by Janice Ayre
Chapter Seventeen
The Ruby
As the travellers set off on the next leg of their trip, Brock was uneasy. He kept looking around expecting to see something unpleasant.
"Something bothering you?" asked Zebulon.
"No, nothing."
"Come now young lad, I thought we agreed there would not be any secrets?"
"There aren’t any. And anyway," Brock continued defensively, "You didn't admit to using magic to bring the horses back!"
"Why should I tell you what you already knew? And it was of no business to anyone else."
"Well it's nothing. Just thinking something silly."
Zebulon gave him a searching look. "You think you recognised two of the young villains? You are anxious now that Orville maybe somewhere around?"
Brock nodded.
"You are right," continued Zebulon. Two of them were with Orville when you were captured. But I don't think you have to worry about Orville being anywhere near here. He uses villains for hire but he doesn't continue to associate with them. I don't like him, but he is far too intelligent to befriend ones such as that lot, or to be involved in stealing horses or anything else like that. He is finding his way back to Mustafa, I should think. You are wise though, to always be aware of who is around you."
The day grew hot but they pressed on with only short rest so they could make up for lost time. They had gone off their course to come into Carsdale. Zebulon was growing impatient to obtain the ruby and to commence the homeward journey.
They travelled for days on deserted tracks and finally began climbing more mountains. It was a slow tiring journey. Many times they needed to dismount and lead the horses. They passed through more tiny villages where people turned to stare before continuing with their chores. Women in rough plain clothes, dug vegetable patches or chopped huge logs of wood. The menfolk loaded wagons with a pungent substance to trundle off into the fields to fertilise the crops.
Once the villages were left behind the track became steeper, almost disappearing in some places. On the lower slopes the hillsides were green but above them trees began to crowd them out and the landscape became more rugged. The horses were reluctant to continue.
They found a small cave in the rocks, overlooking a stream, and rested there.
"Is that the Ruby River?" Brock asked hopefully.
The wizard gave a deep chuckle. "That would be most convenient."
Days turned into weeks and Brock lost track of time. His hands were blistered and covered in small cuts from climbing the steep tracks. Each night he had lain down with aching muscles and extra bruises and injuries. But he had become very fit and muscular so that his shirt could scarcely stretch over his broadening shoulders. He took a secret delight in his changing body, a thing not unnoticed by Zebulon who was amused at his young apprentice's vanity.
No matter how much they had worked to reach their camp for the night, Zebulon would always see that Brock spend time studying magic. Though his skill in that area was increasing, Brock wished he could make the same degree of advancement he was able to make with his physical capabilities. Always Zebulon would encourage him to be patient.
One morning they had set out early but were hampered by a fog which became thicker and thicker making progress slow and dangerous. They had only travelled a few hours when it was decided it be advisable to set up camp. Finally when the fog had cleared they travelled only a short distance before discovering they could look down on the Ruby River. It was like a blue ribbon winding through the hills. It was a beautiful sight.
Leaving the horses to graze on what little grass they could find, they abseiled from a small cliff, going down in well practised short leaps, before continuing to the edge of the river via a rough track. The water looked inviting and Brock needed no further encouragement to proceed to the next task. Zebulon instructed him in detail about what he was to do before casting a spell which would enable Brock to breathe underwater. Each one downed the potion which would help them to communicate so that Zebulon could guide Brock to where the ruby lay.
So eager was Brock that he felt Zebulon was trying to hold him back with all the extra instructions.
"It's good to be eager young lad, but the water is deep and we want to be sure you understand what is expected of you." Brock heard Zebulon's words in his mind and he responded with his own mind.
As he dived into the water he felt the cool gather around him. It was exhilarating. Zebulon's voice could be heard in his mind: "Concentrate!" Brock looked up to where the wizard stood on the bank, gave a smile and wave before disappearing beneath the water.
He still expected to have to come up for air but he went further down with no problem. He really was breathing under water. Zebulon guided him where he should go, through words but also through images. The water flowed around him as he moved easily through it. It seemed as though he was part of the river. Some small fish swam nearby and treated him as one of the river creatures.
When Brock could clearly see the image of the ruby he was sure he must be close. He felt his pulse quicken with the expectancy of holding the precious gem in his hand. He could see it now in greater clarity. It was truly a majestic stone. Zebulon's words affirmed his nearness. As the image of the stone became more intense it began to change shape into the appearance of perfectly formed red lips.
Brock ceased his forward movement and became entranced. A face, a breathtakingly beautiful face, formed around the lips. Blue eyes, as blue as the river looked at him wistfully. The lips parted, and though he heard no voice he was sure she was imploring him to follow her. As the image disappeared into the ripple of the water, Brock cried desperately for her to wait. He was not sure if he had said it with his voice or his mind, but it mattered little because he felt he was communicating with her through his mind.
The beautiful creature reappeared and this time she extended her hand. Brock reached out for it but found it just out of his reach. Swimming towards her, all other thoughts were forgotten and he was ready to follow where she led. He heard a murmuring voice in his mind, beckoning him and he was ready to submit. But as soon as he reached this state he began to feel uneasy.
Suddenly Brock felt panic rising within him. He realised that he could no longer hear Zebulon's words or see any of the images the wizard had been projecting to him. Where had Zebulon gone? Was something wrong with him? Brock couldn't breathe: The spell was broken. The image of the woman vanished. If he could reach the top before his breath ran out he might be safe but he didn't know which way was up, which way was down. He was completely lost. He felt his lungs burning and ready to burst. Everything went black and he was sure he was drowning. Cold fear stole into his heart. He was sure now that the alluring creature was some evil being there to lure him into his grave.
The woman reappeared, but Brock was past caring about her, he only wanted to live. In those agonising moments a thought came to him. He had practised the protection spell many times, maybe that would help him now. But he could not remember the words. He remembered some of Zebulon's instruction: Be calm, concentrate. He found he was still able to breathe underwater. Once he stilled the turmoil in his brain, the words of the spell came to him and he recited them over and over. The woman's image became one of rage and her form became ugly.
Zebulon's voice, strong and reassuring came into Brock's mind. Once more the image of the ruby appeared and he could see where he was to go. The lady of the water had vanished and he felt she would not return. He swam easily to where the gem lay.
Brock surfaced in the water and as Zebulon pulled him from the river he fixed him with an intense gaze. Brock, pleased to be have accomplished his mission quickly opened his hand to reveal the ruby but Zebulon took no notice of it.
"What happened to you down there?" he demanded.
"What do you mean? You stopped communicating with me. I thought someone had killed you or something," said Brock in an injured voice.
"No something happened to you, and you broke connection with me.
I felt intense fear and I was getting ready to blast you out of the water, but then I felt your spell and knew you were safe."
"You could tell I used the protection spell? It really does work!"
"Now tell me what happened."
Brock reluctantly related the story to Zebulon. Now on dry ground he felt embarrassed and stupid.
"Was she dangerous?" he asked when he had finished.
"She is a water sprite. They are very dangerous to men for they use their thoughts and desire against them."
"Why didn't you warn me?"
"I thought you would be safe...but obviously you are not an innocent child anymore."
"What do you mean?" As the answer to his own question came to him, Brock's face reddened right up to the roots of his spiky hair.
The tension both had felt was broken. Zebulon's lips curled in amusement. "Show me the prize."
He took the gem from Brock's outstretched hand and examined it with deep satisfaction. "Well done. Thank you."
Brock's complexion had returned to normal but his eyes shone with pleasure at Zebulon's praise.
For a long while they both gazed on the stone, marvelling at its deep intense colour. In its centre was a slight tinge of blue which added to its magnificence.
"A stone of love and passion," commented Zebulon in a reflective tone.
The day was coming to a close. Both travellers had no energy to make the steep climb back up the mountain so it was decided to camp by the river for the night. The horses would be safe for the night under Zebulon's spell. With what was left of the fading light, Zebulon worked to fit the ruby into its rightful place in the pendant while Brock prepared a welcome meal.
They journeyed back to Benjamin's village. They had stopped to see Morcion but were informed by some of the young villagers working in his garden that he had left several days ago to visit his brother.
Brock was disappointed. "Maybe we will overtake him on the way," he said hopefully.
The night was spent at the village, and both were made welcome with friendship. They were still puzzling as to why the robbers had brought the horses back but did not suspect Zebulon had achieved that.
After leaving the village they headed for Kotonia. Brock was looking forward to seeing their friends again. To his surprise, as they passed through the village, no one seemed to remember them.
"It's not that long ago, how come no one recognises us?"
"It is the spell I placed before we left to protect them if Mustafa should come calling. I left some false trails for him also, so that he would not easily follow us. We need to be more vigilant now that we are back here."
"Will Uri, Elvira and Minerva remember us?"
"Yes, Uri and his family knew how to be quiet if Mustafa came."
The little family was delighted to see their friends again. Elvira fussed over them and cooked delicious meals for them. They stayed to rest for a number of days, and to visit with their friends. Brock and Minerva fell into easy companionship and joined the other young villagers in the going entertainment of dance and games. Zebulon relaxed also in the company of his good friends although he still had time for silent reflection, a space in his own mind where no one was admitted.
Brock observed a pain which Zebulon kept to himself and despite the wizards own reminders to Brock about not keeping secrets, the elf knew better than to push these boundaries.
They discovered that Mustafa had come to the village with Orville in search of Zebulon but no one was able to give him any information. He questioned Uri but the wise elf knew how to handle himself with Mustafa. He kept his wife and daughter hidden for the time the unwelcome guest remained. He was unable to tell which way they had headed. Zebulon's main concern had been that Mustafa was not close enough to have felt him make use of magic.
As they continued on their journey, Zebulon instructed Brock with even more urgency for him to improve his magic skills.
"Shall we visit Brookfield farm?" asked Brock hopefully.
"It is too far out of our way, besides we may not be so welcome there because of our hurried unannounced departure." He smiled at Brock. "I'm sorry, you wanted to see a certain young lady?'
"She was a good friend. Yes, I would have liked to see her again," Brock replied soberly.
That time seemed another world away to Brock and so did his home. He wondered what it would be like to be back there again. He began to recognise some familiar country as they came nearer to home. A sadness came over him. Although he had left reluctantly and he was happy to see family and friends again, he knew that the experiences he’d had and the friendship he now had with Zebulon were treasures he would not forget. He did not feel quite ready to give up this part of his life.
"Are you sure you don't need me to collect the last stone?" he asked hopefully.
"No, I will go to Kareem's alone. He has the stone, and I won't have to fight him for it."
"It will be strange to be home again. It will seem so quiet and dull."
"You will miss this life?"
"Yes."
"Good, because you are not going home yet."
"I'm not?" Where will I be going? "
Zebulon smiled. "You don't think your apprenticeship is over yet do you?"
Brock’s heart lifted in hope. He had a powerful desire to continue this journey.
