To Be Chosen (The Maestro Chronicles)

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To Be Chosen (The Maestro Chronicles) Page 4

by John Buttrick


  That was a revelation. It also explained why she had been staring at him at every opportunity since they met. She was seeing the glow Ruth had told him of. He made his decision. “I’m leaving at dawn. If either of you are set on coming get your horses and be ready.”

  Chapter Two: What Is This?

  Two days more and they would be at the outskirts of Ducanton and Daniel began to wonder if he made a mistake allowing the two Teki to accompany him. They sniped at each other incessantly. Silvia sat atop her mare, Whisper, whose thick coat was chestnut mixed with white. David rode on the other side of Daniel on a gray mare he named Twisted. The blue sky was partly cloudy and it looked to be a pleasant morning, if not for the bickering. Daniel had gotten used to being alone. He spoke very little, having learned that a comment from him only seemed to increase the flood of words coming from the other two and draw him into a conversation he truly wanted no part of. Other than that, they were not bad at enduring the hardships of camping in the wild, neither one having voiced a single complaint. Their sniping and complaining was about each other.

  The entire Teki troop had thrown him a party to celebrate the twentieth anniversary of his birth. They insisted on feasting in his honor and would not think about letting him leave without proper gifts. He was wearing them now, a full length coat the color of the sky that broadened out at the waist enough to allow him to run at full stride if necessary. The blue coincidently matched the color of his life force energy, although with Ruth and who knew how many other Seers in the Forager troop, it was possible the color was on purpose. The coat was of wool and well made, fitting him perfectly. After all, he was going to the royal palace to meet the Queen, it made him feel a little better wearing something fit for the court. Funny, his buckskins had always been good enough for him; it seems his stay in Aakadon where he was obliged to wear the white silks of a Talented had affected his sense of the appropriate. His shirt and pants were buckskins but the coat when closed hid everything down to his boots, which were new and shiny black like those David was wearing. The coat was open now and partly draped over Sprinter’s back, giving Daniel freedom of movement. The rawhide boots were in his saddlebags along with his straw hat, which was made of flat blond strands of grass weaved out to a broad rim. The black banded wide-brimmed one he had on now was dark brown with gold scrollwork around it. This hat was far dressier than any he had worn in the past, fit for any formal occasion. He would be wearing his old hat now if the Teki had not insisted he put on the new one. Laundering, was easy to cast and kept all of his clothes clean and in good repair so he wore the coat, hat, and boots into the woods where his other apparel would have been more suitable. He readjusted the quiver on his back and was grateful the young ones of the troop had gone out, retrieved, and cleaned all of his arrows.

  He had stayed away from the main road that followed the Hirus River into Ducanton, preferring to be to the north of it and avoid human contact, concerned that he would be recognized by any people he met along the way. Three days ago they passed where the city of Coldrone sat on the south side of the Mighty Hirus, which originated in northwestern Ducaun at the Taltin Sea. Since most of the traffic would be following the main road on that side of the river, he took pity on his companions, and made his way out of the deep woods to the road on the north bank. There was a time not long ago when he would have stuck to his word and stayed in the woods just as he described before starting out, now he was considering his companions’ needs and putting them above his natural inclination. It surprised him that he was coming to trust his escorts, since everyone born on the mountains can tell you, flatlanders cannot be trusted. His recent travels and experiences were opening his mind, causing him to question old notions about people, and who can and cannot be trusted.

  The roads this close to the capital were paved with a mixture of lime, clay, gravel, and water solidified to the point it was hard as stone. Daniel would not have known that except the substance had made him curious and the curiosity inspired him enough to compose the low level spell he titled; “What Is This?” to determine what the road was made of. All he had to do was summon the potential and touch the object in question, then the longer he concentrated the deeper the sensing went. He had gone so deep that he saw what looked to him like little worlds with moons spinning around them. Some of the worlds had only one moon and others had many. He could not go deeper, so he slowly pulled back on his perception and the worlds began to combine in such a way that his mind began to form pictures to interpret what he was seeing, that’s when he figured out what the hard flat surface was made of. He was so intrigued by the result of casting, What Is This? that he went around touching all kinds of objects and discovered that everything, including Sprinter, was made up of these little worlds, except in the stallion he saw little helix-shaped strands. Within the helix strands his mind inserted tiny three dimensional pictures of how the horse ought to look at this exact point in his life. He thought of them as a kind of recipe unique to Sprinter. Daniel tried this out on various plants and found they too had the strands, which led him to conclude that all living things had the recipe strands within them. It was an interesting discovery but he doubted anyone would believe him if he shared this knowledge. They would want to know how he knew and then, if no spell allowing such a deep sensing of an object existed in Aakadon, they would suspect he either learned it from Tarin Conn, or was capable of composing his own Melodious spells, both suspicions would be bad for him.

  So strange was his behavior, Silvia and David actually stopped their bickering and gesturing at each other long enough to ask if there was something wrong. After all, what they saw was the Chosen Vessel on his hands and knees, eyes closed, touching the road for half a mark, and then running around touching random objects in the same way. Daniel had not mentioned anything to them about his career as an Accomplished but his choice to travel the road brought them in contact with a goodly number of people who did, some of those reports were wildly exaggerated while others did not come close to describing the real events of his recent past. No small number of passersby had hand-sized portraits of him, some so accurate they could have only been created by an Accomplished, and others had artists’ fanciful depictions of him in battle against giant yetis, as if the real ones were not big enough, and his confrontation with Balen Tamm, whom they depicted as a hideously twisted fiend aiming a serpent-shaped baton at Daniel. His being Silenced was brought up as well, which was probably the only reason his fellow Ducaunan’s dared approach him. Even still, they spoke respectfully, did not come too close, and offered him condolences at his loss.

  The road was wide enough for eight wagons to ride side by side and not touch each other. People traveling east rode on the left side while folks riding to the west stayed to the right. Across the river people stopped and stared, some pointing and shouting his name as Daniel and his companions continued on. He waved to those who waved and was glad there was a broad swift river with all sorts of boats sailing on it between him and them. The people only wanted to greet him, so he tried to be polite, but if he stopped to speak with everyone who came along, the Queen would be dead ten years before he reached Ducanton. It was fortunate the encounters on the north side of the river were far and few between.

  “It seems you have overcome the Silencing,” Silvia stated while eyeing an ox drawn wagon heading east. The farmer had a load of corn in the back and seemed to pay little attention to the travelers about to pass him by.

  “Are you speaking as a Seer?” Daniel replied.

  David chuckled. “Even I have grown to suspect you have overcome the Silencing.”

  Silvia glanced past Daniel to the Teki riding on his other side. “I’m surprised you noticed.” She told him and then said, “I speak from observation, not from Sight. It rained on us two days ago and your clothes dried immediately afterward while ours took marks to dry out. Even now, ours are wrinkled and stained while yours are perfectly clean and wrinkle free. We have been attacked by almost every kind of bug
native to Ducaun yet none has bothered you or even Sprinter, who, I should add, was not even wet after that rain. The return of your abilities may even explain why you were taking time to stop and study the concrete road.”

  So that is what the rock hard substance is called, Daniel was glad to know. He stayed quiet for a few moments while trying to decide how much to say in response. He waited for the farmer to pass by and then reached out, touched the floral-patterned green coat, cast Laundering, and moments later her garments were unstained and wrinkle free.

  David’s smiled vanished while his eyes widened. “But everyone believes you are impotent, completely unable to summon potential, why are you keeping this a secret?”

  “I would very much appreciate it if neither of you speaks of this to anyone. If you truly want to help the Chosen Vessel, keep this information between us. I want everyone to believe I cannot summon potential,” Daniel replied.

  “No one will learn this from me,” Silvia replied. “I cannot speak for the Gerabolli traveling with us.”

  David’s eyebrows drew downward and he peered past Daniel to the young Seer. “The Gerabolli tribe keeps their word, unlike some members of the Reshashinni,” he told her and then said, “I will keep your secret, Chosen Vessel.”

  “Call me, Daniel,” he replied.

  “Are you implying the Reshashinni do not keep their word?” Silvia said with a dangerous look in her eye.

  “At the last Great Carnival, we met and liked each other, our parents made arrangements, and my father paid Lobenian gold to seal the deal,” David stated, shedding some light on the real reason for all their bickering. He adjusted his red coat, which contained only he knew how many throwing blades.

  “We were twelve, David; Twelve. I guess I was supposed to be honored that your father coughed up a gold coin as bride price for a Cresh, a mere cadet branch of the Reshashinni. I’m supposed to be thrilled that a full blooded Gerabolli noticed me,” Silvia answered back and there was anger in her words and hurt.

  David snapped his mouth shut before uttering whatever he was about to say. He eyed some people on the other side of the river who were waving and shouting greetings, and then replied, “We liked each other, got along well, I thought, and our parents approved. Does my physical appearance repulse you?”

  “No, you’re presentable enough, have a few rough edges, but I wouldn’t call you repulsive. The problem is, No One Asked Me!” Silvia replied, having started off in a soft voice and then emphasized each word of the last sentence in a volume so loud it caused several birds to take flight from the nearest tree.

  It somehow never occurred to the would-be husband to ask if she wanted to be with him, even Daniel knew that was a bad move. Considering his own failures in courting matters, he decided not to comment. The day was drawing to a close and a clearing was coming up about ninety strides ahead on the right. “I think we should stop for the night,” he told them as the silence grew between the two. “That looks like a good spot,” he added while pointing his finger.

  Both of his companions looked in the direction he indicated and nodded their approval. In a short time, saddles were removed, horses were rubbed down, and they had a decent fire going. Silvia lit the fire using flint to spark the flame, although she kept looking at Daniel as if hoping he would offer to light it the other way. His secret would not last long if he took up wielding potential so casually. She did not question him about it and actually seemed more interested in David, who had grown quiet.

  “I’m hungry. Give me half a mark and I’ll catch us some dinner,” Silvia announced while springing to her feet. She ran north into the woods without waiting for a reply.

  Daniel had been about to make the same suggestion, except with him being the one to go fetch the food. They had plenty of bread and beef jerky, more than enough to feed ten people for the duration of the journey to Ducanton. She either wanted fresh meat or to be elsewhere for awhile. Daniel knew he would have gone for the last reason. He sat down, crossing his legs, leaned against his saddle, and then grabbed his guitarn and began playing, Riding The Wind, one of his favorite melodies, even though it summoned no potential. The horses were eating the grass over to his right and David was squatting near the fire, staring in the direction the Teki woman had gone, and probably trying to decide whether or not to follow her. If so, he decided otherwise because he remained in that position.

  A quarter of a mark later Daniel noticed two men, unshaven, on foot, coming from the east. Their clothes were stained, torn, and ragged, as if they had been on the road for a long time. The one on the right, limping along, was a tall man, taller than Daniel, and broad in the shoulders. His uniform looked familiar. The patches of rank had been torn off. His coat and trousers were lime green, and his boots scuffed. His dark hair and eyes matched Daniel’s own, but the man had a wide beak of a nose. His hat was straw and looked to be poorly made. A knife sheathed in his sword belt seemed to be the only protection because the sword was missing and his companion was unarmed.

  The other man, shambling along beside him, was a hand shorter, lean, and had thick dark hair on the sides and back of his head and was bald on top. His scalp was red from the sun and was peeling along with the skin of his nose. His coat and trousers were brown wool and seemed to be tailor-made but were every bit as ragged as that of his friend. His shirt was white silk with a touch of lace at the cuffs. The heel of his left shoe was flapping with every step he took. It was clear he and his friend were in a bad way.

  Daniel knew he had seen at least one of these men before but could not immediately place him, a consequence of no longer having total recall. David noticed them and stood up. The two men shambled and limped to the spot in the road closest to the camp and came to a stop.

  “May we share the fire?” the bald man inquired in a dignified voice.

  David looked to Daniel, who nodded his approval, and set the guitarn aside. These men clearly needed rest and Daniel knew he had plenty of water and more than enough food to spare.

  “Come join us,” the Teki called to them.

  The men came forward. The shambling one came smiling with eyes wide, clearly pleased by the response. The limping one came with one hand on the hilt of his knife, neither smiling nor frowning, and a no nonsense expression that showed him to be a cautious man.

  Daniel placed a low level shield on David who glanced at him wide-eyed at suddenly noticing the temperature difference. The outside elements no longer affected him. He nodded his head, removed his hand from the inside of his coat where it had likely been resting on the hilt of a throwing blade, and then turned back to the approaching men with a broad false smile only a Teki performer could pull off convincingly.

  “Gentlemen, come sit by our fire. We have bread and water to spare and might even have some fresh meat in about a quarter of a mark,” David invited in a powerful voice, one that would carry into the forest and be heard by Silvia if she was not too far away.

  “We thank you for the generosity. I am Jared Benfyllon, former account keeper to Lord Payden Sharmine of Keffer Greens. And my friend here is Marcus Bower, former chief of the Men-at-arms of the Keffer Greens estate,” the bald man made the introductions, and then sat down.

  Marcus winced as he lowered himself to the ground. “My thanks as well,” he said while Daniel handed him a canteen. The man took a drink and closed his eyes, clearly enjoying the liquid coolness running down his throat.

  Daniel focused on Jared, who was drinking from a cup given to him by David. The memory came back. The man in green was with the arrogant lord who had been denied entrance into Aakadon. Daniel remembered seeing twenty men-at-arms with the lord but had not noticed the man in brown. There had been many people gathered at the gate and Daniel had been rather busy at the moment and exhausted after defeating Balen Tamm, smashing the headquarters of the Serpent Guild, and capturing Serin Gell.

  “You seem to have fallen on hard times,” Daniel said while leaning forward.

  Marcus did not spea
k, being involved with chewing on the bread David gave to him. Jared stopped chewing, swallowed, and looked Daniel in the eye. “Oh, you have no idea. Lord Sharmine dismissed us and we were left to fend for ourselves. No horses, no food, no water, and no coins. We just kept going west and here we are. Thieves attacked us but Marcus drove them off. A Condemned jumped us two nights ago, Marcus killed it, and that is when his leg was injured. Tell me, do you know if the scratch of a Condemned can cause a healthy person to be Condemned as well?”

  David looked to Daniel as if to say, “This is your area of expertise,” which it was in a sense.

  “Who might you be?” Marcus inquired after swallowing his bread and washing it down with a swig from the canteen. “A Teki and a mountaineer in a fine coat is a rare combination of traveling companions.”

  “I am David Gerabolli, juggler for the Forager Troop of the Reshashinni Teki and you are in the presence of Daniel Benhannon, Chosen Vessel of the Creator. Know that it is by his sufferance that you sit with us,” the Teki proclaimed.

  Daniel wished the Teki as a people were not so fond of making proclamations and David in particular. It made the situation awkward. Both of the travelers were now staring at him, but they did not seem surprised. The pictures; these men had to have seen them and heard all of the tales. It was likely Jared’s earlier wide-eyed expression came because he recognized who he was about to share a fire with. Marcus was the type to be cautious no matter whom he approached on the open road.

  “We recognized you from the start,” Marcus admitted. “Not as the Chosen Vessel, although I’m not surprised to hear that label tacked onto your name as well. I know you are the hero of the Battle of Bashierwood, conqueror of Balen Tamm, and a powerful Accomplished.”

 

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