Ascendant (32 page)

"So?"

"So, you
never took a sip yourself?"

Koren was
surprised. "That's Lord Salva's coffee. He has the beans brought in from
his homeland twice a year, it's expensive."

"Yeah,
but, come on, you never took a little sip? The wizard wouldn't notice."

Koren wasn't
sure about that. Wizards had ways of knowing things. And that didn't matter.
Koren owed the roof over his head, and the food in his belly, to the wizard. He
shook his head. "That would be stealing."

"Steal-"
Cully stopped, when he realized Koren wasn't joking.

"You
don't work for a wizard, Cully. He could turn me into a frog, if he thought I
was stealing from him. This isn't a time of year to be without a roof over your
head."

One especially
dreary winter day, when the cold rain dripping down the gray stone walls of the
tower had become such a commonplace sound that people only paid attention when
it stopped for a blessed moment, Paedris put down his spoon, and pushed away
the bowl with a sigh.

“
Is the food bad, Lord
Salva?
”
Koren
asked. The cooks in the royal kitchens said they were beginning to run out of
fresh fruits and vegetables as the Winter dragged on, and the food had been
less tasty recently.

“
No, no, it
’
s fine, I suppose. All
this rain has me a bit out of sorts.
”
Paedris looked out the window and shivered. The sky had been dropping a sloppy
mix of snow and rain for the last two weeks, and everyone in the castle was
heartily sick of it.
“
Somedays,
I very much miss my homeland, it
’
s
warmer than here in the winter. Although, of course, that means it can be
uncomfortably hot in the summer time.
”
Paedris picked up a crust of bread and chewed it slowly.
“
And food there is better.
All the cooks here know is this,
”
Paedris made a sour face as he dipped a crust of bread into the gravy, then
pushed his plate aside,
“
bland
food of the north.
”

“
Can I get you anything
else, sir?
”

“
No, no, Koren, I
’
m just an old man thinking
wistfully about the past. And waiting for this dreary winter to end. It seems
like this winter will never end. Like the war, I
’
m afraid.
”

“
Will the war end soon,
sir?
”

“
What? This war has been
going on for-
”
Paedris looked at Koren sharply.
“
Come
here, sit down. We haven
’
t
talked about the war, now is a good time. What do you know of our enemy?
”

“
Uh.
”
Koren thought about the
stories he
’
d
heard, likely mostly lies and exaggerations. People told children stories about
Acedor to scare them.

“
Let me guess,
”
Paedris said with a dry
humor,
“
you
heard that if you were bad, Draylock would come on his terrible dragon, and
take you away?
”

“
Yes, sir, something like
that.
”

“
Lord Draylock is a wizard
named Mertis, he is a younger son of Duke Draylock of Savane province, in
Acedor. Twin son, his brother was born a few minutes earlier, and so Mertis
felt he had been cheated of his inheritance. Even though Mertis soon showed he
had the power of a wizard, still he resented his brother, who would become
Duke. Mertis grew jealous of other wizards in the court of Acedor, and went
away for many years, it was later learned he had been studying dark magic. When
he returned, he clouded the mind of the king, whispering of secret enemies, and
under his spell, the king grew feeble and paranoid, he would not listen to the
Wizards
’
Council. Mertis arranged to become the king
’
s chancellor, then he became the real power
in Acedor. He made plans to conquer other lands, but the Wizards
’
Council and several of
the dukes had grown fearful of Mertis, and rebelled. The war was terrible,
wizard against wizard, province against province. And brother against brother,
for Mertis
’
own brother, by then the Duke of Draylock, had joined the rebellion.
”

“
Why didn
’
t all the Dukes rebel?
”

“
Because Mertis had cast
spells on many of the dukes, so they were slaves to his will, but they didn
’
t realize they were
slaves. That is the cleverness of such an evil spell,
”
Paedris spat out the
words as if they made a sour taste in his mouth,
“
it makes the victims believe they are doing
what they wanted in the first place. They actually believed Mertis was
protecting the rightful king, and that Mertis
’
brother was conspiring against Acedor. In
the battle, Mertis killed his elder brother, and declared himself Lord
Draylock. After he captured Savane province and subdued his brother
’
s remaining army, he
turned and struck at his enemies, who had seized the royal castle, with the
last of the Wizards
’
Council. They had hoped to restore the king to health and break the spell, but
Mertis was too clever for them. When they tried to break the spell, the king
died, and they lost all hope. Most of the wizards stayed behind to fight
Mertis, while the rebel army retreated to the east beyond the border of Acedor,
carrying the Cornerstone with them. Those rebels founded Tarador, and continued
their fight to this day. Mertis let them go, for he had much to do to
consolidate his control, and fighting the Wizards
’
Council drained his strength for many years.
”

“
He defeated the Wizards
’
Council by himself? Dark
magic is more powerful than good magic?
”

“
No!
”
Paedris almost shouted
the answer. The power of dark magic was a subject that angered Paedris.
“
No, quite the opposite,
Koren. Tell me, does it take more effort to plow a field, plant seeds and raise
a field of corn, or to burn that field?
”

  Koren
thought for a moment, sure this must be a trick question.
“
To burn a field takes no
effort,
”
he
answered slowly,
“
once
you get a fire started. Corn plants won
’
t
burn much if they're green, they need to be-
“

“
Yes, yes. My point is, it
is so much easier to destroy, than to build. Dark magic is used only to
destroy, it cannot
create
anything, it lack the strength to create, or
to heal, or to build. Mertis didn
’
t
defeat the Wizards
’
Council by himself, he had an army behind him, and enough soldiers with swords,
spears and arrows can overwhelm any wizard. And Mertis didn
’
t care how many soldier
’
s lives he wasted to
destroy the Wizards
’
Council, while the other wizards wanted as little blood shed as possible.
Remember this, Koren, if you are ever faced with the enemy; know that many of
their officers are under spells, and their will is not their own. They are
slaves to Mertis, you should not hate them, you should pity them. The human
soldiers of Acedor have their minds poisoned against us since the day they are
born, they know only hatred, cruelty and fear. And the orcs, well, they needed
no magical spells to join forces with Mertis.
”

“
This Mertis is Draylock?
And he
’
s real?
”
Koren had always thought
it was only a story, that there was no real Draylock.
“
Not the
same
Lord
Draylock, he can't be, can he? Didn
’
t
this all happen a very long time ago?
”

The wizard
looked out the window for a long time, lost in thought. When he spoke, his
voice was low and sounded as if he were far away.
“
The same. Mertis seized
power in Acedor almost one thousand, seven hundred years ago now. And he is
still alive, his body a mere husk by now, his life sustained through the power
of dark magic, draining the life from young slaves, killing them to keep
himself attached to this world by a thin cord. By now, there is nothing left of
Mertis the man, for one of the great dangers of using dark magic is that the
demons of the spirit world cannot be controlled for long. When Mertis chose to
use dark magic, without knowing the risks, he himself became slave to a demon
of the underworld. He cracked open a sliver of a gate, through which demons are
trying to enter our world. That is what I fight against. If Tarador is
defeated, the demons will grow so strong, they will tear asunder the borders
between the spirit world and our world, and our world will descend into
darkness, forever."

The next day,
Koren went to the stables to feed, exercise and brush Thunderbolt. For much of
the morning, he walked around in a daze, for he had slept hardly at all, his
mind filled with thoughts of evil wizardry and demons. As he filled
Thunderbolt's feed bucket from the oats bin, he asked the stable master
“
Sir? Do you think horses
get tired of eating the same food, every day?
”

“
Huh?
”
The man asked, looking up
from his account books.
“
They
’
re horses. Why? Is
Thunderbolt off his feed?
”
The stable master did not want to hear of any problems with Koren
’
s horse; that devil beast had
made his life difficult every day from its birth until Koren came into the
stables.

“
No, no, he eats fine, sir.
It
’
s, he likes
it when I bring him carrots, and apples, but mostly he eats these oats, and
hay. It
’
s not
very tasty.
”

“
Tasty? What? Koren, what
’
s this about?
”
The stable master put
aside the account book and rose from the cubbyhole he used as an office.

“
It
’
s nothing, Paedris just
said last night that he is tired of eating bland food. He meant, our food, here
in Tarador.
”

“
Oh, is that all?
”
The stable master cuffed
Koren on the shoulder.
“
You
should talk to Martel, you know Martel?
”

“
Yes, why Martel?
”
Martel was a friendly
stable hand, a man with glossy dark hair and a full mustache he seemed to be
proud of.

The stable
master shrugged.
“
Martel
is from Estada, like Paedris.
”

Koren blinked.
“
I thought he
was from Stade.
”
He pronounced the word
‘
shtade
’
in the Taradoran accent.

“
Ha ha.
”
The stable master
chuckled.
“
Stade
is what we in Tarador call Martel
’
s
homeland.
They
call it Estada.
”

Koren found
Martel unloading bales of hay from a wagon, and pitched in to help.
“
Martel? You
’
re from Estada, right?
Paedris told me last night that he misses the food from your land.
”

Martel
grunted.
“
The
food here is what we feed to babies in Estada, it has no flavor. My wife, ah!
She came here with me, she can cook real food! You should come to dinner at my
house, I will show you what good food tastes like.
”

The dreary
winter dragged on, and nothing much of importance happened around the castle.
Koren was pleased to see that, compared to winters in Crebbs Ford, the season
in Tarador
’
s
capital city was milder. Milder did not mean it was warm, in fact, having more
rain than snow seemed to make the air more damp, and the cold seeped into
Koren's clothes, somedays worse than any cold he'd known in snowy Winterthur
province. The cold dampness saturated the gray stones of the wizard's tower;
Koren had to keep fires roaring in the stoves on both the floors of both the
wizard's living and sleeping quarters, and the laboratory where he spent most
of his time. The floor where Koren slept had no nice iron stove, just a small
fireplace that seemed to let most of the heat go up the chimney. His little
room was just warm enough in the evenings, but by the time he woke up in the mornings,
he hated to crawl out from under the heavy pile of blankets of his bed.
Fortunately, as a boy growing up in Winterthur, he had learned a few tricks to
deal with cold mornings. When he went to bed, he rolled up clothes for morning
and tucked them in next to him, so they would be warm when he put them on. And
he had a small iron sort of basket that would hold hot coals overnight, usually
there were one or two coals still glowing a dull orange in the morning, which
he could use to get a fire started. His routine was to get dressed while still
under the blankets, then wrap himself in a blanket and scurry across the floor
to get a fire started. Once flames were flickering in the fireplace, he ducked
back in bed for a quarter of an hour, while the fire raised the temperature of
the  room to a tolerable level. After that, he went up the stairs to stoke
the fires in the stoves for the wizard, put water on for coffee, and went
across the courtyard to fetch breakfast from the royal kitchens. The cooks there
always had a covered tray ready for the wizard, while Koren could usually count
on a bowl of porridge and maybe a buttered roll. Sometimes there was also an
egg, or a piece of fruit for Koren, and he was always sure to thank the cooks
for that. It still seemed like a bit of a miracle to Koren, how he got food at
the castle. To get milk, he did not need to lead a cow into a barn, and get a
pitcher, which he had first scrubbed clean and rinsed with boiling water, and
sit next to the cow milking it. Instead, the royal kitchens had milk in cooled
ceramic jugs. For butter, he did not have to skim the cream off the top of a
pitcher, and spend what seemed like forever plunging a churn up and down to
make butter, here it was ready in earthen crocks. Even his simple morning
porridge was not oats he had gathered from a field during harvest season, the
oats here were in big wooden bins. He didn't even have to start a fire, and
cook the porridge by himself, the royal cooks did that for him, all he needed
to do was bring a bowl for the cooks to ladle fresh steaming hot porridge into.
And then they spooned fresh cream on top, and a couple cubes of maple sugar!
Koren thought he was in heaven his first week living in the castle.