Haunted Tree (The Magus Family Chronicles Book 1)

by Scott Robert Scheller

  Sean ran to meet them. Out of breath, his face flushed, he bowed his head toward Oren. “Mighty wizard. Marc. I have terrible news.”

  —Sense his thoughts,— Oren instructed.

  Marc probed his friend’s mind and quickly knew the terrible burden he carried. “The king has died.”

  Sean looked at him, startled. “Yes. Did someone else bring you the news?”

  “No. Only you.”

  “But I haven’t said anything.” Sean looked confused.

  —Very good. Now learn how he died.—

  Again, Marc let the emotions and thoughts radiating from Sean enter him while suppressing the embarrassment of invading another’s mind. “He died fighting his nephew.”

  Clearly unsettled, Sean took a step back. “How do you know that?”

  —Tell him,— Oren said.

  —I don’t know if I’m ready to. What will he think of me? I might lose him as a friend.—

  —If he truly is your friend, he will remain so.—

  “I’m a junior wizard, Sean. Master Oren has been teaching me magic.” Marc expected him to be shocked, but instead a broad grin spread across Sean’s face.

  “I knew it! I knew there was a reason you survived being in the Forbidden Vale. And the wolves! Only a wizard could have acted as you did.” Sean turned toward Oren. “You have chosen well in your apprentice, Great One. I know of no person better suited for that honor than Marc.”

  “I agree, but the magic chose him, not I. How is the village taking the news?”

  Sean’s smile vanished. “Not well. Everyone is worried, especially Garrett. He fears the factions that were once unified under the king will now fight for control of the throne.”

  Oren nodded. “That concerns me as well.” —Invite him to stay the night.—

  —I thought outsiders were not to be allowed past the greeting room?—

  —Sean is a trustworthy and honorable man. He has kept his pledge to not reveal your first encounter with the Great Tree.—

  Marc shook Sean’s hand and pulled him into a brief embrace. “Despite the reason for your visit, I’m glad to see you. The day grows late. There is no need for you to return home in the darkness. Please, stay the night as our guest.”

  Sean’s smile returned. “Only if you will do one thing.”

  “What?”

  “Tell me all about how you became a wizard.”

  Marc chuckled. “It’s going to be a long night, then.”

  Chapter 18

  Marc, Sean and Oren approached the gate. Putting his hands upon the bars, Sean studied them and the surrounding stonework.

  “I’ve been here before... when I was little.” His gaze traced the curve of the structure above him. “This arch seemed huge to me then. It still does.”

  Marc nodded in the direction of the house. “After you.”

  Sean tried to enter. “It’s holding fast. I see no way to open it.”

  “This gate is magical. Watch.” Marc swept his arm in an impressive gesture and commanded, “Aperīte!”

  Sean gasped, his eyes following the door as it swung along its arc. “Amazing! Such powerful magic.”

  “Come,” Oren said, walking past them. —Good use of show, Marc.—

  Marc fought off a smile as he ushered Sean in. “Actually, it’s simple magic. It’s the first spell I learned.”

  “Oh.” Sean eyed the gate a moment before asking, “What was the second?”

  Again Marc put on a show. “Claudite!”

  As the gate closed, Sean chuckled. “Of course.”

  “This way,” Marc said, following his master. After several steps, he felt an odd, prickly sensation on the side of his face and found Sean studying him. “What is it?”

  Sean dropped his gaze, embarrassed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to stare, but finding out my best friend’s a wizard is a bit of a shock. I wanted to see if there was any difference in how you looked.”

  “There isn’t. What has changed is I can listen to and speak with the magic.”

  Sean nodded, seemingly accepting Marc’s words, then looked around at the wizard’s land. “You have so much inside your walls, Great One. I especially like your many trees.”

  “Call me by my name,” Oren said.

  Sean shot Marc a questioning glance. “Uh, yes... Oren.”

  That surprised Marc as well. —Master?—

  —We can be less formal with him. He will be your faithful friend for the rest of his days.—

  Hearing that pleased him. —And I, his.—

  Oren veered off the path and into the trees. “I planted most of these myself, Sean.”

  As Oren talked with Sean about his orchard, Marc remained where he was and thought about what might happen now that the king had died. While he knew little of the power structure that once surrounded the king, he did know of one member of the inner circle who often expressed views opposite those of his monarch: Crowe. It was widely rumored he bragged he would be king one day. Maybe now he would seize his chance. That did not concern Marc much for he had no say about who would be the next king.

  What did concern him were men like Thaddeus—those who thirsted for wealth and power and would do anything to achieve it. Men who showed their enemies little or no mercy. A chill slid down Marc’s spine as he hoped Thaddeus would be too occupied with filling his pockets elsewhere to think about returning to Oak Creek to seek revenge upon him or Oren. Further worries fell away as a familiar sensation came from his right. He turned toward the house to see Valeria bounding toward him.

  “I thought I felt you,” she said as she neared..

  Her arms encircled him, her lips finding his. Warm and sweet, Marc enjoyed her kiss before remembering they had an audience. “Uh, I haven’t told—”

  “The Master?” She gave him a playful smile and tousled his hair. “I’m sure he already knows. He seems to know everything.”

  “No, not Oren.” Before he could explain, she looked past him and clapped with delight.

  “Sean!” Hurrying over to their friend, she gave him a heartfelt hug. “It’s so good to see you.”

  “You, too.” Sporting an amused expression, he looked from her to Marc and back again. “I see you and Marc finally realized how much you care for each other.”

  Marc studied the knowing smile on his friend’s face. “How could you tell?”

  Sean’s eyes rolled upward. “Please. It’s obvious. The way you’ve looked at each other for some time now. Even Don sees it, that’s why he’s so jealous.” His smile warmed. “I’m happy for both of you.”

  “Thanks.” Valeria gave him another quick hug and returned to Marc’s side.

  As Valeria’s arm slipped around his waist, he realized there was much more to his friend than he ever saw before. —Sean is wise, Master. He should become village leader after Garrett, not Donald.—

  —While he would indeed serve well as Garrett’s successor, that is not his destiny.—

  Interested that the master knew something of Sean’s future, he asked, eagerly, —What is it, then?—

  —Your will learn that later,— came Oren’s guarded reply.

  Feeling the shift in his master’s demeanor, Marc tried to read his emotions but got nothing. The wizard, as always, liked keeping his secrets.

  “Why have you traveled all the way here, Sean?” Valeria asked.

  Before Sean could answer, a rush of alarm spread out from her. Seeing her glow rise sharply, Marc did a quick probe of her mind and found she felt a great sense of dread towards their friend. It took but a moment to realize what that represented. Death.

  Noticing the subtle change in Valeria, Sean regarded her with concern. “You don’t look so good.”

  She flashed him an embarrassed smile. “I’m just excited to see you.”

  Their visitor’s manner became more somber. “I came bearing bad news. The king has died.”

  As Sean told her the rest of the story, Marc felt Valeria’s spirit quickly lighten. Somehow she m
ust have unknowingly sensed Sean’s emotions concerning the king’s death. This intrigued Marc, for only this day had he learned to perceive another’s thoughts, yet she did so without any training or knowledge of Linking.

  Oren extended his arm toward the door of their home. “Valeria, please show our guest the house. Do not go beyond the workshop.” After they were alone, Oren turned to him. “It appears your future wife’s talents are surfacing more each day.”

  Marc chuffed out a brief laugh. “Indeed.”

  “How well have you observed our other guest these past weeks?”

  The change in topic momentarily confused Marc. “Who, Gildas?”

  “Yes. Do you know how he speaks, what he says, how he moves? At times you will have to pose as someone other than yourself to go unrecognized among the people.”

  “Other than as a wizard.”

  His master smiled. “I am pleased you see yourself that way.”

  Marc thought about it a moment. “I could pretend to be a monk. When are we to do this?”

  “Soon.”

  “This is because of the king’s death, isn’t it?”

  Oren nodded. “His loss will result in a considerable shift in power. I fear whomever replaces him will be far less of a leader.”

  “You don’t know who it will be?”

  “No. Perhaps Valeria will see something. Her gift of vision is unusually strong.”

  Not to mention empathy, Marc thought. “What do you see coming?”

  Sadness emanated from his master. “Great violence. Death.”

  Marc shared Oren’s feelings. “It’s unfortunate we cannot use our magic to find the next king and put him in power. Maybe that would prevent any violence.”

  Oren watched him dispassionately for several breaths. “Do not underestimate your influence. Our abilities give us considerable power to affect the affairs of others if the need arises.” His master’s voice had a waver to it that concerned him. He again tried reading Oren’s emotions and face, but neither provided a clue. “I have seen... portions of your futures.”

  “Futures? More than one?”

  “Your life can take different directions depending upon your actions from this point forward. In one, you play a part in the struggle over who will be king.”

  Marc blinked in surprise, unsure how to take that. “I will, er, might?”

  The set of Oren’s eyes hardened, his gaze distant. “In another, you do not.”

  In a flash, Marc knew what that meant. “It’s the test I must face.” Although the words flowed smoothly from his lips, a stark hollowness opened up deep within him. “The king’s death might very well result in my own.”

  “That is not what I meant.”

  “But it could happen. His death is involved with my test.”

  His master sighed and raised a placating hand. “It is only the first step of that journey.”

  “And how soon will the journey end?”

  “I do not know the day.” Oren smiled slightly. “But by then you should have all the skills needed to face any test.”

  Knowing the future was partially in his own hands gave Marc some comfort. “Then teach me well, Master.”

  “I will teach as I always have. You must learn well.”

  Oren’s use of humor implied he was not unduly worried, which further lightened Marc’s spirits. “As I always have.”

  The sparkle returned to his master’s eyes. “Good. Remember, few men are a threat—”

  “—to a fully trained wizard. I’ll be ready.”

  — o O o —

  While Gildas prepared the evening meal, Sean and Valeria sat by the fireplace as Marc demonstrated some of the magic he had learned. Until now he kept his studies secret, worried what Sean and others might think. Seeing the delight in his friend’s eyes made Marc realize his concerns were for nothing. After making two pieces of firewood dance about then jump into the fire, Marc saw Gildas nod at Oren. Dinner was ready.

  Sean clapped and laughed. “Marvelous. What other wonders are there?”

  With a smile, Marc extended his right arm and said, “Convīvium profer!” One by one, he magically conveyed the food containers into the fire room and onto the table, each followed by Sean’s rapt gaze. Once finished, he bowed toward Sean. “Dinner is served.”

  Stepping up to the table, Sean inspected everything with amazement. “There’s so much. Breads, dried fruit, nuts and—” Bending, he sniffed at a large copper pot. “Venison stew?” His gaze met Marc’s. “Life as a wizard is indeed privileged.”

  “Not so,” Oren said, guiding their visitor toward a stool. “Our fare is usually quite simple. But today we have an honored guest, so a feast is in order.” Looking a little self conscious, Sean sat. Oren glanced at Gildas with a smile. “Brother.”

  Bidding them join hands, Gildas gave a longer than normal blessing, but Marc figured this special meal deserved an equally special benediction. Once over, they began to eat.

  “Tell me, Brother Gildas,” Sean asked, “how did you manage to survive the last few years? Did Oren warn your people as he did ours?”

  The monk’s countenance sagged and he shook his head. “I heard no warning. When the darkness first came upon us, I and my brethren were filled with fear, not knowing why the sun had left us as it did. People came to us for help, begging us to pray to God to end it. We were already trying that, but nothing changed. Some of the people abandoned the Almighty and reverted to the false gods of Rome’s past. Great piles of precious food were burned in unholy offerings to them.” As if to underscore his point, the monk lifted a piece of bread before him.

  “After that, things continued to worsen. While I did not witness it myself, I heard tales of human sacrifices and other such horrors. Some of my brethren also gave up their faith and fled. Those of us who remained managed to survive on roots we dug up. When the darkness began to leave us, I went in search of a village or town that might take pity on a humble monk. I came upon more than one settlement where no one remained. Whether they died, or moved elsewhere, I do not know. After walking for many days, I took sick. Soon, I could go no further and laid down expecting to die.” He looked toward Valeria, giving her a respectful nod. “I would have, too, if not for Valeria’s magic.”

  Cocking his head to the side, Sean looked at her in surprise. “You, too?”

  A flicker of a smile danced about the corners of her mouth. “Yes, I’m learning magic, but I’m not as advanced as Marc.” She briefly told of her visions and how she found Gildas.

  “Amazing. My two best friends, a wizard and a witch.” Dipping a crust of bread into his stew, Sean chewed it thoughtfully before asking, “Tell me, Oren, have many wizards lived in this house?”

  “Yes. Wizards were among the earliest Romans to come to this land. One of my kind first settled this property over four hundred years ago. Each wizard passes it down to his replacement. I will do the same to Marc and Valeria one day.”

  “Are many wizards Roman, then?”

  “Men and woman of magic come from every part of the world, including Rome and its territories. At one time, many Romans lived here, and a few of them served magic and the people around them. The Romans improved our lands. They built cities, roads.” Oren waved his hand in a slow arc around him. “They even built the wall around my home. Sadly, they left some time ago.”

  Gildas gave a snort of disgust. “Rome has long since cast us off, disregarded for more pressing concerns. They do not care Britannia is being overrun by the Saxon menace.” He looked down and shook his head. “Many among us have forgotten what it was like before the victory at Mount Badon—what has it been, now? Forty-two years? The invaders were soundly defeated, but since then the people have become complacent and lazy, leaving us ripe for conquest. Man’s evil has caused God to set his wrath against us.”

  Marc felt deep conflicts over mankind and magic war within Gildas. “Wrath?”

  Gildas’ eyes burned with the fire of righteousness. “The great darkn
ess we have just endured. Thanks be to God it has passed.” The monk reverently crossed himself.

  Oren let out a gentle sigh Marc knew well; his master often used it before correcting him on some error in judgment. “You believe the darkness was a punishment of some kind.”

  Gildas answered him with a curt nod. “Most surely. God snatched the sun from the world to show His anger with our sins.” He studied Oren for a moment. “You believe otherwise?”

  After stroking his beard a few times, the wizard shrugged. “I cannot say whether it was punishment or not, but I do know the sun never left us. Instead, a tremendous cloud of dust covered all the earth for that time.”

  “Dust?” Gildas said with a frown. “That is impossible.”

  “So you say, but our Creator’s world is capable of many wondrous and frightful things. Far to the east, deep into the southern part of the Orient, stood an island, a great volcano. For many years fires burned at its peak, the smoke of which could be seen from a great distance. Then the island rose up out of the sea with a great violence and burst open, casting itself upon the wind and was no more. For weeks a huge column of dust rose from its grave, fouling the air even this far away.”

  Again the monk studied Oren, but longer this time. “If this is true, how could you know this?”

  “I have... communicated with other wizards in far off lands.” Oren surreptitiously winked at Marc. “One of my kind who lived in the Orient told of hearing a tremendous sound in the distance, a roar like a thousand claps of thunder, only lasting much longer. Hours later, towering waves came out of the sea, flowing far inland and wreaking unbelievable destruction, killing many thousands. Then great quantities of yellow dust fell upon his land as the darkness descended.”

  While Gildas absorbed that information, Marc took advantage of the pause. —We can Link that far?—

  —At times, but only with those whose magic is about as strong as our own.—

  Marc liked the thought of Linking with someone so distant.

  Gildas shifted on his seat. “Pardon my skepticism, Oren, but are you telling me the truth?”