Date: Fri, 01 Sep 2006 15:51:32 -0700
From: Trewin Greenaway <trewingreenaway@cronnex.com>
Subject: A TALE OF WIZARDRY (Jessan-20)

            JESSAN -- A TALE OF WIZARDRY Chapter 20

Copyright 2006 Trewin Greenaway All Rights Reserved

To learn more about me and the genesis of this tale, visit my website
http://www.cronnex.com/ .

I try to post a new chapter every Saturday if possible. (I know I've been
slipping up lately, but, hey, it's summer!!) Anyway, if you're enjoying the
story, do let me know!

    ooooooooooooo0000O000ooooooooooooooo

                 Chapter 20

alone in Sondaram. I willed the time to move here at the same rate as
outside; if I could, I would have speeded up the time outside the palace to
get the rest of the day over as soon as possible. I felt too restless to go
down below and sit and so, instead, I climbed the stairs and went to my
sleeping room.
	I sat down at the writing desk, dug my enkiridion from my sack,
sharpened a quill, and opened the bottle of ink. I then set myself to
filling as many pages as I could before the sun went down, blotting each
page carefully with one of the loose sheets of paper on the table. The lamp
Caelas had left was very nice, but he had neglected to leave a tinderbox
for me to use to light it, and lamp wicks are tricky things to get burning.
	When the sun reached the horizon, I drew my chair to the window and
watched it sink, a great glowing molten ball that changed from orange to
red to scarlet as it sank out of sight behind the sea. It was a good omen
for tomorrow, so far as sailing was concerned. Soon, only a few distant
clouds on the horizon were still aglow and the sky passed through deeper
and deeper shades of blue until its color couldn't be told from black.
	As the sun set, the lights set into the walls had begun to glow, so
I wasn't left in the dark. I went down and into the garden and ate my fill
of fruit, while bats flittered among the trees. They didn't come into
Sondaram and I wondered idly whether, if I gave them permission, they would
want to. Much to learn; five hundred years in which to do so.
	I sighed, stood, and went back inside. I drifted past the force and
ran my fingers through it. Something else to miss when we set sail
tomorrow. As I crossed the cool, shadowy hall, I felt a slight chill, and
remembered I'd seen a robe in my room, cast over a chair.
	I went up and slipped it on. To my surprise, it fit me perfectly. A
gift! But from whom? It was beautifully made of an expensive fabric in
which arcane symbols shimmered in gold on a field of what sometimes seemed
a deep purple and sometimes a darkly glowing red.
	"Very wizardly," I thought. I picked up my wand of power and went
to the head of the stairs, to where a bearded graven head poked out from
the wall.  "Announce me!" I commanded it in jest. To my astonishment, the
face came immediately to life, opened its mouth, and bellowed: "Attend, ye
mortals, and behold! The Nithaial Galgaliel descends!" The words echoed
around the great hall.
	I was too shocked to proceed majestically down the stairs. Instead,
I slunk down in a state of total embarrassment -- which only increased when
there was the sound of hurrying footsteps and a soldier appeared panting on
the portico.
	"Are you all right, Nithaial?" he asked. "We heard shouting."
	I went over to him. He was, for all his weaponry, little older than
I.
	"It was a spell that went awry," I said, somewhat truthfully. I
eyed him speculatively. He had sandy hair, a dusting of light freckles, and
honest brown eyes. "What is your name?" I inquired in what I thought was my
most seductive manner.
	"Perrion, Nithaial," he replied, blushing furiously. I suddenly
realized he was regarding me with something akin to terror. I
sighed. Ironically, if I were Jessan, I'd have a much better chance of
luring him into the bushes than, as the Nithaial, I had in inviting him up
to my bedroom. In any case, it wasn't a good idea. He'd only make me think
of Faryn and my sadness would be that much more bitter.
	"Thank you, Perrion," I said. "I shall report your quickness to
Caelas when I see him tomorrow."
	I then dismissed him with a gesture and watched him flee back to
the safety of his comrades, perhaps even faster than he had come. I
imagined what help he'd have provided had he found me battling for my life
with some Demon Lord, and smiled -- the first time since the events at the
town square. "For that, at least, Perrion," I thought, "I thank you."
	I turned and descended the stairs to the sanctum below, wrapped
myself in my robe, sat on the great stone chair, and tucked my legs under
me. I commanded the lights to dim to almost nothing, and sat there a long
time.
	What Grysta had told me about the holiness of this place added
little to the reverence I already felt, for I was ignorant of the import of
what she said. I tried to imagine the presence she described, but to no
avail.
	You don't imagine such a thing, you invoke it with prayer; you make
yourself available to it in a way that is humble and inviting and aware,
and I knew nothing of such things. Instead, I let my mind drift off into a
state of emptiness, as if the cup of thought had been drained, cleaned, and
polished, then set back into its place upon the shelf.

At last I was sleepy enough to consider bed. I went back up to my room, set
my wand of power back on the writing table and began to carefully fold up
the robe. As I did so, something tumbled out of a hidden pocket. I bent
over and picked it from the floor. It was a small container made of a
fragrant wood, shaped as a hexagon, with JESSAN carved onto it, one initial
to a side. I didn't open it, for I knew what it contained, and I also now
knew who had given me the robe. I set the box containing the 'Warrior's
Friend' next to the wand and brought the robe to bed. I covered myself with
it, commanded the lights to fade away, and went to sleep.
	However, I didn't sleep long. I was awakened by someone sitting on
the side of the bed, kicking off his boots and pulling his tunic over his
head.
	"Caelas?" I whispered.
	"This bed is too large for one person," he answered, "especially
someone as slight as you."
	He lay beside me, extending an arm to allow me to snuggle up close
against his body. I did so and he reached over to pull a blanket over us,
his fingers encountering the robe instead.
	"Ah," he said. "So you liked it."
	I reached over and lay my arm across his chest. "I loved it," I
said, "even before I knew it was from you."
	"I ordered it made for you after the first time we met," he
said. "A Nithaial without a robe is a sorry sight, especially if the
alternative was that scruffy shirt you were wearing then."
	"My mother made that for me," I said with mock reproach, and lying
as well, since the shirt was Alfrund's.
	"Yes, when you were but twelve," he replied.
	I reached up and pulled his beard. "Ah, so you think modesty
becomes a Nithaial," I said. "Orien explained to me that the word actually
translates from the olden tongue as 'looks very attractive in shortish
shirts.'"
	The bed shook from Caelas's silent laughter. "You are a handful,
without a doubt," he said. "But now it's time to sleep -- we must make an
early start in the morning."
	"Oh, no," I said, through a yawn.
	"Oh, yes," Caelas said. "I can barely keep my eyes open, and
neither can you."
	"Very well," I said. "I suppose you're right. But just one question
first: what did you say to the watch as you went by?"
	"I said nothing, of course," Caelas said. "An officer owes no
explanation to anyone except his superiors -- certainly not to his men."
	"And you're the superiors' superior," I whispered. I was very
sleepy. I closed my eyes, clutched him tightly, and began to drift away.
	"Exactly," Caelas said, as from a great distance. "I provide
explanations only to you."

At the crack of dawn, Caelas roused me. He produced a soldier's bag into
which I could pack my things. I put on my new shirt, which we had collected
yesterday, but the rest of the clothing I packed away. If we were to be on
a ship, I would wear what I wore on the fishing boat, with the addition of
a breechclout, as seamen on such ships habitually wore.
	It was all done in a moment. I hesitated over my new robe. I could
see no point in bringing it on the trip; I would be happy knowing it was
waiting for me here. However, Caelas saw my hesitation, and said, "I think
you should wear that until you get aboard ship, so that you will appear as
a proper Nithaial before the public. There's no harm in a little awe." I
gave him a glance but slipped it over my shirt.
	Before we left, Caelas led us out onto the terrace, where he took
my sack and set it on the ground. Then he splashed his face with cold water
from the fountain, and gestured me to do the same.
	"Thank you," I said, "but I'm already cold enough." There was a
chill in the air which would vanish once the sun came over the
mountains. But right now it made me shiver, and I wrapped my arms around
myself.
	Caelas suddenly seized me with both arms, lifted me up, and, as I
shrieked, dunked my head into the water. He released me all spluttering and
furious with him.
	"That's no way to treat a Nithaial!" I shouted at him.
	"Ah, unlike at night, in the morning we stand on our dignity,"
Caelas answered, unmoved. "But starting today, you're going to live like a
soldier and so you'd better start acting like one."
	"Well, I won't be presenting a clean face for any morning
inspection," I retorted.
	"No, you won't," Caelas agreed, "fortunately for you. But that
isn't the point. From the moment you get up in the morning, you'll need all
your senses as alert as you can make them. Drowsy awakenings will have to
wait until you reach a safe place with a good bed. And you'll then enjoy
them all the more."
	I'd no retort to this, so I bent over and shook as much water from
my hair as I could. It was true that I wasn't as cold as before, but that
wasn't due to the cold dunk but my fury at having been given it. I left
Sondaram in a sullen silence.
	As we crested the hill, I looked among the soldiers, standing
rigidly at attention, for Perrion. But, of course, his watch was long
over. However, it did remind me that I'd promised to mention his name to
Caelas and so, after a bit, I told him what had happened the night
before. I wasn't happy being angry with him and I thought my tale would
bring with it a fresh mood.
	Instead, Caelas stopped dead in his tracks. "He addressed you how?"
	"As 'Nithaial,'" I answered. "He could hardly be expected to know
my name was Jessan."
	"Don't be an idiot," Caelas answered. "He should have addressed you
as 'Nithaial Galgaliel, Highest of All High,' and not presented himself by
his name like some civilian. I will have a word with this Perrion, and with
his squad leader as well!"
	"Oh Caelas," I said. "Why are you being like this? He's my age, if
that, and for him, as for me, his life here must be new and strange. I've
no idea how to address you or what your rank is or even how I should be
addressed. Except that 'Highest of All High' would be my last choice."
	"I made that up," Caelas admitted, "to make the point. Quite
honestly, the way to formally address a Nithaial wasn't part of my
education either, there being none then to address.
	"As to myself, if you wish to be polite, in public you should
address me as 'Prince Caelas,' since my title has priority over my
rank. That, though, for your information, is 'High Commander,' and as such
my officers refer to me. Ordinary soldiers generally are identified by
their weapon. So your friend should have introduced himself as
'Shortswordsman Perrion, Sondaram Watch Detail' -- or whatever his current
duty was." He snorted. "'Perrion' indeed! You must have been flirting
furiously with him."
	I took Caelas's hand. "Of course I was," I said. "But I thought
better of it when I saw how much I terrified him. I realized that if I
wanted him in my bedroom I would have to carry him in a dead faint up the
stairs myself."
	Caelas laughed and squeezed my hand. "All right, Jessan," he
said. "I won't be hard on this lad. But I will summon him anyway, to gaze
upon those 'honest brown eyes' for myself."
	I glanced at him to see if he were joking, but with Caelas you
could never tell. In any case, we had arrived at Grysta's door. Caelas bent
down and kissed me gently. "Happy Coming of Age Day," he said.
	"No," I said. "That will happen tomorrow, for all it's worth."
	"Ah, of course," Caelas said. Then he drew himself up, saluted, and
said formally, "High Commander Caelas, at your service. I shall return at
mid-morning with an honor guard to escort you and your party to your ship,
for the tide turns at noon."
	"Thank you, Prince Caelas, O Superiors' Superior," I gravely
replied, and slipped through the door.

Inside I smelled not porridge cooking but the fragrant aroma of hot
cakes. In the kitchen waiting for me were not only Grysta and Onna, but
Alfrund, Orien, and even Fendal, all wearing their best dress. It reminded
me immediately of when Alfrund and I'd declared ourselves twerëi, and tears
came to my eyes. I went to him and embraced him, and then everyone else,
including Orien, who, under his robe, was even thinner than I had imagined.
	"We decided to surprise you with a celebration today," Alfrund
said. "That way, all who love you may attend, at least the ones who haven't
already been with you today."
	"Caelas!" I exclaimed. "That explains his congratulations! So he
was in on the secret, too."
	Alfrund nodded. "I had a long chat with him yesterday, and told him
of our adventures. He was very interested to hear about the war dogs and
the sinking of the galley. I'll wager this morning he treated you with even
greater respect."
	Onna opened her mouth to say something, but thought better of it,
and gave me a sly poke instead, as I passed her on my way to the place of
honor.
	Usually, the ceremony on this day is marked by many speeches, each
of the adults feeling called upon to wrap each present with a lavish amount
of advice -- some of it wise, some of it platitudinous, and some of it
forthrightly bawdy. This morning, however, partly because time was pressing
and partly (I suspected) because they felt uncomfortable speaking this way
to a Nithaial, the giving of presents was accompanied only by warm
embraces, along with wishes for the success of our expedition from those
who were staying behind.
	As I've mentioned, under my robe I was already wearing the longer
shirt that men adopt when they come of age and that reaches almost down to
the knees. Now Alfrund and Orien presented me with the belt I was to wear
with it, Alfrund because the belt was his gift, and Orien because his
present was a beautifully crafted clasp for it, worked from silver and
inset with the sign of the Cronnex, fashioned of opal and onyx. Together,
they fastened the belt around my waist to great applause.
	Then Fendal set into my hands a sheath which, although made for a
long dagger, held my wand perfectly, and could be fasted to my belt. This
was both unexpected and perfectly chosen and I not only embraced him again
but kissed him, which pleased him and Alfrund greatly.
	Onna had asked her brother, who apprenticed to a leathersmith, to
fashion me a purse that also hung from my belt in which I could carry coins
(if I had any) and other necessary things, such as the small container of
'Warrior's Friend' that Caelas had given me.
	Speaking of Caelas, he had left (yet another) gift for me, with
instructions given to Alfrund so that he could explain it to me. Alfrund
gave it to me first, and a very odd-looking thing it was, carved from an
unfamiliar wood and resembling a small flute, with five holes for
controlling the sounds. I put it to my lips and gave a tentative blow on
it. The sound it made was extremely high-pitched and penetrating, and
absolutely foreign.
	"You won't hear anything," Alfrund said, "or at least you're not
supposed to. It's used to train and control war dogs. When I told Caelas
that those were probably the only things on earth you feared, he sent for
the Dog Master and had got this whistle from him and then had him dictate
to a scribe how to finger the various sounds and what response the dogs are
supposed to make. That is all explained here," and he passed me a piece of
parchment.
	"That's a strange present," Onna remarked.
	"More so than you'd imagine," Alfrund answered. "The method
originates with the demon soldiers, who use it to control some other pack
of beasts, far more fearsome than dogs. And this whistle, so Caelas assures
me, is of genuine demon make."
	A silence fell across the room. Then Orien asked to see it. When I
passed it to him, he examined it carefully. "I would not expect such
craftsmanship from them," he said at last. "This is very skillfully
done. Still, I agree with Onna. It is a very odd present to give a
Nithaial."
	Perhaps it is, I thought to myself, but he didn't give it to a
Nithaial. He gave it to Jessan, and he is fascinated by it.
	Grysta was last, and her present was both the humblest of them all
and the one that moved me most. For it was the cloth that she had wrapped
me in when she had first found me as a babe in Sondaram.
	"I've kept this all these years to remind myself of you," she
said. "And now I give it you so that you will be reminded of me." Tears
streaked down both our faces and I held her tightly for a long time.
	Then we brought benches and chairs from all parts of the house and
feasted on hot cakes and honey and drank the best ale of Gedd and laughed
and joked as though we were a bunch of Fendal's apprentices on a lark. And
this continued until a knock at the door announced the arrival of Caelas
and soldiers who would accompany us down to the sea.
	In the commotion that followed, I drew Onna aside and pressed the
enkiridion I had composed for her into her hands. "You will understand what
this is," I whispered to her.
	Great joy appeared on Onna's face when she took the little book,
bound in its golden-green fabric of twining leaves, and she opened it with
trembling hands. But then a shadow crossed her face, which I understood at
once.
	"No," I said, "I copied none of this from Alfrund. Each entry has
been transmuted through my own understanding and limited experience. You're
to build on it and transmute it further -- but now, at least, you've a good
place to start. And when Grysta sees this, she'll understand how highly I
regard you. Then, I think. she'll become more forthcoming with what she
knows."
	Onna threw her arms around me, kissed me, and whispered her thanks
in my ear. I hugged her back, and thought how much Grysta and she had
become family for me, so much more so than the grim life with Peta and
Pelun. But already we were being urged to depart. I released Onna, we
smiled at each other, and I quickly slid what gifts I wasn't already
wearing into my pack. Then we were outside waving goodby, and the door to
this life closed behind me forever.