel even worse than you do now. Movement is what your body requires right now. Follow me. I will try to set a pace you can maintain." Without waiting for a reply, Reek took off at a jog and headed for the outer wall surrounding Kantwell. Michael sighed and followed as best he could.
Reek slowed his pace to match Michael’s. He loped along beside him, gauging how much he might push him without unduly tiring him.
"Just a little faster Michael, that’s it. The second time around will be easier."
"Second time around? I’ll be lucky to make it once," Michael stated already starting to breath heavy.
"We must build up your endurance as well as your strength. Without the endurance, no amount of skill will be of aid to you."
"I understand, but that doesn’t make it any easier," Michael panted.
Reek turned to him and laughed.
"No, I suppose it would not. After our run, we will do some stretching with Branik, and then you can go to your magical instruction."
Michael thought, if I survive the run, I will probably fall asleep in class. I’m not cut out for this kind of stuff. They turned with the wall coming around to the front of Kantwell. Michael saw someone in blue robes standing on the front steps leaning against the door frame. As he got closer, he recognized who it was. Mieka was standing there eating what he thought was an apple, watching them run. The sun chose that moment to crest above the walls of Kantwell, reflecting off of her black hair, turning it almost blue in color. As he ran passed, he saw her smile and nod to him. He tried to smile back but failed. He was just too beat.
"It seems you have an audience," Reek stated.
"Anything about her s
eem odd to you?" Michael asked between breaths.
"No, she is quite pleasing to look upon."
"I don’t mean about her physical appearance. I don’t know. There is just something about her, an unusual attraction of some sort," Michael tried to explain.
"There is nothing unusual about being attracted to a beautiful woman, Michael. I think she would make you a good mate. She seems fit and is obviously accomplished in magic." Reek was not looking at Michael as he spoke, so he missed the spasm of pain that passed across his face when he mentioned the word mate. They turned with the wall again and headed around the side of Kantwell.
"I had a wife. There is no one who could replace her," Michael said sullenly.
Reek glanced over at him and saw the pain that even fatigue could not hide.
"I am sorry, Michael. I spoke before I thought. I did not intend to cause you distress."
"That’s alright. Micah told me I needed to move on, but it is hard to do, that’s all. It’s just too soon."
"Only you can know your own heart, Michael. When the time is right, you will know it."
Michael walked in the back door. He was not nearly as sore anymore and, contrary to what he thought he would feel, he was no longer tired. In fact, he felt more awake now than he had for many days. The exercise brought with it an unusual clarity. Looking back, Michael realized he had been responding to outside stimuli instead of actually thinking logically through them. He knew none of this was going to be easy, but he could do it. He had to do it. His life depended on it. Michael walked into the great hall gazing at the statue as he went passed. The statue was uplifting, the embodiment of what a wizard should be. It had been erected by the dwarves in gratitude for the aid of this wizard long ago. This wizard, what did Merric say her name was? Marion. That was it. Marion had done what wizards were supposed to do. She had helped those who came to her seeking aid. This, according to Merric, was the very reason wizards existed. Michael thought on that as he climbed the steps. God knows he didn’t mind helping people, but he found it somewhat disconcerting to think that his life was supposed to be given to others instead of lived for himself. There had to be a middle ground between Merric and Mortow.
He didn’t think he could ever require others to bow to him as Mortow did, but he also could feel perhaps some of what drove Mortow to break from Kantwell. Feeling your life was not your own could drive one to resentment. Still, the magi he met so far seemed to have no problem with it, and Michael had not seen people lined up demanding help from Kantwell. So maybe it was not like he was interpreting it. Maybe the magi were left pretty much alone unless there was desperate need. If that were the case, then Mortow was just a power hungry tyrant who obviously thought too much of himself. It did not matter. Mortow was his enemy and, if there was any way possible, Michael intended to make him pay for killing Karin. But, there was much to learn before that intention could become a reality.
Michael arrived at the door to his room. He entered and stripped off his clothes, throwing them over the back of one of the chairs. He went to the wash basin and gave himself as thorough of a bath as he could. What he wouldn’t give for a nice hot shower. Sniffing his arm pit, he exclaimed.
"Pshew! And some deodorant." There were definitely benefits to be gained from the advancement of civilization. He retrieved a clean robe from the wardrobe and tied his sash around his waist. He was combing his hair when another knock came at his door.
Michael crossed the room and opened the door. He was startled to see Mieka standing there. He had been expecting Martin. He stepped out of the room closing the door behind him.
"M...Mistress Mieka. Good morning. I was expecting Martin," Michael stammered.
She hit him with that smile.
"Please, Michael, we are not in class. It is just Mieka. Having the children address me that way is bad enough, but when you do it, it makes me feel old," she said sighing.
"I beg your pardon...Mieka. I do hope you’ll forgive me. I am still learning the ropes, and I meant it out of respect for your position. I did not mean it to be a reflection on your age. Though I hardly think a woman in her prime can be considered old," Michael said feeling immediately foolish.
Mieka’s smile brightened even more.
"I told Martin I would escort you today. I saw you out running this morning. I assume you have not had breakfast yet?"
"No, after the workout Reek gave me this morning, I felt I needed to clean up first. I didn’t want to run everyone out of the dining hall."
Mieka laughed and took Michael’s arm, leading him down the hall. Her laughter reminded him again of small, silver bells moving in the wind. Her hand on his arm sent his heart into overdrive and thoughts of food fled his mind. Michael shook his head trying to clear it. To try and get his mind off of her, he asked about the lesson plans.
"So what is on the agenda for today?"
"For starters, breakfast. You were to have been in general class today, but you impressed Merric, so he wanted me to bring you to his study again. He wanted to show you something special this morning," Mieka told him.
"Yesterday’s breakfast was fruit, and Martin told me Thursday mornings is porridge, so what do they serve on Wednesdays?" Michael asked.
"Wednesdays they serve bacon and eggs. That was why I was eating an apple outside this morning."
"Are you a vegetarian?"
"I am unfamiliar with that word. What does it mean?"
"Oh, a vegetarian is someone who does not eat meat. They eat only vegetables and fruits," Michael explained.
"Well then, yes, I guess I am a vegetarian."
"I don’t see how you do it. I think I would go crazy if I couldn’t eat beef anymore, and most vegetables taste disgusting to me."
"I grew up on a farm. My father either slaughtered what we ate or grew it. After seeing him actually slaughter a cow, I could no longer eat meat. I could not see killing a living, feeling creature just to sustain me, so from that moment on, I only ate the vegetables we grew and the fruits for which we traded."
"I kind of see your point. I could never slaughter an animal myself. I suppose if I had to hunt and kill my own food, I would probably become a vegetarian as well."
"You do not hunt for food in your world?" Mieka asked surprised.
"Some people do, but not many. Most of us buy our food, already butchered and packaged, in large stores. We then take it home and prepare it."
"I see," Mieka replied.
When they came to the balcony, Michael started to turn left to the stairs leading down to the dining hall, but Mieka, keeping a hold of his arm, steered him to the right and up to the fourth floor. When Michael shot her a puzzled glance, she merely smiled.
"Merric had breakfast delivered to his study this morning for the two of you. I think I have only seen him do that twice since I have been here. It is his right as Headmaster to do as he wishes, but usually he eats in the dining hall like everyone else. He does not like to put the staff out by having them come to him. He wanted to get started early this morning with minimal interruptions, so he decided that we should all eat in his study."
"Oh, you’ll be joining us then? I thought you had to teach class?" Michael inquired.
"Mathis is taking the class for me today. It will do him good to get his nose out of those dusty, old books for a change and interact with the students."
"Martin told me Mathis was the head researcher here. I guess I really don’t know what that means. What does one research about magic?" Michael asked.
"Mostly, what it means is that he hides away reading about spells and long dead wizards. I find it all very boring myself, but he seems to enjoy it. Did you know Merric was the head researcher here in his youth?" Mieka inquired.
"No, I did not know that. I guess it would make sense though, since he is now Headmaster."
"One has nothing to do with the other. The Headmaster is an elected position, generally going to the most level headed wizard. There are certain criteria that must be met, o
f course; one must be a wizard, and have a certain level of general knowledge about magic as well as the world outside Kantwell’s walls; and in times past, when there were many magi in residence at Kantwell, a degree of political aptitude. I, for one, would never want to be Headmaster. There is too much involved in the office. You have very little time of your own. It’s even worse now that there are so few of us," Mieka told him, frowning slightly.
"I would think that would make it easier. Less people would mean less to deal with."
"No, it means he has less help. Merric still has to deal with the day to day administration here in the school, but he also has to deal with problems in the outside world. When there were more wizards, he could delegate some of those responsibilities to trusted subordinates. Now, he has only Mathis and myself to help him. I do the majority of the teaching, which frees up Mathis to help him with those issues outside Kantwell, but Mathis is not a diplomat, quite the opposite in fact. Merric is forced to handle all the really touchy situations himself. I try to help where and when I can, but teaching the new generation takes precedence over most other matters. Without capable and knowledgeable replacements, we will be in serious trouble in the future."
"How many of the students have the potential to be wizards?"
"At present, including you, six, if they study hard, and if we all survive the days ahead. You, of course, are already a wizard, though you will wear the apprentice robes for many years still."
"How long did you apprentice?"
"It is considered inappropriate to inquire about a woman’s age," Mieka said teasingly.
"Sorry. I was just wondering how long of a haul I’m in for."
Mieka looked at him puzzled.
"It is difficult to get used to your way of speaking, but I think I understand the meaning. Most wizard apprentices would study for five to seven years, depending on their ability to control their magic and how quickly they can learn new skills."
"Five to seven years is a long time. Time, I don’t believe we are going to have, if Mortow has anything to say about it."
The Chronicles of the Myrkron: Book 01 - The Nine Keys of Magic Page 38
