y work in the castle has settled into a routine, and there are times when I do not feel harried or put upon. Rather, I spend my time in the proper, deliberate practice of magic, enjoying the simple pleasures of the craft such as the sweet smell of honeysuckle, the restful gurgling of an alchemical process, and the pleasant thud of my staff as I complete a ritual. However, with the arrival of the springtime sun and windblown scents of grass and earth, working in the dark confines of the castle loses something. As I enchant yet another archway, garderobe, or set of lady’s paints, my mind wanders to the songs of great deeds and far-away lands sung by troubadours and bards.
Archive for ‘Kean’
hy cannot more fathers be like Goran? Lett adores him. She and her father left the castle today, and it was a tearful farewell. I think Goran will miss her, too. She was his first enthusiastic student. Spirits know that she showed more interest in his craft than I ever did.
The funny thing is, when I saw him standing over her, explaining the vagaries of hammer and anvil, I was struck as if by the wand of a wolf fairy, and mischief surely sparkled in my eye. As the castle thaumaturge, I have been learning many new rituals and practicing more enchantments than ever. I have had little use for my tricks from Tarrance, but some of the rituals I have researched made me think of them. The night previous to visiting Goran, I had pored over Kean’s tome and my book from Badger, and my mind was bright with cantrips, curses, and strange rites. And like a musical, mystical tap on my forehead, I saw Goran’s anvil and knew how to convince the lout to see things my way.
Now, I have only to work out the details. It is difficult to keep the grin from my face whenever I see him, but at least I can keep my mouth shut.
continuous scarlet flame painted the sky. It was a dusk like I had never seen. The band was touched by the flame, and it gleamed red like an open wound.
A vulture croaked forlornly, and its fellows nesting in the cliffs joined it in a guttural chorus. Cattle milled through the fields off the south side of the castle.
I shivered. My skin prickled, as if spirits watched. Despite my fears at what the starscopes could tell me, a vague feeling spurred me on. Kean, and then I, by our intentions had ordained it as a night of revelations, and it was as if, once decided, a great confluence of gods and fates had invested me with finishing the task. The spirits of the land and sky knew the night was auspicious, and I would make it otherwise at my own peril.
oday I officially accepted my new position.
It was a morning affair. The crier read the order to the assembled court, and I noticed Fina sitting off to the side. She smiled. I smiled back, but it was forced. After my meeting with Kean, I had gone to the starscopes, only to find them destroyed. After questioning around, I learned that Lady Reiling had wrecked them in a fit of rage, but I wondered if Fina had played a part as well.
Putting these thoughts aside, I approached the duke. Duke Sorley leaned forward on his throne and said, “You are hereby elevated to the position of custodial thaumaturge of Cannaghdown. Do you accept this responsibility to duke and duchy?”
“Yes,” I said.
“The tools, effects, and office are yours. Serve with honor.”
he old, ramshackle house stood forlorn at the corner of town. It was the duke’s parting gift to the man who had served his family for so many years, a home for an old man who had lost almost everything.
He opened the door at my knock. He stumped away from the door, his two canes resting like retired weapons in the corner of the room. “The wandering apprentice returns,” he said.
“How are you?” I said.
“About as well as could be expected,” he said. “Disgraced. Selling glamours for favors. Trying to keep Temilla’s ‘help’ at bay. Rotten all around.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“To the pit with it. Couldn’t keep your mouth shut, eh? Not even with a little help!” He cursed and spat.
“I don’t understand,” I said.
He leered at me and said, “Your little friend did this to me. Oh, it was the Reiling bitch who went to Sorley, but I could see the girl’s hand in it. Damned slut.”
And then I hit him, open handed, across the face. My hand stung, but it was a good sting.