Knight Of The Flame

by H John Spriggs

  "You're enjoying this," Caymus said, "aren't you?"

  Rill's grin broadened. He kneeled and began fishing for something in a small pail at his feet. "You know, between learning the various ways to light things on fire, fighting nearly indestructible monsters, and fixing a broken machine, I'll take the machine any day." He found whatever it was he was looking for and stood up again. "The rest of it, you can keep."

  "You mean it's less dangerous?" Caymus asked.

  "Ha!" Rill was keeping one side of the rope taught with one hand and holding one of the gears tight to it with the other. "You've got your hands on this platform. Does it feel safe to you?"

  Caymus shrugged. "Fair enough."

  "It is," Rill continued, now anchoring the gear into the wall by banging a couple of pegs into small holes, "a whole lot more interesting though. You should see the other gardens. They all use risers like this one." He indicated the mechanical contraption he was working on. "There are four gardens in all, and they all get water from the same source, and the machine slowly turns all day to make sure it gets distributed evenly." He looked down at Caymus, his eyes wide with a mixture of excitement and wonder. "They only have to wind the mechanism once a week to keep it running. Ventu built it, keeps the whole system running by himself!" He shook his head with wide-eyed wonder, then turned back to his work and started hammering again.

  Caymus was enjoying the look in his friend's eyes. Too often, during scores of lessons and practices, he'd known Rill to be so quiet and sullen, to be constantly trying to find something to occupy his mind that didn't concern the ways of the Conflagration, and generally getting in trouble for it. "Well," he shouted up, "you certainly seem to have a knack for it."

  Rill was fitting another gear in place. "Ventu told me that Kepren has a corps of engineers that travels with the army, keeping the catapults and such working. That's where he did his apprenticeship, where he learned to do this stuff." He looked down at Caymus again with a sly grin. "I was thinking I might ask him for a recommendation before we leave."

  Caymus wondered at the idea. He considered what he knew about his friend, about the way he fit in with organized groups, such as a circle of disciples. He had to admit, he was skeptical. "You think you'd be alright in the army?" he said.

  "Corps of Engineers!" Rill shouted back, with no small amount of triumph in his voice. He then got back to work, carefully aligning the various pieces in just the right way. Caymus didn't know much about such things, but the machinery looked as though it was more or less together at this point, and he wondered how much more there could be to do.

  As Caymus watched, he heard a slight fluttering sound behind him, felt a small presence. He turned to see Perra standing near the edge of the shelf. The area was ringed with large stones, about waist-high to Caymus, and she stood quietly at the apex of one of them. "Hello, Perra," he said, more to himself than anyone else.

  Merkan looked at him quizzically. "This animal is your friend?" he asked.

  Caymus laughed. "I suppose so," he said, "though Perra's more like a friend of a friend." He turned and looked over his shoulder at the path that led down to the entrance to Otvia. "Speaking of which, if she's around, he can't be far behind."

  As though summoned by his words, Milo came meandering around the corner, waving when he saw that Caymus had noticed him. He had something lifted up on his shoulder, and when he turned to navigate a curve in the path, Caymus could see that he and Gwenna were carrying the body of some animal, suspended by its feet from a large stick or branch, between them. It seemed that Gwenna's first outing as a hunter had been successful. Caymus enjoyed a feeling of satisfaction at the thought.

  A few steps behind them came a mitre Caymus hadn't met before. He was old, with weathered, wrinkled skin—the top of his head resembled a white walnut—and a slight hunch to his gait. Merkan had told him that Otvia's leadership consisted of a council of elders. Caymus wondered if this might be one of them.

  "Hello, Caymus," said Milo, when he got within a few paces of him. "Gu'ruk told us to bring the beast up this way," he indicated the old mitre that was following them, "but he didn't mention you were up here, too." The three of them stopped, looking up the length of the wobbly scaffolding, and at its lone occupant.

  "What's Rill doing?" said Gwenna, rather matter-of-factly.

  "He's fixing the water-raising machine," said Caymus, looking up too. "At least, he thinks he is."

  "Ha, ha," said Rill, testing the tension on the rope. "Let's see you do it." In response, Caymus gave the scaffolding a bit of a shake. "Hey!" yelled Rill, his eyes wide as he crouched down to keep his balance. When Caymus stopped, he looked over the side at him.

  "Not funny?" said Caymus.

  Rill made a show of putting on a big sigh, then stood up and got back to what he was doing. "Not so much," he said.

  They all grinned at each other. The old mitre that Milo had referred to as Gu'ruk tapped Milo on the shoulder. "Over here," he said. He motioned Milo and Gwenna over to the large hole in the rock wall next to Caymus's shoulder. His voice was gravelly, but it was deep, rich with a baritone sound that Caymus found he liked. "Just place the velox in there."

  Milo blinked at him. "What, just..." he nodded in the direction of the void in the wall, "just dump it in the hole?"

  Gu'ruk smiled. It was a warm smile that held no malice or mocking, and it made some of the creases in his face disappear. "Yes, my friend. Just dump it in the hole."

  Milo looked back at Gwenna, who shrugged, and the two of them moved forward to stand in front of the chute. They then put the animal—a velox, Gu'ruk had said—down and untied it from their improvised carrier. Upon closer inspection, Caymus could see that it wasn't one large stick, but rather a bundle of small sticks tied together, the same as those that constituted the bones of the scaffold he was holding steady for Rill. Once the velox was untied, they lifted it together and placed it, headfirst, in the hole.

  The interior wall of the chute was nearly as smooth as glass, and before any of them knew it, the beast was gone, sliding down to some chamber below where, presumably, it would be stored or prepared by someone waiting on that end.

  "That felt weird," said Milo, scrunching his face up and looking around at everyone.

  Caymus nodded. "It looked a bit weird," he said.

  "Good," said Milo, "not just me, then. I get worried when it's just me." He looked up at Rill, who was hammering away at something. "Does he know what he's doing?"

  "He seems to think so," Caymus said, following his glance. "I asked the same thing not five minutes ago, funny enough." He turned to Gwenna, who was picking up the sticks they had used to carry the velox. "It looks like you did well today," he said.

  Gwenna smiled and shook her head. "Milo got it," she said. "I took the first shot, but I didn't even come close." She glanced over at Milo, then back at Caymus. "I've got a lot of practicing to do."

  Milo put a hand on her shoulder. "Early days, yet," he said.

  Caymus was delighted that Gwenna was learning to shoot. It, of course, meant that she would be able to hunt with Milo for food for the group when necessary, or even protect herself at a distance, but, more than that, he liked the idea of her being able to take care of herself. He couldn't quite explain to himself why, but it made her more attractive to him, as though the mere act of learning the new skill had added something physically beautiful to her.

  As he stood there, considering Gwenna, he felt a large hand on his shoulder. He turned his head slightly to see the old mitre whom Milo had called Gu'ruk. "You are Caymus, yes? Be'Var's student?"

  Caymus frowned slightly, but nodded. "I am," he said. He inclined his head, "Gu'ruk, right?"

  Gu'ruk seemed pleased that Caymus knew his name. His face split into a satisfied grin. "Yes!" he proclaimed. "Yes I am."

  For a moment, the old mitre just stood there, smiling at Caymus, but looking him up and down, appraisingly. Caymus felt a little uncomfortable, feeling as though he were a horse bein
g considered for purchase. Eventually, though, Gu'ruk's face got a slightly pinched set to it, and he leaned in a little. "I do not suppose," he said, his voice lowered considerably, "that I could see that mark that is on your hand?"

  If Caymus had felt uncomfortable before, now he was becoming suspicious. This mitre, whom he didn't remember meeting before now, either wanted something from him or knew something that he hadn't shared yet. Still, he couldn't see any reason to actually distrust the old man, so, keeping one hand steady on the scaffold so as to prevent Rill's demise, he offered the other up to Gu'ruk.

  Gu'ruk leaned down and examined the mark of the flame and the sword, squinting his eyes and pursing his lips for several moments, after which he abruptly straightened, and gave a curt nod. "Thank you," was all he said before he turned around and walked back down the path to the main entrance.

  Caymus looked after Gu'ruk as he left, and when the hunched figure had turned a corner and vanished, he put his hand back on the scaffold and looked to the others, who seemed as confused by the encounter as he was. "What was that all about?" he said.

  Merkan smiled a broad smile. "Gu'ruk is our Relic Keeper," he said. "I saw that he was speaking with Be'Var earlier this day." He shrugged. "Be'Var must have told him about your mark."

  "Do you think he knows something about it?" said Caymus.

  Merkan shrugged. "I do not know." He looked to the point where the old mitre had disappeared. "Relic Keepers spend much time alone. They are solitary for most of their lives. They are hard to know."

  Caymus thought about the interaction. He wondered if he should have said something while Gu'ruk was inspecting the mark. Between this encounter and the one the previous day, when Rill had shown him the symbol on the door to the Ritual Room, he felt suddenly like there was an awful lot that people weren't telling him, and he was beginning to get a bit frustrated by it.

  "Is Rill nearly ready up there?" For a moment, Caymus didn't know where the voice had come from. It seemed faint, as though from a great distance. When it asked the question again, he realized it was coming from the holes in the ground. Caymus figured it was probably Ventu, the mitre engineer, checking on the progress of his new student, though he had to admit he didn't know the man's voice well enough to be sure.

  Rill shouted down. "Tell him I just need another minute!"

  Caymus relayed the message, though he felt a bit foolish yelling down a hole at someone he couldn't see. When he raised his eyes again, everyone was looking at him as though having the same thought. Their mitre companion didn't seem to think there was anything strange about it, but Gwenna was hiding a grin with her hand and he recognized Milo's face as the one he wore when he was trying very hard to keep from laughing.

  Rill was as good as his word. Within a few moments, he put his tools down. "Done!" he exclaimed, a look of immense satisfaction on his face. He turned down to look at the group below him, singling out Caymus. "Tell him to test it?" he asked.

  Caymus shouted the request down the hole. He wondered just how loud he had to yell to be heard at the bottom; he didn't even know how deep the hole went, which might have had something to do with why he felt silly doing it. "All right!" the voice replied. "Stand back!"

  With that, a slight clattering sound emanated up the hole and the rope began moving. Caymus watched as the bladders slowly rose up, were fed by gears and pulleys through a few twists and turns, and then descended again. The purpose of the twists and turns escaped him until about a minute later when bladders started emerging with actual water in them. When the full bladders went through the system, they were handled in such a way that they got upended, just before they reached the very top, into yet another hole that Caymus hadn't noticed before. This hole was only a few inches in diameter, and it was only the complicated way in which the rope moved the bladders that caused them to be completely emptied before they passed the opening. Then, his eye caught a slight shimmer by his feet, and he looked down to see that water was seeping out of the wall through well-hidden channels in the stone, then being carried along the ground in shallow grooves to be distributed among the plants.

  Caymus was surprised by the artfulness of it all. The machine that raised the water was rickety and clanky and anything but subtle, but the actual channels and grooves in the ground were so slight that he hadn't even noticed them until that moment. Still, they were so effective that not a single drop of liquid appeared to be wasted. As much as Caymus had always been impressed by what Be'Var and the other masters could do with flame, he was just as impressed by what the mitre could do with stone and earth.

  Caymus felt the scaffold shaking quite a bit and looked up to see Rill climbing down. When he was a few feet off the ground, he jumped the rest of the way and dusted off his hands. He wore a look of absolute triumph on his face. "Perfect!" he said, looking at both Caymus and Merkan. "Thanks for the help."

  They each let go of the scaffolding. "Any time, Rill," said Caymus, looking up at the still-churning contraption. "Glad it worked out in the end."

  Rill turned to address the assembled group. "That's all Ventu wanted me to do up here," he said. "Shall we head back down?"

  Caymus looked to Merkan. "Are we done?"

  Merkan nodded. "We are."

  "Great," said Milo. "I'm starving!" The air priest took off at a jog down the trail, leading the way, as usual.

  "He makes a good point," said Gwenna, who hooked her arm around Caymus's waist, and began pulling him down the path. Caymus was all-too-happy to follow along. Since the trail was only wide enough for two humans—or a single mitre—Rill, and then Merkan, followed behind them.

  "Hey, Caymus," Rill said, "did Be'Var ever find you today?"

  Caymus looked over his shoulder. "No, was he looking for me?"

  "Yeah," said Rill, "something about that sword and circle symbol on that door. He didn't say it was really important or anything, but he was wondering if I'd seen you."

  "Thanks. I'll keep an eye out for him." Caymus thought again about that symbol, and what it might mean. He'd never imagined he'd find any answers in Otvia, but if Be'Var had found something out, he wanted to know what it was. He frowned, wondering where, in the vast network of tunnels and caverns of Otvia, the master might be at that moment.

  As it turned out, Caymus didn't have to search. When they reached the encampment, they found Be'Var and Matron Y'selle both sitting on some broken masonry near the main entrance. Caymus was amazed at how much cleaner the place seemed, considering how badly destroyed it had been just a couple of days ago. Besides the bodies they had burned, most of the debris had now been cleaned away, too. There were no bloodstains on the ground, nor was there any other evidence that so many people had died here. No new buildings or tents had gone up yet, though. From what Caymus understood of conversations he'd overheard, the mitre of Otvia weren't planning on putting up any new structures unless people actually moved into the encampment and asked for them.

  As they approached the master and matron, Caymus noticed Y'selle was holding one of Be'Var's hands in hers, and that she appeared to be saying something to him. He'd seen the two of them sitting like this more than once over the last few days, and he'd even heard Be'Var refer to the matron as "'Sella" at one point. It was becoming apparent to him that the two of them had had some history with each other before her arrival at the Temple. He wondered how far back that history went, and how they'd first met.

  His ponderings were cut short, however, when Be'Var saw them coming. In a flash, he'd stood and was marching over to the approaching group. His expression displayed an unusual intensity. He wasn't angry—an angry Be'Var was a familiar sight, and it didn't look like this—but Caymus was beginning to wish the master had found him earlier in the day after all.

  "Boy!" he said when they were in earshot. "Where have you been all day?"

  Caymus removed his arm from Gwenna's shoulder to put his hands in front of him in a surrendering posture. "I was up at the first shelf, up there," he said, pointing behind
them. "I didn't know you were looking for me until a few minutes ago."

  Be'Var seemed about to say something, but before he could, Merkan stepped forward and gave him a small bow, his hand on his chest. "I am sorry, Master Be'Var," he said, "I asked Caymus to spar with me, that I might teach him Mael'vekian sword arts."

  Caymus detected a glare in his master's gaze at the mention of Mael'vek, but it only appeared for an instant. After that, Be'Var's eyes softened, and he rubbed his fingers on his chin and nodded. "Yes," he said. "I suppose that probably is a good use of his time." He put his hand to his chest and bowed back to the mitre. "Thank you, Merkan. You'll probably end up having saved his life on some future occasion."

  Merkan seemed pleased by this, but before he could say anything else, Be'Var strode up, grabbed Caymus by the elbow, and started hauling him toward the entrance to Otvia. "Come on," he said as he grabbed, "things to show and tell you, boy."

  Caymus looked back at Gwenna as he let himself be pulled away, an apologetic look in his eyes and a shrug on his shoulders. She smiled back at him and mouthed the words, "Good luck."

  "The mitre of Otvia," began Be'Var, letting go of Caymus's arm, but still leading him, "in addition to learning all kinds of skills from the world around them, also are collectors of information and artifacts. One of their number is always assigned to keep watch over these items. This mitre spends most of his time trying to understand them."

  "Gu'ruk," said Caymus. They were passing through the mountain entrance into Otvia now, "The Relic Keeper?"

  Be'Var turned to Caymus, surprised. "You know him?"

  Caymus nodded. "I met him less than an hour ago. He wanted to see the mark on my hand."

  Be'Var stopped abruptly, putting out an arm to stop Caymus also. He was wearing that intense look again. "And what did he say?"

  Caymus shook his head. "Nothing. He just thanked me and walked away."

  "Hmmm," said Be'Var, who began walking again. "I'm guessing he knows something very interesting indeed." He slapped Caymus on the shoulder. "Come on," he said, "let's go find Gu'ruk. This time of day, I expect he'll be near the Center, eating with everyone else."