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'I hear words of praise, my friend,' I said. 'But I sense you don't really believe them.'
'Oh, I do,' Gamelan said. 'If you hear otherwise, you are mistaken.'
I remained silent.
Finally, he sighed. 'Very well. I'll admit that in weak moments -especially since I lost my powers - I I hate Janos Greycloak for his gift. But, it is only envy. When I was young, and denied the life I was born to, and the woman I loved, I traded ambition for the contentment I would never have. I was determined to be the greatest Evocator in Orissa.' hate Janos Greycloak for his gift. But, it is only envy. When I was young, and denied the life I was born to, and the woman I loved, I traded ambition for the contentment I would never have. I was determined to be the greatest Evocator in Orissa.'
'And this you became,' I said.
'Yes,' he said. 'Except for Greycloak. But the distance between his achievement and mine is as vast as the watery wilderness we find ourselves in. I am a mewling babe compared to Janos.'
'Come, now,' I said. 'All know the extent of your powers. Without you, we never would have defeated the Archons.'
'Even if that were true,' he said, 'it would be no comfort. You see, before Greycloak we practised magic as it had been done since the first spell was cast in the days when even fire was new. Successful spells were memorized and pa.s.sed on to acolytes. When writing was learned, we put them in books, such as the one you have before you. Not once did anyone ask why why a thing worked. We believed the results were the doings of the G.o.ds in the spirit world, and that was answer enough. a thing worked. We believed the results were the doings of the G.o.ds in the spirit world, and that was answer enough.
'Knowledge can never grow in a field absent of questions. I know that now. But I did not know it before. All that could be accomplished in those times were better twists on an old trick. Or, refinement of a trick. Power was limited to native-born ability. Which I had in plenty-more so than my fellows, at least.'
'But what of the wizards of Irayas? I asked. 'The magic of the Far Kingdoms, as all know, is much greater than ours. They progressed mightily-without Janos Greycloak's laws.'
Gamelan snorted. 'That's only because they found old scrolls and books from the Ancients. The things they have accomplished do not come from wisdom, but tricks lost to us over the ages.'
'I don't call changing common metal to gold a trick,' I said. 'They can do that in the Far Kingdoms.'
The wizard tugged hard at his beard. 'According to Greycloak - or at least the musings your brother returned with - it's no less a trick than conjuring up that ribbon which at the moment is giving you so much difficulty. If you know the law for how one is accomplished, you can do the other with equal ease. Janos claimed there is a single natural natural force - and not G.o.ds - that controls magic, and indeed, all else in our everyday world ... heat from a fire, the flow of water, the stuff that makes up gold - particles, he called it - is the same as conjuring a wart off a nose, or commanding the rain to fall or cease.' force - and not G.o.ds - that controls magic, and indeed, all else in our everyday world ... heat from a fire, the flow of water, the stuff that makes up gold - particles, he called it - is the same as conjuring a wart off a nose, or commanding the rain to fall or cease.'
'I don't understand,' I said.'
'But you will,' Gamelan answered. 'The more I teach you, the more apparent it will become.'
'Then, why are you envious?' I asked. 'Seems to me that what you're saying is Greycloak freed everyone from rote, and much greater things can be done - things even he he never dreamed of - with that freedom.' never dreamed of - with that freedom.'
'Quite true,' Gamelan said. 'But consider this. Consider a young wizard who in the rebellious years of his youth glimpsed for a moment what Greycloak saw clear. But, then he thought he was fool for even thinking that. How could he know more than his teachers, his masters, or the ancient Evocators who had pa.s.sed down their wisdom?'
'Are you saying that you could have unravelled the same mysteries as Greycloak?' I asked.
'No. Even I am not that conceited. A genius like Janos comes only once in many lifetimes, if at all. But, still, it haunts me that such could be so.'
'Other discoveries await,' I said. 'Even Greycloak's most enthusiastic admirers say what he found is only a beginning.'
'Yes,' Gamelan said. 'Which just makes me more envious. All the discoveries that follow will be made by young men and women who will not be burdened by a lifetime of wrong thinking. I'm too old, Rali. And, now I'm blind as well. What's worse, to an ancient like myself, is that when Janos made the gift - no matter how involuntarily - he took away my G.o.ds. For that is at the heart of his teachings. The G.o.ds - if even they exist - are bound by the same laws as the most common beggar at the door of the meanest tavern-keeper in the land.'
Shocked, I said: 'What do you mean if the G.o.ds exist? Do you doubt it?'
The wizard shrugged. 'They have appeared too many times in our history to actually doubt them,' he said. 'And not just to fools and liars, but men and women whose word cannot be doubted. However, if what Janos Greycloak suspected is true, they aren't G.o.ds, at least not in the sense we understand - which implies reverence, and worship.'
I looked wildly about for a place to hide when the lightning bolt struck - a bit like you are at this moment, Scribe. But none fell. I calmed myself.
'If they aren't G.o.ds,' I said, 'then what, in whoever's name I ought to evoke just now, is our purpose? Whose will, whose plan, are we following?'
And the wizard answered: 'According to Greycloak, there is no purpose. Our will is our own. And there is no plan, save what we make for our own lives.'
'But what of good and evil?' I sputtered.
'No difference,' Gamelan said.
'Then what's the use? Why not just give up?'
'Do you want to?' Gamelan asked. 'Greycloak believed it doesn't matter one way or the other.'
But it mattered to my Guardswomen, I thought. It mattered even to the slippery Cholla Yi and his crew of pirates. Most importantly, it mattered to me.
I shook my head. Then, remembering he couldn't see, I said, quite loud, 'No. And be d.a.m.ned to Janos Greycloak.'
Gamelan laughed, harshly. 'He very well might be ... if he's wrong.'
He lifted up his stick and rapped the deck. 'Now, back to work. And put your mind mind to it, woman. If you were as lazy in your sword practice as you are with simple ribbon pulling, your head would have been hoisted on a pike long ago!' to it, woman. If you were as lazy in your sword practice as you are with simple ribbon pulling, your head would have been hoisted on a pike long ago!'
Several weeks pa.s.sed before we were ready. Even then, both of us would have preferred more time; but the mood in the fleet remained so draped in miasma that any spark we might light would be smothered if we waited much longer. Gamelan had me practise casting the bones each morning. I'd describe their pattern and he would tell me if they boded good or ill. Mainly, they seemed to fall in a shape that Gamelan said predicted neither, but urged us to wait instead. I found the whole bone-casting thing vaguely humiliating.
'It's all very well for you,' I told Gamelan. 'You're an Evocator. You even look look like an Evocator. Dignified, grey-bearded, the very image of stern wisdom. No one would dare think you were silly, dropping a bunch of smelly old bones on the deck, then kneeling over the filthy things, staring, and mumbling and twisting your beard. But I look like - well, like an Evocator. Dignified, grey-bearded, the very image of stern wisdom. No one would dare think you were silly, dropping a bunch of smelly old bones on the deck, then kneeling over the filthy things, staring, and mumbling and twisting your beard. But I look like - well, me me, dammit! Not particularly wise, certainly not dignified, and the last time I checked, below my eyebrows, I'm hairless every place but one, and that makes a very short beard, indeed.'
'If you're saying a woman lacks the necessary demeanour to be an Evocator,' Gamelan said, 'then I suppose we had best give up the whole thing.'
'I didn't say that!'
'That's what I heard. heard. And now that I think on it, perhaps this whole thing is ridiculous. Perhaps the women-haters are correct. Perhaps it And now that I think on it, perhaps this whole thing is ridiculous. Perhaps the women-haters are correct. Perhaps it is is true that your s.e.x lacks the same mental powers as men, and, I must admit... without a beard, you probably-' true that your s.e.x lacks the same mental powers as men, and, I must admit... without a beard, you probably-'
'Give me those d.a.m.ned bones,' I snarled. I grabbed them from his hand and tossed. 'I still think this is stupid. From what you were saying about Greycloak and his laws of magic, bone-throwing makes no sense at all. How can a future be predicted, if there is no G.o.d-like plan to spy out? In fact, this whole exercise seems like one big-'
'What is it, Rali?' Gamelan asked.
'The bones,' I said.
'What about the bones?'
'I don't know, they... look good. good. I can't explain why. They just do!' I can't explain why. They just do!'
I described the pattern. Gamelan laughed. 'You are exactly right! Bright dawns are ahead, my friend. Bright dawns, indeed.'
And that is how I became a bone-caster. One moment I was an ignorant, the next a sage.
An hour later, I heard the lookout halloo - an island had been sighted. Excitement fired the fleet. The island was a poor, rocky-sh.o.r.ed thing with a slender pebbled beach hugging a few tired peaks. But any land at all stirred thoughts of home and hope. A scouting party was quickly sent out and it reported the island was uninhabited, but seemed to offer some food and drink. We went ash.o.r.e, leaving only a skeleton crew on the ships.
The gleeful mood, however, was short-lived. Within moments of landing, a cold, sticky mist enveloped us. There was little vegetation, and all of that sickly. What trees there were bore only a few bitter-tasting nuts. Stringy birds mocked us from the peaks with cries as harsh as a fishmonger. The water was drinkable, but barely. It came from a half-dozen steaming pools circling a small geyser that sat at the base of one of the squat peaks. The geyser fountained intermittently and weakly - only rising as far as my head.
I stood near the geyser, alone save for my blind wizard friend, thinking dark thoughts of magic and bone-casting in general. If this was the new luck that had been foretold, it was a mean-spirited thing. I heard cursing from a large knot of sailors who had gathered at one of the pools to fill casks with the foul-smelling water. I didn't blame them for the cursing - they were only voicing my own thoughts - but I became alarmed when I saw Cholla Yi and some of his officers standing nearby. The admiral was normally such a harsh master no one would dare complain in his presence.
One of the sailors - a big burly fellow with a bloated pillow of a nose -dipped up water, drank, then spat it out with an oath. 'Wh.o.r.e's p.i.s.s,' he said in a voice so loud that only a crop-eared thief could have missed it. He flung the dipper down. 'They got us drinking wh.o.r.e's p.i.s.s, now, mates. And if that ain't enough, they're making us fill our holds wi' itso's we'll know what fine lads they think we be for weeks t' come.'
One of his companions, a tall, skeletal villain with a chin as sharp as a dagger, spoke up just as loudly. 'It ain't gonna change 'long as that big b.i.t.c.h is givin' th' orders.'
He turned and looked directly at me, as did the others. Cholla Yi and his officers strolled away as if they'd heard nothing. I heard him laugh at something Phocas said, and then they disappeared behind a jumble of rock. All the men were looking at me now, bold as you please. Without another word being exchanged between them, their hands went to the knives at their belts.
Sensing danger, Gamelan tugged at my sleeve and whispered: 'We had best go.'
I knew we'd never take ten steps before those knives were in our backs. I was ready to draw my sword and make a fight of it - and even went so far as to shift my stance, when my boot glanced against a hard object. I looked down, meaning to kick away anything that might tangle my feet, and saw an empty conch sh.e.l.l - the size of a child's head. A feeling of great calm descended. My blood was hot - not with the fighting rage I'd bent to my will long ago, but with a kind power that was more like a river charging through a narrow course.
Instead of drawing my blade I bent and picked up the sh.e.l.l.
I spoke to Gamelan, but made my voice loud enough for all to hear. 'Here's another conch, my friend. I'll bet a fat purse of gold against a thin copper coin that its flesh is as sweet as its brother's.'
Gamelan's brow wrinkled. 'What are you-' He stopped abruptly. 'Oh.' I pressed the sh.e.l.l into his hands, and he quickly felt its shape. Then, raising his voice as well: 'Yes, it is another. I'm sure it'll be just as good as that last one we found not an hour ago.' He smacked his lips. 'Delicious. And do you know, its flavour quite reminds me of a rare sh.e.l.lfish our cooks used to serve up on feast days in Orissa. Food fit for the G.o.ds themselves.'
I looked at the men, widening my eyes as if I'd just noted their presence. Then I made my features stern and called out to them in my best commander's voice.
'You there. Stop what you're doing and come here at once.'
They were so startled their hands fell away from their knives. I motioned to them, impatient. 'Be quick about it, men. We've a hungry crew to feed.'
They stumbled forward, stiff as a rich child's mechanical toy. But before they reached me, Pillow Nose had begun to swagger and he and his skinny companion moved to the front.
I gestured at the sh.e.l.l. 'Start collecting these,' I ordered. 'You can use some empty water casks to put them in for now.' The men gaped at me. 'Don't dally. Do as I said. I'll make it right with your officers, so you needn't worry about that.'
Pillow Nose sneered. 'Why'd anyone want a cask of old sh.e.l.ls?' he said. He turned to his friends. 'She'll be havin' us stewin' rocks, next.' The men laughed, but there was a deadly edge to it.
'Don't talk foolishness, man,' I retorted. 'These are delicious.'
I plucked his knife from his belt quicker than he could blink. I plunged the knife into the sh.e.l.l, willing it to find life. I imagined a tidal pool, teeming with all sorts of swimming and crawling things. I felt something flinch under the blade. I dug in and scooped up, and out came a fat animal - thick and squirming on the knife.
'Wait a moment, and you'll see for yourself,' I said.
I knelt by the edge of the geyser and plunged the speared flesh into the steaming water. I thought of a pungent fish stew my mother used to make. And in my mind the sulphurous water was that rich stew, which I was using as a broth to cook the sh.e.l.lfish. I had no doubts at all, when, after a few seconds, I rose again and dumped the meat on a flat rock. Quickly I sliced it into many pieces. An enticing odour filled the air.
I speared a piece with the knife and took a bite. 'Mmm,' I sighed in real delight. 'Just like my mother's best dish.' I wasn't lying. It really did taste that good. I speared another hunk and held it out to Pillow Nose. 'Try it,' I said.
The sneer was gone as he took his knife. The others crowded about him. 'Go on, Santh,' his skinny friend urged. 'Give it a try.'
Pillow Nose - or Santh - popped the flesh into his mouth and chewed. Instantly a look of delight widened that great nose across his face. 'Why, it's good!' he exclaimed.
'Looks like there's enough for everyone to have a bite,' I said, indicating the sliced-up morsels.
They all jostled forward, grabbing what they could, and practically licked the rock clean.
'You say there are more of these about, Captain?' Pillow Nose asked. There was grudging respect in his tone.
'We've only found one other,' I lied. 'But there's certain to be many more. I was just consulting with Lord Gamelan, here, on how best to find where they breed.'
As soon as I said this, my confidence weakened. How could I possibly accomplish what I'd just all but promised?
Sensing my distress, Gamelan stroked his beard, looking wise. 'Give me the sh.e.l.l, Captain,' he said.
I handed it to him and the men stood in respectful silence as the old wizard turned it this way and that. He gave it back to me.
'Put it to your ear, Captain Antero,' he said, 'and listen.'' listen.''
I covered my puzzlement, and - wishing all the while I had a beard to stroke so I could at least look as if I knew what I was doing -I put the sh.e.l.l to my ear. I only heard the familiar sea noises we all hear from the first time we try this trick as children. put the sh.e.l.l to my ear. I only heard the familiar sea noises we all hear from the first time we try this trick as children.
'I didn't know fish talked,' I heard Pillow Nose's skinny friend say in some awe.
I wanted very badly to reply: Neither did I, brother, Neither did I. Then I remembered one of Gamelan's first lessons on spell-casting.
'I can't teach you all the spells in so short a time,' he'd said. 'The best ones fill many volumes on many shelves. Instead, I'll tell you what the young wizards - the followers of the late Janos Greycloak - advise. They claim that the words used to form a spell are not important. That they only serve to focus your energies. And I must admit there is truth to what they say. At my great age, I couldn't swear that the words I say are memorized spells, or created by me on the spot. They just come to me when I need them.'
'That's no help to the likes of me,' I replied. 'Words are your profession, wizard. Not mine.'
'If you listen closely, Rali,' he said, 'the words you require will come.'
'Listen?' I asked. 'Listen to whom?' 'To yourself, my friend. To yourself.'
So I held the sh.e.l.l to my ear, and listened. At first there were only the sea noises, and the slow hammer of my heart. Then a chill fingered my spine as I heard a voice. It came from within. Words rose like hot ash and I opened my lips and let them spew out: Sand and spume, Rock and Sea flower; I bear my shield As I bear my home: In the tidal bower Where the sun last touches.
I raised my head to see the sun's position. I pointed. 'There,' I said. 'Just beyond those rocks, you'll find a small beach, and just off it, the place where our briny cousins make their homes.'
There was no doubt in the men's minds as they cheered, grabbed the water casks and trooped off in the direction I pointed. Gamelan and I followed. Sure enough, there was a beach and tidal pool with hundreds of sh.e.l.lfish. I bade the men to call the others, and soon the beach was crowded with hungry men and women, scooping, sc.r.a.ping and netting until the whole sh.o.r.e was covered with food.
Someone started a big driftwood fire and heaped it with seaweed. Clams and mussels and conches and even a few score crabs were tossed onto the weed and the delicious steaming smell made our cares seem small.
Gamelan tapped his way to me. I thought he was going to congratulate me on my spell-casting. Instead he tugged at my sleeve and said: 'Tonight, Rali. You must speak to them tonight. There may not be a better time.'
And so that night I gave my maiden performance as an Evocator.
I ordered the crew and my Guardswomen to gather at the place where I'd found the conch sh.e.l.l. The site was Gamelan's idea, saying the atmosphere of steaming pools and bubbling geyser would help make the audience vulnerable.
It was a sullen group that gathered before me. The high spirits I'd invoked with my conjuring had been short-lived. The food I'd found had only been enough for that one meal - the tide pools had been sc.r.a.ped clean. There would be nothing to carry away from the island except the foul-tasting water. Cholla Yi had been opposed to the ceremony, saying there was little to cheer about and it would only make his crew angry. But Gamelan quelled him by asking, quite sternly, was he refusing to honour the G.o.ds?
I stood on a large boulder next to the geyser so all could see. Gamelan was at my side to coax me and whisper directions if I should need them. I quickly cast the spell he'd taught that magnified my voice, then I began. I opened with a short, and highly dramatic account of our adventures thus far, stressing our accomplishments. I spoke of our defeat of Lycanth, and our holy mission to hunt down the escaped Archon. I praised them for the heroism they'd shown in the sea battle, which had ended in the defeat of our dark enemy. Finally, I talked of the great gift the G.o.ds had bestowed upon us by allowing us to escape the terrible upheaval of the sea. Some of the men grew angry, shouting that it was no blessing, but bad luck. Ill luck, they said, that was my fault for bringing the curse of the Archon upon them.
'How dare you offend the G.o.ds so?' I thundered. My voice echoed and resounded against the rocks, startling even me. 'You are alive, aren't you? Is not that fact alone gift enough? And as for lost, why that is a temporary condition. We have all been given the chance of a lifetime by the great G.o.d of seekers everywhere - Te-Date! Do you dare question our mighty Lord?'
Fear of blasphemy silenced them. I went on: 'No one in all our history has sailed these seas,' I said. 'For countless generations our people have wondered what mysteries and riches awaited in the vast regions beyond the western edges of our world. You all know my brother, Amalric Antero, along with the mighty and wise Janos Greycloak, unravelled the secrets of the east by finding the legendary Far Kingdoms. Many adventurers have wept since that time, crying there was nothing new to be discovered. Well, here is your chance, oh, my brothers and my sisters. Here is the opportunity of a hundred lifetimes. What we learn here shall be carried back to our hearths and homes. Our names will be written on the Stones of Greatness for all to see and marvel over in the eons to come. And others will weep, my friends. Weep in helpless jealousy that they were not here to share our great adventure!'
I saw smiles and heard cheery mutterings for the first time in many a mournful day. And now that I'd hooked them, as Gamelan said, it was time to gaff them into the creel.
Calling on Te-Date and Maranonia, I commenced the show the wizard and I had planned. I threw a small pouch on the ground, causing a loud explosion to erupt. My audience gasped in wonder as colourful smoke swirled. I tossed small mirrors into the smoke and they burst upward, shattering into more pieces than there were stars in the night sky. Another explosion, and they shattered again, then rained gently down, glittering with colour, then melting into small droplets as they touched any surface, creating the most wonderful perfume. Then I performed the ribbon trick, and this time there was no fumbling or twine-making. Ribbons red and green and gold shot out from my fingers, wove themselves into filmy veils that caught the wind and swirled all around us like magical kites.
Gamelan and I had decided the next trick would be an even greater blast than the first, causing an enormous pillar of red smoke to rise up. Then I would call upon the G.o.ds to bless us in our adventures, and to stay by our sides until they came to a happy and fruitful end. I took out the pouch of ingredients I'd mixed at the wizard's direction. It was fatter so as to make a larger display. But as I was about to hurl it down, something stopped me. I felt a ghost-like hand on my arm nudging me to turn. When I saw the bubbling geyser a voice whispered in my ear, directing me. I threw the pouch into the steaming pool.
Instead of an explosion, a horn larger and louder than any mortal has ever seen trumpeted. The geyser shot up twice a tall woman's height and whirled like a desert dervish. It was a cacophony of vivid colours. Other music joined the trumpet, drums and strings and pipes all blended into a wondrous sound. The pools surrounding the geyser burst up like their mother, whirling about in wild dance to the tune of the ghosdy players.