Samual

by Greg Curtis

  “Master Lavellin says to tell you that in a couple of days when you're feeling stronger, he looks forward to completing your training.”

  Sam meanwhile looked forward to being able to breathe fully. The robe really was much too tight. Still, he managed to nod politely as he concentrated on thinking small thoughts.

  “Master Riven says your command of the earth magic is still only at the level of an adept, but your perfection of so many shapes speaks of much practice, which is good. If you are willing and have the time, he will be happy to show you those few shapes you have yet to learn, and to help you practice with the rest. Your strength may never be as great as that of a master, though he believes it will grow further as you learn to appreciate its wonder. There is always plenty of work for a well-trained adept in the earth magic. Your skill will be most welcome.”

  Sam tried to look on attentively to Master Bela as he spoke. It was difficult though. He was already feeling drained and weak just from having stood up, and he wanted desperately to sit down before his legs gave way. He knew though that if he did the robe would surely tear in some embarrassing places. So instead, he leaned against the back wall, which was really just the back of the front seat of the wagon, and tried to look relaxed and attentive.

  “Your skills in the natural magics are far less developed than the others, and yet some of the elders believe you have more promise there than you realise, myself included. Especially when you wield that magic in combination with the others. Humans often fail to see the value in the magic of the natural world, and their knowledge of it is limited, as was your library. In time you may well become an adept, and with many more shapes to learn than you yet realise exist. This too can be a powerful weapon for a soldier as well as a tool. You will be welcome to train with the other novitiates when you have the time.”

  “Last and by no means least, you are an enchanter, a rare and useful talent, and as with your other gifts, this is one that cannot begin to be fully understood without much training. So far you have used it only for warfare, and as such barely begun to understand its true value. But once you have learned more of the other shapes of fire, earth and nature, you will find its value to be immense. All of us will be most pleased to aid you in discovering all of the gifts you have been given.”

  For Sam that was all very interesting and welcome. He just wished he could get the Elder to leave the wagon before the robe split.

  “Please tell them I would be honoured to accept any and all the training they can give me Elder.” Sam was actually grateful for the offer of training, particularly from the elves. They were far more accomplished in the magical arts than most humans, and especially those from Fair Fields. They could teach him a lot, and with the likelihood of more battles ahead if his fears were correct, he needed that learning if he was to become as powerful a soldier as he could.

  But it was more than that. He also thought that undertaking their training would help him become more accepted among the elves. That was a necessity given that his wife had now returned to him and he was living among the elves. Ry would expect it of him. For years he had lived beside but not truly among them, as the Elder had rightfully pointed out weeks before. Now, with Ry back in his life and the possibility of a family one day, he had to find a place among them, because he knew he would not be leaving. He would never take Ry away from the comfort and safety of her kith and kin again.

  “I will if you insist young Samual, but I think it might be better coming from you. The Masters have after all been quite patiently waiting for you this last half hour or so.” Caught by surprise, Sam lowered one of the canvas flaps on the side, and peered out. Sure enough half a dozen elders were sitting just outside the wagon on a fallen tree, quietly chatting among themselves and drinking tea while they waited for him to get up and join them. He groaned quietly.

  “Perhaps though it might be best if you wore your own robe instead of your wife's. It looks a little tight.” The Elder pointed to another white robe that had been lying on the bed before he turned and stepped off the back of the wagon.

  Sam stared in horror at the guilty artefact which had been right in front of his nose all the time. He had the strangest feeling Master Bela was smiling for the first time as he left. All but laughing in fact.

  “Another few moments' patience Elder!”

  Sam called out after the Elder's rapidly disappearing back, and for a response got merely a wave of the arm. But it was enough, as he hurriedly tried to squirm his way out of one robe and into his own one. He guessed he would have a little time at least. The elders like every other elf in the caravan, had been taking things slowly these past few days.

  After the mad rush from Shavarra had ended with the defeat of the second wave of the rats, progress had slowed considerably as the scouts continued to report no new enemies giving chase. And it had slowed ever more as the caravan had grown in size. Then progress had almost stopped once they had reached Fair Fields, as wagon after wagon needed food and provisions. So now they stopped every day for a few hours while traders from all over the realm came visiting. Apparently the word of the elves' plight, and more importantly their coin, had spread fast.

  Thus far prices had not reached the level of highway robbery, though from what Ry had told him, they were higher than he was used to. That was only because the goods they were seeking were still in plentiful supply, even for a caravan of such size, and because they were passing through some of the best farming land in any realm. The war masters had already purchased more than fifteen hundred horses, and all the food that the traders could bring, and their provisions were holding up well.

  The result was that the caravan had moved into a new mode of travel. They started late each morning to allow for a good breakfast to be cooked, took a two hour lunch break during which the people engaged in trade, and then stopped well before sunset so that they could prepare the evening meal. And of course to conduct yet more trade. They were lucky to cover more than a couple of leagues a day.

  As Sam could smell food cooking, he guessed that it must be just on dinner time. That being the case, Sam knew the elders wouldn't be staying long. They would want to get back to their wagons to eat. But he would still have enough time to dress and try to at least appear a little respectable in this elven travesty of a costume.

  Why did the elves wear these robes? What was wrong with leggings and a good vest, he asked himself as he dressed. Just as he had asked it a hundred times before. And why always white? Yes it was clean and looked neat. But what was wrong with some colour? Some Hanor blue like his armour? Of course he had no answer. Save of course the same one he had for why the priests were always around – to annoy him!

  A few moments later, after having carefully tucked Ry back into bed, Sam found himself with his next challenge of the day – attempting to get off the back of the wagon. It was a task more difficult than normal as he discovered anew just how high off the ground a wagon was, and how weak he was, and he nearly collapsed in a heap at its rear even before he made it to the wagon's edge. In his current condition he knew he couldn't jump down as he normally would. It would prove a little more exciting than he would want and he'd likely end up falling flat on his face. Instead he levered himself down by hanging on to the wagon's tray and avoided at least that embarrassment. Once down he headed on wobbly legs over to the elders. It was surprising just how weak he was, but he was determined not to show it. Ironically, if he had been wearing his armour as he'd wanted he would have done just that.

  Before he'd made it even halfway there however, he felt strong arms grabbing him around the waist as Pietrel helped him the rest of the way. In turn he watched Alendro scurrying for the wagon where Ry was sleeping. Apparently they'd held back while the Elder was there. Sam wondered briefly just how long they'd stayed away before that – not that they would have minded.

  Elves had many differences from humans, not least in the way they viewed such things. In Fair Fields had they been caught in such a position, he w
ould have been expected to later regale his friends with tales of his manliness, while Ryshal would have been publicly humiliated for some time to come. But in Shavarra such things were never discussed, neither by those caught nor by those who caught them. Instead they would all go about their business, and would quickly forget that anything had happened. Perhaps they had the right of it. What occurred between a husband and wife should stay between them.

  “Thank you.”

  Pietrel dropped him off on a seat that had obviously been put out just for him, then handed him a small cup of cooling herbal tea before making himself scarce as he headed for the wagon. Like most elves he didn't want to intrude on the elders unless specifically asked for.

  It was amazing just how respectful the elves were of their elders. They treated them almost as if they were kings likely to chop their heads off if they said the wrong thing, while often making small amusements about them behind their backs. Yet the elders themselves acted as anything but royalty and would have enjoyed the jests. They didn't rule by fear; in fact they barely ruled at all. And they didn't demand or even seem to want that respect. For them leadership was both a duty and a burden. They accepted it solemnly and with dignity, but never sought it out.

  Whether they were wizards, scholars, soldiers, artisans or even members of the Ruling Council itself, they behaved as if they were no different from any others. It was almost a mark of pride with them to be viewed as no different from anyone else, even if the rest of the people couldn't seem to accept it.

  For all that the various councils carried out most of the duties that a king or a lord might, and did it well if incredibly slowly. They spent most of their time settling disputes and hearing petitions. Decisions were made by consensus of the appropriate Council, usually after weeks or months of debate. Council hearings were all open to the public and all elves were free to speak.

  To make it even more complex the various councils all had complicated titles and even more complicated procedures. So the Ruling Council was actually the Coming Together of the People – or the Indowin nella mi Ellish. The Magic Council was Galana – or the Awakening. It was very confusing, especially when there were so many different councils.

  It was not a fast system of rule, nor always a particularly efficient one – especially when the priests were involved – but it was indisputably fair, and they carried it out with the highest standards of honour and care.

  Though he might never fully understand the elves' system of rule, it was something he found wondrous after having seen Heri in action. Heri sat on his throne like some overly pompous toad clad in excessive finery – though he wouldn't be doing that again any time soon Sam thought snidely. He made decisions on the spot and while he sometimes listened to advisers, he often ignored them. He also had a habit of throwing people into the dungeons for the most minor of offences. His brother had always seemed to embody the worst aspects of a ruler. And that had been when he was still only a king in waiting! He was probably worse now. By comparison it was unsurprising that the elves respected and even loved their elders. But a somewhat larger one that the elders didn't take advantage of their respect. It would have been only human. Though there of course was the difference.

  Today though it looked like he had half the Magic Council waiting for him. In fact one of them – Elder Bela so Ry kept reminding him – was also a member of the Ruling Council. These people were the key to his future among the elves, and it behoved him to remember that. So Sam sat quietly in the seat provided and nodded respectfully to the elders. It would be best he decided to let them start the conversation.

  “So, what did you think of our examination young Samual?”

  An elder he didn't know opened the discussion with probably the first thing Sam had wanted to ask about. How could all that he had been through have been some sort of test? Where had it been? How had he gotten there and back? And what had happened to the woman? The questions poured out of him in a tumble of words though he tried to remain respectful.

  The answer of course, was as nothing he would have guessed. According to the elves there had been no world, no enemies, no woman and no danger. Instead the examination as the elders called it, had happened entirely in his head.

  Actually it had happened in many people's heads. All the elders from all the schools of magic had been there to witness his battle; in fact it was only through them that the test arena had been made real to him. It was they who had decided which opponents he should face and when, and they against whom he'd wielded his magic. It was also they who had judged him.

  His strength and control had surprised them. In fact Sam thought it might have even worried some of them, though they would never say it. These weren't people who would admit a lot. Four true masters of fire and twenty adepts had held the arena against him, and still they had worried that he might break through; such was the amount of fire he could draw upon and use. But his knowledge was sadly lacking, and despite his youthful vigour the arena had held firm.

  As Elder Bela had said, his knowledge of the earth magics was much more impressive, and much more pleasing. He did not have the power as he did in fire, but he had the control and had learnt many of the forms, probably because he had studied the different types of magic for different reasons. In his thoughts fire was for fighting while earth was useful as a tool, though clearly they didn't agree. But the traps he had launched against the stone trolls were what had really impressed the elders. In using both the earth magic and the fire magic together in a single trap, he had shown a control the equal of any master, and they welcomed that.

  His knowledge of the living magic was woeful as he was informed, and had hardly even needed to be assessed. Still, he guessed he had surprised them that he could use it at all.

  Most mages would have some ability in at least one other field of magic as well as their main one, but three was unusual. And very few could consciously use those different magics together. He could use two, perhaps even three simultaneously. But then as he already knew, few could enchant either, and weaving different magics together as one was an essential skill for an enchanter.

  Overall he suspected that they were pleased with the results, and perhaps a little surprised. For his own part Sam was simply curious. Why had they tested him? There had been no need to as far as he could see. Or was it something to do with this Fire Angel that they kept referring to him as? He was beginning to think that he needed to learn more about that.

  Normally as he was told, such testing would only be done once a year for all the novitiates and apprentices as the elders gathered from far and wide in Shavara to conduct the examination. But occasionally, such as when they had discovered a new talent with the potential for mastery, and when all the elders happened to be together anyway, they could make an exception. When that same candidate had already saved many of them from a painful death at the hands of an army of steel rats, they didn't need much persuading. Though if the truth be told Sam thought, they might have done it out of curiosity even if the rest wasn't true. Staring at the sea of eyes staring back at him, he knew that curiosity was a powerful driver for these master spell casters.

  But was there something more than that? Looking around him at the thoughtful and worried faces, he suspected that there just might be. No doubt if there was they'd tell him in time. For the moment he simply had to accept their words and thank them for their time and effort. That provoked a response he hadn't expected.

  “Why so respectful Samual?” a woman asked. “You have not been so before. Polite yes, but never willing to actually do as we ask.”

  Sam didn't know her name, but he did recognise her slightly tongue in cheek accusation even though she didn't seem offended. He also understood that there was another more important question being asked of him. Could he be relied upon? Or was he just going to make trouble?

  “My apologies Elders. For the longest time I had troubles that overrode everything else in my life. I was angry and bitter, and a poor excuse for a man, e
ither elf or human. While I listened to all that was said, my wife's imprisonment came first. I could not have stayed away from her once I learned that I had the strength to rescue her. I hid that because I feared that if I told you, you might ask me to stay. I hid my name because of the assassins that plagued me and worried that they would have thickened like flies around a corpse had they suspected my whereabouts. Then when I was told that Ryshal had been murdered I was incapable of restraining my anger. Now I am freed of some of that burden at least.”

  “I have always tried to obey your people's laws, and I will listen to all you say and shall do my best to follow your instructions. But I am first, last and always, a husband. I cannot be anything else.” He said that because it was true and because they had the need to know. It would save on misunderstandings later.

  “We would never ask you to be. No more would we go against those same duties ourselves. We are all family minded, and we welcome that in you. But we do worry about the hurt and pain you have endured. There is still much anger in you child.”

  Her words spoke true. Ry's survival and improving health had released him from the worst of his anger, but he still had five years of loneliness and rage bottled up somewhere inside him together with the terrifying images of her shattered health when he had first rescued her. Those things would be with him for a long time to come.