She summoned potential, was enveloped in a hazel glow, and the third degree burns vanished, and then cast another spell, causing the second degree burns to vanish. “That’s better. We damaged the walls, killed a good many guardsmen, and all was going well until Tatum and Carlson died while raining fire balls upon the commoners from above. Brais cast, Sonic Boom, at the walls, making himself a target, balls of flaming pitch struck his shield, bounced off and landed near your tunnel entrance. Meanwhile, royal bowmen crawled out into the grass and positioned themselves all around us, although none of us realized this at the time. When Brais cast his spell, they let loose their arrows and the fool died with one in his throat. Burton, Bursell, and Grendor killed the assassins in the grass but then died when a rain of arrows came from the bowmen on walls. I decided to stop fighting and wait for you, otherwise there would be no one left to report.”
Serena closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and wanted to scream, except the action would make her look childish in front of what was left of her team. This was a disaster. She hugged the casket to her breast, realized not all was lost, and drew encouragement from what success she did attain; the trumpet was in her grasp. “What about the horses?”
“Burton and Bursell’s mounts were taken by the commoners, all the rest are dead. I didn’t see what happened to yours,” Tigress replied.
Ferret came up and joined the conversation. “I found what remains of a horse, chunks of it anyway, ten strides to the north.”
“What do you mean; chunks of it?” Duggan asked.
“It was chewed up, eaten, probably by sasquatches. I’ve seen them feed and what is in those bushes looks to have been gnawed on by a bunch of the hairy beasts,” Ferret replied while looking Serena in the eyes.
“You ordered them to protect the hunting ground, kill and eat anything that tries to flee. The scorching of the area where we left our horses indicates balls of pitch landed near them, startled, they fled, or so it seems to me,” SuTamkin shared his unasked for opinion.
Serena wanted to slap the illegitimate son-of-a-dog. She suspected he was correct but that did not change how she felt. “Gurrumble!” she shouted.
The huge male was probably nearby even though he had been ordered to return to the assembly point. Thinking about it more, Serena remembered her specific order was to return when Gerroor does. If the alpha male was dead, then Gurrumble would stay in the area indefinitely. She closed her eyes, ignoring the accusing stares her team members were leveling at her.
Some tupelos parted and out stepped Gurrumble. In his right hand was a horse’s thigh, mostly gnawed to the bone, evidence of what happened to the team’s equine transportation. “Summon your pack,” Serena commanded after letting a sigh escape, this was her fault.
The huge male let out a roar and after a quarter of a mark, one hundred and forty-three sasquatches arrived, some few of which were clutching meat in their paws. One was holding a half eaten human leg, that part worked out according to her plan, and she still had a respectable number of the beasts at her command.
“There are not enough of us to safely summon the potential for teleportation, how are we going to get out of this swamp?” Taltin asked, and there was no trace of flattery in his tone, a first for him.
Serena patted the casket. In her possession was a type two, level four, crescendo with six bolts of amplification, giving her command of seven bolts of potential, which was more than enough to complete the spell safely. It would leave her dehydrated but not terribly so and less so if she performed the Melody in concert with the remaining Talenteds. All she had to do was open the casket.
She placed the container on the ground without bothering to respond to the questioned posed to her or the other comments that had been made, she would deal with those in due time, especially those that sounded less than respectful. Summoning the life force energy for, Freeze, she focused on the latch. Two bolts of potential lanced from her baton and into the amulet. Frost formed in the air around the casket but the shield held. “Everyone, summon the potential for, Freeze. I am conducting,” she commanded.
All of the Talenteds suddenly glowed with potential and focused the energy at her. She combined the multi-colored beams and aimed them at the latch. More frost formed but the shield held. She ceased the potential. After cursing Della Lain, the swamp, Brais, and the world in general, she answered Taltin’s question. “We walk.”
Chapter Eight: Simon and the Forester
Simon Trenca sat on the bow of the, Otter, a riverboat with two masts and four huge white sails. The hood of his black silk cloak had blown back and the wind was playing havoc with his sandy locks, but he did not mind, just kept brushing them out of his eyes. Twenty shirtless oarsmen sat idle at their stations. Normally they would be rowing against the current of the Gosian River, but the passengers of this boat were not typical and very much in a hurry. Members of the Eagle Guild dominated in number, forty in all, but members of the Stone Guild were a close second with thirty-five. The reason the rowers had nothing to do was the four members of the Zephyr Guild, whose wind spells filled the sails and sped the vessel up river against the current. Their destination was the former headquarters of the Serpent Guild, within Mount Gosian, which was currently being explored by over a thousand members of the Eagle Guild, and hundreds more of the Stone Guild.
Simon watched the bow slicing through the water and smiled. This was one of his dreams, to be out, away from Aakadon, doing things that mattered, and this mission fulfilled that desire. Only two members of the Willow Guild were on the boat, him and his mentor, Barnabas Galloway. He hardly believed it when the Senior Forester chose him. The Demfilian born, Three-bolt Accomplished, recently celebrated the two hundred-nineteenth anniversary of his birth, and was one of the most respected members of the guild. He was stocky, clean-shaven with short white hair, and pale blue eyes. The old man did not look a day over sixty.
“What are you thinking, Sprout?” the Senior Forester inquired while seated on a cushion beside him.
“I was wondering why you chose to mentor me. Hundreds of newly graduated Accomplisheds affiliate with the Willow Guild each year, why me?” Simon replied.
“What causes a plant to grow?” Barnabas asked in return, as he often did, it was his instructional style.
“Sunlight, nutrients in the soil, and water, although some plants like the Strap-leaved air plant collect water in cups formed by the leaves and draw nutrients from the water rather than soil,” Simon answered immediately.
“That is one of the reasons I chose you,” the Forester replied as if his response fully explained his reasoning.
“Anyone could have told you that,” Simon did not see the point.
Barnabas negated the notion with a wave of his right hand. “Ninety-nine percent of the graduates would have recited a list of Melodies that would cause various plants to grow. They do not look beyond the surface, not fully realizing that most of those spells are only speeding up the very process you just described. I picked you because you look deeper into matters and have a drive to make a difference in this world. Most of your peers are looking to advance their careers, you, I believe, have an actual passion to explore and learn the why and how of things.”
Simon could not deny that assessment of him, but his passion to explore and learn the why and how of things was not limited to matters pertaining to the Willow Guild. “I am honored that you chose me,” he said and received a single nod of acknowledgement.
“When the boat docks at the birth place of the Gosian, we will only be half way to our destination,” Barnabas told him as if the information was new. The Willow Guild had the most accurate three dimensional maps of any of the seven guilds of Aakadon, having cataloged every plant and tree on the continent, and even on the western island kingdom of Serinia.
Simon nodded his head affirmatively, having all of the maps committed to memory. He knew exactly where Dowman’s End was. “Do you have a theory as to why the Ecoppian blight is expanding?”
The Senior Forester stared at him for such a long time that Simon wondered if the man heard him, even though he had spoken clearly and distinctly. “I do, and what I am about to disclose to you must not be repeated. The information has been restricted since the days of Grand Maestro Benjamin Pincer; he was Grand Maestro before Trevor Keen. I was in my early twenties when the restriction was made and few people under two hundred years of age even know what I am about to reveal. Since you are a part of this mission I believe you should be fully informed.”
Simon was getting excited; uncovering secrets was another one of his passions. “I will keep whatever you choose to say between us,” he assured him.
Barnabas smiled at the eagerness he must have seen in his Sprout’s eyes, but he spoke in hushed tones so his voice would not carry. “Tarin Conn, before he became known as the Dark Maestro, was a distinguished member of the Willow Guild. He composed ten of our High Power Melodies, and was highly favored by Della Lain. He also composed spells for the Sun, Stone, and Eagle Guilds, and is an Aakasear, not an Aakacarn.”
This truly was a revelation and Simon did not know what to make of it. Clearly an Aakasear, Melody Creator, was one who could compose spells. It stood to reason the spells used by the Aakacarns, Melody Wielders, good and bad, had to have been composed by someone and there was much speculation among the Talenteds about the origins, but all the Instructors would say was, “The information is restricted to the Maestros,” and that would be the end of the conversation. Any further questions on the topic would result in a lesson on humility.
He had thought Tarin Conn was always evil, born bad to the bone, and all of the history he had been taught encouraged that belief. “How?”
“I don’t know how an Aakasear composes Melodies, what turned him against Aakadon, or why he became so unruly, perhaps those few born with that ability also have a streak of independence in them. We in Aakadon teach conformity, particularly when it comes to spell casting. Aakasears would naturally be the opposite; chafing against the restrictions on modifications, playing with the notes, breaking the rules that keep us Aakacarns safe, but do not apply to them, otherwise how could they create something new? I don’t know much more on the subject because only the Maestros and a few select scholars have access to the information,”
“Interesting as this is, what does it have to do with your theory on the Ecoppian blight?” Simon wanted to know.
“Patience Sprout, I’m getting to it,” Barnabas replied with a fatherly smile. He shifted his position on the cushion and continued. “Tarin Conn is an expert on vegetation, light, minerals, and has an in-depth knowledge of the entire ecological system.”
“You mean; how everything is interdependent upon another. Plants need nutrients, sunlight, and water, but there is more to it. Plants need insects to pollinate, the wind to carry their seeds, and decomposition of other plants and animals, or their fecal matter, to enrich the soil. There are creatures that feed on the plants and insects, which in turn have predators that feed on them, right on up the food chain. Even the composition of dirt and rock have their place in the system,” Simon told him to show he grasped the over all concept, if only the surface. His research went deeper into the how and why than just learning what Melodies caused a certain type of plant to grow and the use of seedlings in spell casting.
“Yes. And your ability to recognize the larger scope of the world is another reason I chose you. Many Accomplisheds study only in their area of expertise but the truly great ones go beyond to see the ecological balance in the world. Tarin Conn, terrible as he has become, is just such an Accomplished. I believe he has composed a spell or layers of spells that sustain his body, much the way a plant does. Think of the mountain as a giant plant drawing sunlight to oxygenate his blood the way plants take in light and the breath of people and animals to make the air we breathe. He draws moisture from the sky and nutrients from the soil, which takes those things away from the ecosystem surrounding Mount Kelgotha, turning the land around it into a desert. As the surrounding vegetation dies and the nutrients drain from the soil, his spell or spells expand farther and farther,” the Senior Forester explained.
The theory was solid and explained how the Dark Maestro survived without eating, drinking, or breathing. “No wonder the twenty basic spells of the Willow Guild are no longer enough. Bella Sander needs us to cast stronger, guild specific, spells just to grow food,” Simon realized.
“Precisely, you have deduced the problem. Bella can grow the plants but the blight is withering them before they can bear fruit,” Barnabas said and stood up to stretch his legs.
Simon joined his mentor in a stroll around the boat. What the Senior Forester suggested had disturbing implications. “If your theory is correct, all we will be doing by using more powerful Melodies is feed Tarin Conn, making him stronger.”
Barnabas nodded his head affirmatively. “I submitted my theory to Maestro Svennar and he agrees with me. And before you ask, we are on our way to Dowman’s End because Maestro Talmon Reese requested the assistance of the Willow Guild in the matter. Sometime in the near future there will be a meeting of the Maestros and the theory will be put to them and they will decide how to proceed. Until then, we get the opportunity to help Accomplished Sander maintain his post.”
Simon felt up to the task. He was about to comment when several Accomplisheds of the Eagle Guild raced by him on their way to join a large huddle of affiliates.
“I wonder what has them stirred up,” Barnabas mussed out loud.
Simon focused on Harold Streamer, a yellow-haired Three-bolt Accomplished, who was the flock leader, and watched his lips move. “Someone has escaped the custody of the Eagle Guild, right from the cell,” he began to translate the senior Aakacarn’s words to his mentor. Goosebumps crawled up his arms when he realized who had escaped. He swallowed hard and turned to the Forester. “Serin Gell is free. A team of Accomplisheds appeared and teleported him away. Half of them were killed, but the rest of the Serpent Guild members succeeded in their mission. Three affiliates of the Eagle Guild died.”
“Serin Gell and his team could be anywhere in the world,” Barnabas commented while shaking his head. “Just because the Serpent Guild suffered a mighty blow from the challenge at Mount Gosian and has gone into hiding, does not mean they are no longer a threat. To think, Aakadon is open and naked to attack. We never considered the possibility.”
“The whole city was still celebrating the victory when we left,” Simon remarked, remembering Talenteds and Accomplisheds throwing parties. What had happened to Daniel had dampened his desire to join the festivities. It was the Ducaunan who had captured the renegade Accomplished and the thought gave Simon pause.
“Yes, and rightly so, but that does not excuse laxness on the part of the Eagle Guild. I would not bring that up to those we share the boat with, they already know and reminding them now would be churlish,” Barnabas told him, as if Simon did not know any better.
He cared less about the feelings of the Accomplisheds on the riverboat than what could happen to anyone Serin Gell might choose to take vengeance on. It had been announced the day before Simon and his mentor started their journey that Daniel had been made a Royal Knight of the Realm of Ducaun, was in Ducanton, and awarded an estate. Simon was not worried so much about his friend, but about those who had been closest to him. The Aakacarns had a chance of surviving Serin Gell’s vengeance, should it be visited upon them, but the commoners associated with the former mountaineer were another matter entirely.
“Sprout, you look as if the weight of the world has descended upon your shoulders. The Eagle Guild has the resources to hunt down the escapee. I have no doubt every member of that noble guild, all over the world, is being notified of the situation, and we have our own assignment. The responsibility to recapture Serin Gell will not fall to you,” the Senior Forester assured him.
“I’m sure they can do the job eventually,” Simon replied. “Tim Dukane, a mountaineer from Tannakonna, told
me about the contest at Mount Gosian. He was there and so were Miriam and Ronn Benhannon.”
Barnabas gestured to the left and they resumed their stroll. “I have heard of the commoner’s contribution in the events at Mount Gosian. I am not familiar with the other two people you have named but assume they are related to Accomplished Benhannon.”
That was how many of the residents of Aakadon referred to Daniel, even after he had been Silenced, it was their way of honoring his accomplishments. “They are his parents,” Simon informed the Senior Forester, and then paused thinking about the deaths of his own mother and father in Battencay. He was three when they died. “I’m afraid Serin Gell will go after them and Tim.”
Barnabas nodded his head. “A real possibility, I’ll not tell you otherwise, but our duty takes us to Dowman’s End,” he reminded, as if it was necessary.
Simon knew his duty yet also knew his concern for Daniel’s friend and relatives would gnaw at him. He was a Sprout, a new affiliate of the Willow Guild, and would not be allowed to go his own way until his mentor named him, Sapling. “Yes, I know, but that does not stop me from being concerned.”
“No, I expect it does not, just do not lose sight of the current mission,” Barnabas replied.
The matter was settled as far as the Senior Forester was concerned and Simon assured the Accomplished he would not be distracted from the task at hand. He watched as the affiliates of the Eagle Guild broke off into individual conversations, but did not bother to read their lips, he knew enough. The mid-day meal was soon to be served, although he had lost his appetite. He sat staring at the east bank, watching a lizard swallow a bug; they were on the branch of a White Ash extending a small part of the way out over the river.
Two days passed and they were approaching the town of Bolton situated on the east side of the Gosian. Simon was in his favorite spot near the bow and could hear his mentor approach from behind.
To Be Chosen (The Maestro Chronicles) Page 14
