by Philip Blood
Mara shook her head, “No, I think you two will do for the moment, this is something different than our normal training.”
The two boys looked at each other and shrugged. It was to be a far more interesting day than either boy anticipated.
Gandarel looked around for his familiar guards, but they were not evident.
Mara caught his look and explained, “I have them enjoying a rest and a drink; I explained that your lesson would go on for some time under my direct care.”
"Is Yearl around?" Aerin asked of Mara, in the time he had known the Willowman he had never learned how to keep track of the mysterious man, yet Mara seemed to always know when he was near.
"No, we are on our own today, I think you two should be sufficient protection," she said with a sly smile.
Both boys felt a swell of pride, and unconsciously began to scan the surrounding crowd and street for dangers. Mara noted their concentration and smiled inwardly.
Aerin spotted a group of younger children, perhaps six to eight years old. They were playing a game in the side streets. When he saw them Mara stopped and watched as well. Gandarel looked impatient, but Mara shushed him and watched with Aerin.
To begin the game one child would spin around with his eyes closed until he suddenly stopped. Whoever he was pointing at was deemed the Screamer. He would fall to the ground and scream while the others went and hid. After a short time he would get up and give one last loud yell, and then come hunting for the other children. The Screamer then searched, and the first two he found he had to chase and touch. The first one he touched had to freeze in place. When he touched the second child he would scream and both frozen players would now join him in the hunt. The three of them would now search out the remaining children. When any one of the three Screamers discovered one of the hidden players they immediately screamed until the other two Screamers ran over. Then they would circle the captured player while holding hands and chanting a children's rhyme. If at any time during the rhyme another child revealed himself and ran between two screamers, forcing them to break their circle, the captured child was freed. The Screamers had to run back to the 'fortress', the place where the first screamer had started, before being able to return to start the search. If the captured child was not freed, he became one of the Screamers. The game went on until everyone was caught.
"Ring around the one that's found," three children chanted while they circled around the captured one within.
"Hold him still to break his will," they cried out, raising their hands and stopping.
"He is deceived and now believes," they chanted as they brought their clasped hands down to touch the victim.
"And now he's one of us!” the new Screamer gave a loud scream, and the four of them went hunting the other players.
"It's just a kids game called ‘Break the Circle’, come on, let's go," Gandarel stated, taking hold of Aerin's arm.
Mara held her cane up, blocking Gandarel's path. "You don't know this game, Aerin?"
"No, I never played it as a child."
Gandarel spoke with sarcasm. "Where have you been, locked in some trunk? Oh, that's right, your dad kept you locked in books."
Aerin punched him. "Oh, and you know so much, locked up with all your teachers on how to dress."
Mara rapped Aerin lightly across the shins. "Enough of that, now can either of you tell me what that was all about?"
"The game?" Gandarel asked.
"Yes, the child's game," she answered.
"It's about finding hidden kids and capturing them, what's there to know?"
Mara fixed him with a stern look. "What's there to know? A lot more than is in that big empty space you call your brain. Many things have roots in history, even children's games."
"And I suppose this one has some great significance?" Gandarel noted.
"What if I told you it was a clue to the Wraiths and how they are created?" Mara suddenly asked.
That caught even Gandarel's attention. Everyone had heard of the fell Wraiths of the Last War. Mara had taught them a little about Wraiths in the past.
"What do you remember from my lessons about Wraiths?” she asked, leaning on her cane and watching her two students.
"They are evil beings ruled by hate, it is the foremost emotion of their life. They collect it and use it as power," Aerin recited.
Mara nodded. "Good, and what else, Gandarel?"
"They can freeze a man with a scream of hate."
"Yes... now, knowing that, look at this children's game, what do you see?"
Aerin thought about it for a moment, remembering. "The Screamer, the one who is 'it'. Is he supposed to be a Wraith?"
Mara nodded. "And he has the power to freeze someone with a touch, though, in truth, that isn't necessary, but what else do you see?"
Gandarel didn't want to be outdone by his friend. "They can make new ones by surrounding a player with three of them."
"Exactly, it takes three Wraiths to turn a human into one of their kind. That person must have a great hate in his heart, but that isn't hard to find. Once turned, they are lost to hate forever. Remember this children's game and what it teaches, it and many other things around you, that you take for granted, are clues to the knowledge you need. Knowledge is power. But come, this is not our lesson for today, just a side note for you think on later."
They traveled through the city until they reached an area not familiar to either boy; there was a small open market and some shops along both sides of the street, with hanging signs that depicted the wares and services they offered.
Aerin noticed the road sign mounted on the corner building telling them they were at the crossing of Sekel and Netter Streets. Aerin recognized where they were headed, and for the first time put the name 'Netter Street' together with sayings that Lor used... something about the crazies on Netter Street.
As before, Aerin saw men in various states of poverty along the side of the thin street. Some wore rags for clothing and held out broken pottery to passing citizens, begging while others crouched near the ground holding their knees and rocking. One man even stood ranting on about the coming of flies to eat the world.
"What is wrong with these men?" Gandarel asked.
Mara spoke in a sad voice, "They have either been abandoned by the world or have abandoned it themselves. When someone is labeled ‘daft’ or ‘touched by the Dreadmaster’, people bring them to Netter Street, rather than deal with their sickness. There is a block of abandoned old buildings here where they sleep at night, and charities bring food each day from many of the surrounding churches. You'll notice we aren't far from the main theological section of the city."
Gandarel was troubled, as Warlord he was supposed to take care of the people under his charge, but these poor men seemed to be near death in many cases. "Can nothing else be done for them?"
Mara looked at him with sympathy. "In some cases more could be done, but there are many different cases here. Some even want to live this way. Others, well there are things in this world that affect us, things beyond an individual’s control, forces that are not easily surmountable. There are powers that have belief behind them, and trust me, belief is a power to be reckoned with."
Aerin watched the man who ranted about flies for a moment. "Is that why you brought us here today, to teach us about the powers of belief?"
Mara smiled at him, he was such an intelligent boy, his mind always working. "No, Aerin, though I will give you a small example, now that you have brought it up. Do you believe in Tzera, God of smoke?”
Aerin considered for a moment. “No, smoke is just what comes off of something that is burning; it is silly to think a god would spend their energy on such a simple thing.”
Mara smiled, “Yet they have hundreds of parishioners who worship this deity every day. Do you believe yourself that much smarter than all of those people?”
Now a frown crept onto the boy’s face, “No, well I don’t suppose so.”
Gandarel stepped into th
e fray. “It’s peer pressure; they believe it because the people around them do.”
Mara nodded. “You are indeed correct, but that power is even stronger than you think. The power of people believing in something adds together to become stronger than most individual minds. The greater the number of people who believe and accept it in their heart as true, the more powerful that belief becomes.”
Both boys were surprised at what she had said, and then Gandarel looked up slyly. “Aren’t you preaching your own beliefs to us right now?”
Mara laughed a truly heartfelt laugh and then after a moment replied, “Indeed, young man, I am imparting a belief upon you now, and by saying it is true and by believing it, I give it power. Should ten people stand and tell you the same thing and believe it, you would indeed feel the pressure to believe it yourself. Should a thousand… well, even you might believe in what I say then. But remember this; my message is to beware the power of belief by common faith. Just because others believe doesn't make it true.
"Instead, I counsel you to test what you are told, and even what you see over and over, accept only what you prove. Apply this to what I tell you, as well as anyone else. Live life on your own terms, do good for the world because it is right that you be treated as you treat others. After all, if there turns out to be a higher being, by definition of an all-powerful wise god, they could not treat you in such a childish manner as to punish you for doing well by your fellow man.
"However, I did not bring you here today to sway you to believe something I believe, I brought you here to observe and learn on your own. The lesson of the day is what you see first is not always what is true. Learn by observing, keep a clear and unprejudiced mind, and question everything until you reveal the real answer."
Gandarel rolled his eyes when he understood it was going to be one of THOSE lessons, the kind that took weeks to see the answer. "Oh, that's much simpler, sure I get it."
Mara smiled at the sarcastic boy. "Believe it or not, it is simpler than understanding the forces that drive our world, which is what you thought we were here to learn about. But forget that for the moment, it's time for an example."
She moved up the street further until she came to a man who crouched in the dust of the street. His hands were placed between his legs, with the palms down on the ground before him, much like a dog sitting on its hind legs. His mouth was open and his tongue was out and panting slightly. He only wore caked mud. His black beard and hair were dirty and matted. His age was indeterminate beneath the filth, though Gandarel didn’t think him very old.
Aerin recognized him instantly as the man Mara had come to see at least twice before, though he did not mention what he knew.
"What do you see here?" Mara asked the boys.
"I see a man who thinks he's an animal," Gandarel answered promptly.
Mara nodded. "Not a bad assessment, but not entirely accurate either." She crouched down to the man's level and spoke quietly. "Good day, Ricard, how are you doing today?"
There was no response, but then the man let out a low wine from his closed mouth.
Mara spoke quietly to the boys. "Don't smile at him, he doesn't like that." She reached into the sack she carried and drew out a wrapped package, which she then held out toward Gandarel.
"Crouch down before him, look him directly in the eyes and place this before him," she instructed.
Gandarel shook his head, "I don't want to get that close; he looks dangerous."
Mara frowned at Gandarel, "This is not a time to argue," she turned to the other boy, "Aerin, can you do it for me?"
Aerin nodded and crouched down before the man. He kept his eyes locked on the dark brown orbs of the strange man as he placed the package on the ground.
The man's hand darted out and grabbed Aerin’s wrist in a firm grasp.
Mara spoke quickly, "Relax, Aerin, it’s all right."
The man leaned his head down and sniffed Aerin's hand for a moment, and then he shifted his grip and clasped Aerin's hand in a swordsman’s handshake while looking the young boy in the eye. A moment later he released his grip and dropped back to all fours. He began to sniff at the food package.
Mara guided the boys away from the man.
At the end of the block, Gandarel stopped and demanded an answer.
"Ok, I admit it, I don't understand what that proved," he said with crossed arms, looking quite belligerent.
Mara raised her eyebrows at him. "Who said it proved anything?"
"What was I supposed to learn from that? You said something about what I saw not being true."
Mara smiled. "All right, what did you see?"
"I saw a crazy man, who thinks he's a dog, take some food," Gandarel exclaimed.
Mara looked at Aerin. "Is that what you saw?"
Aerin considered her question for a moment before answering, "At first... yes, but there was something in his eyes, honor, integrity, I don't know, I got the feeling he was not crazy."
"Sheesh," Gandarel interjected.
Mara sent him a quieting frown, and then continued talking to Aerin, "And what did you observe from his grabbing your hand? Think about it and remember everything."
"He was strong," Aerin began, thinking back to the feel of the hand on his wrist, "and the hands were rough, with calluses."
"Of course, his hands were rough, he walks like a dog!" Gandarel burst out.
"No, it wasn't that, the calluses were very defined, almost ridges in his hand," Aerin remembered, feeling at his left palm with the fingers of his right hand.
There was a large commotion from the nearby main thoroughfare; people were gathering and pointing up the street.
Gandarel was glad to have a diversion; this stuff about the crazy guy was starting to bore him. He interrupted Aerin, "Hey, let's see what's going on!" Without waiting for a reply, he ran to the edge of the gathering crowd and started jockeying for a position where he could see what was happening to cause such a stir.
Aerin looked at Mara with narrowed eyes. "You didn't just bring us out here to feed that man and see that he isn't really crazy, did you?"
His teacher smiled. "What you see is not always the whole truth. What did you make of those calluses, Aerin?"
He looked back at his own palm and saw the calluses he had developed from all their weapons practice.
"He's a swordsman," he suddenly knew, seeing the matching patterns in his palm.
"Indeed, but that is enough for now, Aerin. Here comes Gandarel."
The young heir to the Seat of Stone arrived back at their side, panting from his run.
"Togroths!” he gasped.
Mara rapped him on the shin lightly with her cane, "This is not how I've taught you, Gandarel, report in a controlled manner."
Gandarel took a moment to regain his breath and gather his thoughts, and then he tried again: "A Togroth army has been spotted. It is headed toward Strakhelm. They must have overrun the border guards, and killed them before they could light the old warning fires."
Mara nodded curtly, a calculating look in her steel eyes. "And what should you be doing?"
Gandarel thought for a moment and then replied, "The council will be looking for me; they'll need me as a symbol to unite the militia."
"So..." Mara prompted.
"I must return to my guards immediately, and head for the Seat."
"But how are you going to get to the Villa and from there to the Seat? The streets will be rampant with worried people, and if someone spots you there might be trouble due to panic."
"But, how else can I get back?" Gandarel questioned.
Mara looked up, "Is there not a faster route by which you boys often travel?"
Gandarel nodded, "The High Road, but..."
"Do not worry about me, young Warlord. Your people need you, so you must get back to the Seat. I will make my way to the Villa and inform your guards that you went to the Seat without them. Aerin, make sure Gandarel gets to his destination, and then return by the High Road to the Villa
. Don't dally anywhere," she cautioned with a stern glance.
"I won't, Mara."
Mara nodded, and again addressed Gandarel, "Now, when you meet with your advisors make sure you suggest that the city be sealed and that no one goes in or out. No attacks, no sorties, no meetings with the enemy leaders, no parlays of any sort. Buckle the city down for a siege and tell your advisors to wait it out."
"Shouldn't we fight?" Gandarel asked in frustration.
"No, that would only get people killed. I know what I'm talking about here, so trust me. Last, but not least, once you have convinced the council to wait out the siege, you MUST come to me... understand?"
Gandarel looked puzzled, "Not really, no."
Mara sighed, "Just remember to come, and don't let anyone stop you. This is the most important thing I have ever asked you to do, Gandarel."
"All right, I'll come as soon as I can, I promise," he agreed.
Mara looked in his eyes for a moment and then nodded, "Good, alright boys, get moving, and you watch out for your friend, Aerin."
Aerin nodded, and the two boys dashed to the side of a building and swarmed up the drainpipes toward the high roofs. Mara made her way into the swiftly gathering crowds of people in the streets, using her voice or cane where appropriate.
Aerin left Gandarel at the gate into the Seat of Stone, the guards were obviously relieved to see him, and quickly shut the massive gates once he was within. Aerin had to fight his way through crowds of people milling around the outside of the Seat until he could reach an alley and ascend back to the rooftops.
When Aerin arrived in the practice yard he was surprised. It looked to him as if his friends were packing to leave.
He saw Katek loading boxes of supplies into Mara's wagon and went over to speak with his new friend. "What's going on, Katek?"
"We're packing to leave."
"That's obvious, the question is, why?"
Katek shrugged, "Mara said pack; I'm packing."
"But doesn't it seem odd that we would be leaving, when the city is being sealed up and an approaching army is about to lay siege? They are going to need all the fighters they can find!"
"If you are puzzled, why don't you ask Mara?"
