Fates Choice Page 20
“There, that’s better isn’t it” said Elswyth smiling her bright green eyes at him.
“Uhh...yes”. Torr pointed at the departing Abbot. “He’s just...well, I’ve never seen him like that before, you know...smiling”.
“I know” grinned Elswyth, still full of her confident composure. “He’s had more than anyone. Still, with him gone, that’s one less pair of eyes to watch over us...come on”.
She grabbed at his arm, which was still pointing in the direction of Abbot Cleaves, and tried to drag him away from the table.
“Hey, hang on, slow down, ow, mind my leg”.
For such a lithe and petite figure, Elswyth seemed quite strong, pulling Torr upright, who did his best not to limp as they walked across the room. They ducked through the guests, and into the open cloister courtyard, where only a few people had started to venture.
“So - I’ve gathered the gist of what occurred but I was hoping you could fill me on some of the other stories that some of our men had come back with”. Elswyth was still leading Torr as they drew level with the large statue of The Sunlords Champion, set in a pose of pious prayer, said to depict his final supplication before battling the Arch Dragon. The statue was set in the middle of a large water feature around the circumference of the statue itself. It was only as Torr walked past it now, as he had done countless times before, that he realised it was probably the same size of the giantkin he had killed.
The size of the statute and surrounding shallow pond meant that Torr and Elswyth were actually disappearing from view from most of the other guests, despite the young man’s slightly slower pace.
“What do you mean...look, why don’t we sit here” Torr pointed to a bench on the far side of the statue, facing three doors on the opposite side of the cloister from the room where the guests were being entertained and fed.
Torr knew that two of the rooms led to dormitories and the third, he thought, was just a store room.
“Actually, I was hoping for a little bit more peace and quiet”. Elswyth pointed to the doors. “Which is best? Oh come now, you studied here not me, which one will give us some privacy whilst we talk”. Elswyth had to close Torr’s mouth again. He wondered if most of his conversations with this entirely innocent looking girl would end up with his mouth agape and no eloquent response.
“Well, I think that one, maybe”, pointing to what he thought was the storeroom. “The other two are dormitories and might have one or studious or tired acolytes in them still”. He half sat on the bench anyway to try and rest his leg.
“Righto then, let’s give it a whirl shall we”. Elswyth pulled at Torr’s hand again, which she had not let go of as they walked across the courtyard, and led him towards the middle of the three doors that Torr had indicated.
It was open. Torr gave a surreptitious look over his shoulder before they disappeared into the straw laden room and shut the door behind them. Torr took a broom handle and wedged it under the handle as best he could. There was a single window of the far wall of this room, which housed some grain and some straw bales, for the Abbey’s bestiary, which they used to sit on. The shutters on the far window were closed though so the only light was that coming through the cracks underneath the window and door but it was still light enough that they could just about see. However, Torr could make out the shape of a candle in a lantern hung by a short metal chain on the wall. He suddenly had an idea.
“Want to see a magic trick?”
He concentrated on picturing a flame and started to feel the, by now, familiar tingling in his hands. During his compulsory rest over the last ten-day he’d had plenty of time to practice. Eventually, even though the candles in his room were also in brass lanterns, Torr had managed to set them aflame. This one should be no different, he hoped. As he focused, the candlewick started to smoulder and then a small flame appeared, burning constantly, and dimly lighting up the room.
Torr turned to Elswyth with a big grin on his face. Now it was the young girl’s turn to look astonished. Torr went to put his hand under the girls chin but, quickly, she grabbed his hand whilst still staring at the flame.
“So that answers my first question then” she said, still with a dumbfounded expression on her face.
“Learnt I could do it the night before we went into battle, which didn’t help my nerves, I might add”.
“I’m sure”. Elswyth was still looking at the flame but still firmly grasping his hand. “Oh...here”. She reached into her dress and drew out two small silver hip flasks and passed one to Torr. She unscrewed her own and took a swig, giving a slight cough as she swallowed.
“From father’s cabinet - go on” she encouraged. Torr sniffed and caught the scent of a strong, distilled, flavour. He looked at her again as he took a swig and a smile returned to her lips. Elswyth seemed the most unlikely of girls to get herself into such trouble. He had no doubt she could present herself as a paragon of well heeled virtue yet there was a confidence to her character that she had displayed even when she had dragged him onto the dance floor before they left Valheimer’s garrison. He remembered then that she had mentioned having had a drink before approaching him. He wondered if this was the source of her courage now but, somehow, there was just an aura to her that suggested she was a far more observant and perceptive person than she would let on.
“Whiskey?” he ventured, trying not to cough himself from the small sip he took. He recognised the broad fiery taste and texture on his throat from Bernhart’s offering the night before the battle.
Elswyth gave another cough and nodded as she took, what appeared to be, a larger gulp than Torr was willing to take. “Mm...hmm...yes. All the way from The Whistling Plains. Very nice during The Withering, which I guess is why they drink this stuff a lot up there”.
She shifted on her straw bale so she was facing him directly, which meant she was astride the bale, another clue to her mischievous side as this was certainly not a seated pose that she would dare take in public.
“So, is there anything else you can do, I mean can you summon creatures or conjure great wealth or more whiskey?”
Torr shook his head as he took another swig. “No, well, I don’t think so, well, I don’t know yet. I’m supposed to go back once my leg has healed properly so they, I guess, can assess me. I don’t know really what you call it. There wasn’t really time to go into it in detail but I don’t fancy staying there. Their apprentices take some sort of vow of abstinence”.
“Ghastly”. Torr wasn’t sure if it was the thought of going without or the whiskey that made Elswyth shake at his advices.
“I want to go back though. Raeknor is still there and...” His voice trailed off. She took both of his hands this time, cupping them in her own and moving closer to him so they were now just inches apart, facing each other on their straw bales. Although he knew Raeknor was alive, he needed to see his friend for himself. What if he had fallen ill again since the message from Oaks Keep had been received?
“I understand the men of Paega bore the brunt of the attack but I’m also told that a certain young cavalry officer killed the biggest beast there was with his magical flaming mace, even though he was injured”. She placed a hand on his upper leg. Torr’s immediate thought had been replaced by feelings of guilt and worry. That he was here, able to enjoy himself and Raeknor was not. So many others had not returned either, including men from their own shipyard. He felt his head drop.
Elswyth was silent for a moment before she placed both hands on each side of his face, lifted it so it was right in front of her own, and kissed him. After a while she pulled back, pushed him off his bale and then quickly straddled him before he could get up off the straw covered floor.
“Now, let’s see what we can do to help heal that leg of yours shall we”.
CHAPTER TWELVE
A s the season of Stormsen started to take hold, Torr had been allowed to start riding again, although the going was starting to get softer under foot as he took Scout out for regular runs. He had
also been gifted with the full military bow that he had commissioned whilst training at the garrison. The bow had been presented along with a message scroll from Garel. His officer’s commission was to remain open as he was to report back to Bernhart Rowe as soon as he had fully recovered. Torr was to send a return message to Garel when he departed for Oaks Keep.
Actually, he had received a scroll bearing the Oaks Keep seal the day before, as a mark of the master wizard’s efficiency, confirming that he should be receiving orders from Garel to report to Oaks Keep and that he was very much looking forward to seeing Torr again. The message also confirmed that Raeknor continued his own road to recovery whilst staying at Oaks Keep.
He had hoped as much. Raeknor’s parents had actually visited the Skarsdales just two days ago, to convey the positive news also. They had even been able to make a trip down to Oaks Keep and were able to confirm that Raeknor actually seemed content remaining at Oaks Keep as the library had been put at his disposal. Torr had hoped to see Raeknor’s family, to get this news earlier, at the Abbey ceremony itself. He presumed they would have been invited, but Elswyth intervened before he could find them.
The young cavalry officer and merchant’s daughter had parted company, cracking the store room door open and leaving individually when they could. He had not seen her again before he left and there were no other scheduled festivals or ceremonies set to take place before Torr would be leaving again.
He therefore concentrated his efforts over the next ten-day building up his strength again before he and Scout set off for Oaks Keep.
He took one of his heavier and freshly waxed riding gear sets to allow for poorer weather on his journey down to the wizard’s enclave, making his first stop at the coaching house just south of Tantes. He noticed far more single travellers using the road and a healthy dose of merchant’s caravans also flowing as news spread further afield of the bandits’ demise.
Although the showers were frequent, the petrichor and scenery along the road made for a pleasant journey. The road had been recently re-soiled as well, in anticipation of the change in season adding to the sight and smell of travel over the next few days.
Torr arrived at Oaks Keep just in time for supper. He dined in the hall where he, Bernhart and the other officers had sat and made their final battle preparations sometime before. Oaks Keep had a far more tranquil feel to it now, without the chaos of over a hundred armed men arriving. The soft clanking of the smithy even seemed to compliment the evening birdsong. He had been greeted by two of the apprentices who silently took Torr’s gear and Scout respectively. As Scout was led away, he was then greeted by Cedwyn, the only apprentice who appeared to have gained the right to speak again. She had told Torr that he would be quartered in the same room that he had stayed in previously.
He had then dined with Bernhart and Silus Wideksun who now had the opportunity to introduce himself by his full title of Chief Apothecary and Master of Apprentices. One or two other senior wizards joined them. Torr gained the impression that this was not the greeting reserved for most apprentices. He still presumed that was to be the main purpose of his visit here. His instruction scrolls from both Garel and invitation from Bernhart had made no reference to any specific topic. The conversation was cordial and unspecific until the end. Silus then announced that, if Torr wished, they could go and see Raeknor now. Torr was surprised, and a little disappointed that his friend had not come to great him or sat with them over supper.
Silus led Torr not to the infirmary but to the library complex. Again, the walk seemed longer than it should have taken, Silus advising Torr that the main libraries were one of the most important aspects of the keep and were therefore buried deep in the heart of the facility. There were no locks on any of the doors as Torr was confidently told that any would-be thief who somehow found the libraries in the first place would never find their way out alive. Torr did not doubt what he was told. Silus had made so many turns along identical looking corridors that he found himself walking as closely as he could to the master wizard for fear of losing him around one of the turns.
They descended a final flight of steps. As they did so, Torr could feel a breeze on his face. As they descended the last step, the corridor appeared to be opening out in front of them, almost cavern-like. Until now, the difference in scale between the inside and outside of Oaks Keep was subtle, only hinted at through different twists and turns. Now the settlement was about to shout out its magical heritage as both men left the corridor and came out into a ravine. Each side was spanned by a large stone bridge maybe one hundred yards long. There were no supports as the ravine seemed bottomless. On the other side was an entirely separate building, bigger, far bigger, than the keep itself. Its rounded stone aspect was lined with small windows, almost too many to count and on at least five different levels. From some, the flicker of candles and lanterns could be seen. There were two smaller wings, one on each side, of the main building but identical in architecture and shape. The terracotta coloured slate roof was topped by a large gleaming statue of an opened book, at least fifteen foot in height, probably higher, as they started to walk across the bridge. It looked to be made of solid gold.
“Mind your footing young man. It’s not unknown for guests to get lost in the spectacle of The Library of Oaks Keep and walk clean over the edge”.
“How...”
“Well, I guess they stop looking where they are going and just...oh, you mean how is this possible?”
Silus put a hand round the back of Torr’s shoulders as it was becoming evident that the spectacle of the library might claim another victim as the young man started to walk closer to the edge.
“It predates the founding of Oaks Keep as we know it but the cavern is actually natural enough, well, sort of. Successive generations of master wizards have added to the building as our little repository of knowledge grows”. Their pace had slackened as Torr tried to take in the magnitude of what was before him. He was starting to see why apprentices would want to stay.
They crossed the bridge and walked towards the huge entrance to the main building that was set back from its side of the ravine by low walled and meticulously maintained gardens, apprentices working the horticulture oblivious to the two men’s approach. The grand hall of the main library was no less impressive. Huge statues of wizards acting as structural supports to the roof high above them as they walked across a polished marble floor. Torr could see no natural sources of light as they walked across and found a small staircase on the far side of the hall, invisible until they were only a few steps away. It was a traditional spiral staircase only wide enough for one person at a time. Surely this could not be the only access to the rest of the building? Torr thought as he followed Silus’ flowing gown. They came out onto a large landing with a balcony on the far side. Two loungers had been placed against two of the walls and most of the polished floor was covered with a deep furry-looking rug.
“In the guest room there you will find your friend”. Silus pointed to the door on their left. “When you have finished, I shall be over there”. He pointed to an identical door on their right. Silus smiled at Torr who was still slightly dumb struck with awe. The master wizard had to nod to Torr, to encourage his legs to move and open the door where he was told Raeknor was waiting for him.
It was with some trepidation that Torr put his arm out to twist the metal ringed handle, wondering what he would find on the other side. A full blown castle perhaps?
It was, however, quite a modest, but exquisitely furnished room. It reminded Torr a little of the meeting rooms in the merchant’s guild back in Paega. Both walls were lined with bookshelves, crammed with tomes of all sizes as well as individual parchments, some of which were opened on the central table. There were two padded chairs at each end.
Torr noticed a fireplace, although the logs in the hearth had not been lit. Given the time of year and their proximity to a bottomless ravine, the building seemed noticeably warm from the moment they stepped into the grand hall.<
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The unmistakable figure of Raeknor was standing, back to Torr, engrossed in a book. Torr was not even sure the young magistrate had heard him enter.
“This place is insane!” Torr blurted out. Raeknor turned at him and smiled. It was not his usual grin and there was no retort or wit. With his remaining arm, Raeknor just motioned to Torr to take the seat nearest him. Raeknor went to do the same but moved towards his own chair and seemed to stop, having instinctively moved his shoulder joint to pull the seat out from under the table. Momentarily a pained expression crossed his face as he put the book down he had been holding, before reaching across his body with his one arm to pull the seat back.
Torr felt like rushing over to his friend and hugging him, but there was a distant air about the young magistrate that was palpable. Strong physical shows of emotion between these two friends had never been required. They knew each other on an intrinsic level but there was something now that made Torr want to cry. He sat down and, for the first time in his life, did not know what to say to Raeknor.
“So, how are you then?” Even Raeknor’s opening gambit was devoid of emotion or mirth. Just the polite enquiry of two individuals only loosely acquainted with each other.
“Never mind me, how about you, what’s wrong?”
“Oh nothing, nothing really” Raeknor did not meet his friends gaze to begin with but then looked up and smiled. “Been getting used to this place actually. Fantastic isn’t it?”
“Yes, marvellous - when you coming home. Got some things to catch up on”.
“Oh, I’m not sure actually. Silus said I’m probably well enough to travel but... I may stay, at least for a while. I’ve found plenty here to keep me occupied and” - Raeknor paused “I could stay to become a Lore Master if I choose”.
“A what, a master what?” Torr was starting to raise his voice. He could see embers on the fire start to glow with his anger.