Path of the Magi (Tales of Tiberius) (7 page)

Chapter III

Omens

A lightning quick stroke lashed out and Tiberius countered with an equally fast parry.  A late summer’s day in S.R. 297 found Tiberius in Mr. Okubo’s backyard keeping up with his quarterstaff work.  Tiberius had progressed enough with his katas that Mr. Okubo was now doing a bit of sparring with him.  This was a lot like sparring with Marcus, in that Tiberius lost all the time.  Still, at least he was losing with more dignity and didn’t get dunked into the creek every time he lost.  He could tell that Mr. Okubo was a lot better at this than his brother had ever been.  He might still be losing, but at least he was learning something.

“Oww!” he said as Mr. Okubo gave him a rap on the foot with his staff.

“Pay attention; don’t let him distract you.”

“Him?” Tiberius said. 

“Gillyian, yes.  Ignore him.  A knight must not be distracted in battle.  There will be many distractions.  A friend dies, a tank appears, a woman watches the battle.  Be aware of your surroundings, but stay focused on the battle you fight.”

“Yes, Sensei.  What’s a tank?”

“Never mind.  It’s an Old World siege engine.  The ban prohibits them here,” he explained, resuming their sparring.

After a time Mr. Okubo called a halt.  “That was better.  You’re making progress.  We will make a proper knight of you yet.”

Tiberius gave a slight bow in acknowledgment.  Then, turning to look over his shoulder, he glanced towards the woods in the distance.  Mr. Okubo’s house was a bit further out than the Fuller residence.  The backyard looked out on some park land, which was handy as a fletcher needed an archery range in his backyard.

“Is it just me, or is that elf starting to crop up more and more?”  Tiberius asked.

Mr. Okubo smiled at him.  “You are making progress with your meditation.  As your mind gains discipline, you become more resistant to the simple glamour spells of the wood folk.  Pastor Adams has started you on the apologetics, hasn’t he?”

“Apologetics?  Oh, you mean Chesterton, George MacDonald, and the like.” 

“The Christian writers, yes.  Your mind gains strength and you see what’s been hidden before,”  Mr. Okubo explained.

“You can see him all the time.  Is he always about?”  Tiberius pondered. 

“He pops in now and then to keep an eye on things.  He’s a spy for the elf king,”  the sensei explained.

“A spy?  Why don’t we arrest him?”  Tiberius asked. 

Mr. Okubo just laughed.  “You’ve much to learn of spycraft, Master Fuller.  If we arrest him, the elf king will think we’re up to something.  Better to let him fall into a routine.  If we decide to do something, we know where he is and we can pull the wool over his eyes.”

“Are we up to something?”  Tiberius asked.

“No, at least nothing the elf king would disapprove of, so let him watch,”  Mr. Okubo said, smiling.  He went over to where his wife and infant daughter had been watching.  He took his daughter into his arms and turned so she could face the elf leaning against a tree in the distance.

“See the nice elf lord, Maci?” he said.  She gave a big smile and waved.  Gillyian smiled and strummed his lyre, but he did not wave back.               

After the lesson Tiberius noted Gillyian was still there camped in the forest.  He made a sudden decision.  Turning to the woods, he boldly walked right up to the elf lord.  Gillyian raised an eyebrow at his approach, but otherwise simply sat by the tree strumming his lyre.

“Why are you always watching me?”  Tiberius said when he was close enough.

Gillyian gave him a quizzical look. 

“What makes you think the Alfara have any interest in a Son of Adam?”

“My dad says that when elves want to lie or not answer a question, they’ll ask another question,” Tiberius said. 

“Your father is a wise man,” Gillyian said, smiling.

“So why are you watching me?  Why is there an elf hiding in the shadows every time I turn around,” Tiberius asked.

“Oh it isn’t so often as that; you aren’t that interesting,” Gillyian replied.

Tiberius just answered with a stare.

At last Gillyian put down the lyre and looked up at Tiberius.  “I suppose as your eyes are opening, I had better give you an answer.  It’s not you, you know; it’s your name.”

“My name?  Fuller?  Is this something to do with my father?”

Gillyian shook his head.  “No.  Our soothsayers foresaw that a great human wizard would be born with the name of Tiberius.  And then a great human hero goes and names his son Tiberius.  Interesting, no?”

Tiberius laughed.  “You’ve got the wrong man.  I won’t have anything to do with the black arts.”

“I said a wizard, not the black arts.   English is such a poor language for discussing what you call magic.  You’ve so few words to master such subtle interactions with the spirit realm,”  Gillyian said, idly strumming a few more notes. 

“I still say you’ve got the wrong man.  I’m confirmed in the Church and a servant of Christ,”  Tiberius protested indignantly.

“Funny, Dallen says that about himself too,” the elf calmly observed.  Tiberius was plainly irritated, but none of it was perturbing the elf in the slightest.  “You could be right, though.  We aren’t sure.  That’s why were keeping an eye out on you.  Just in case you do anything interesting.  But I’ve been watching you for a while and I think it
is
you.  Just looking at you I can see you’ve got a lot of … what’s the human word?  Chi?  Personal energy?  You’ve been well-raised and have wisdom for your age.  That you’re a member of the church and study the ancient truths is in no way against your gaining a greater knowledge of the spirit world.  Then there is the question of how you keep managing to see me.  Most Sons of Adam don’t notice me at all.”

“Mr. Okubo can see you,” Tiberius stated.

“Many people in this world are more than they appear.  By now I think you know Mr. Okubo is more than a quiet country fletcher,”  Gillyian stated.  “His daughter can see me too.  That makes me wonder.  Interesting things happen around you, young Master Fuller, another reason why I think it’s you.  Salina thinks it’s you as well.  She wants to meet you, but she can’t get away, and it isn’t safe for you to go into the forests just yet.  We may be wrong, after all.  It won’t be long, I think, before we know the truth.”

Gillyian got up, stretched, and walked over to his horse.  He took in a breath of air.  It was a bit overcast that day but the air was cool and clean.  Mounting his horse, he tipped his cap to Tiberius.

“I can’t hang about all day.  I have things to do.  Reports to write for my countess.  She’ll like this one.  Meanwhile, Master Tiberius, look for more elves, especially in concert halls and fine purveyors of wines.  You won’t find any there, but if I have to keep following you, you may as well go some place interesting for a change.  It will ease my labors.”  With that, he rode off.

Tiberius just watched him go.  They were watching him because of some crazy prophesy about his name?  His dad was right; the elves were all half mad.  He turned and headed home. 

The lessons continued.  He had a very busy schedule these days:  schoolwork with Mr. Johnson, chores in the print shop, (which were lessons in themselves), math with Mr. Dallen, and more martial training with Mr. Okubo.  Something must have been getting to him, as he found the latest katas Mr. Okubo was trying to teach him impossible.  Michael seemed to sense his frustration. 

“You’re making this too hard,” he said.  “This is simple, just twirling a stick around.  Anyone can do it, even my infant daughter.”

Tiberius just let off a scoff, but Mr. Okubo simply clapped his hands. 

“Look, Maci, you show him, eh?”

Tiberius looked over at Maci and was surprised to see she stood up on command.  Taking up a very small bamboo pole, just the right size for her, Maci did a simple staff move following her father.  Then she gave her father a big smile and a laugh.   

Michael slapped him on the shoulder, “Easy, eh?”

Tiberius just nodded.  He was too astonished to speak.  Maci should barely be walking, but she was already doing quarterstaff moves and doing them pretty well, all things considered. 

The next day he described the scene to Singh and Ian at school before class.  “It was kind of creepy the way she was doing it all so well.  He’s already teaching her how to fight and she learns it all,”  Tiberius explained.

“It’s likely an illusion, at least to a certain extent,” Ian noted.

“Not necessarily,” Singh added.  “The child may be some form of a prodigy after all.  Didn’t you tell me her mother was some sort of acrobat?”

“Yea, Aunt Min was a traveling acrobat with her parents.  That’s how she met Mr. Okubo.  There aren’t a lot of Asians around this country, after all.  I’ve seen her act once or twice.  She’s really good.”

“I wouldn’t think any harm would come from it,” Singh said thoughtfully.  “The child’s not mistreated in any way, is she?”

“Oh no.  She’s just playing with her father.  You never saw three happier people in your life.” 

“I see no cause for alarm.  In point of fact this might be a true opportunity for you to study the complexity of the human mind, Tiberius.  If she is some form of a prodigy, that is a rare gift.  Now, to put her on the spot could be disruptive to the child, but as you’re already treated like family you have the ideal opportunity for observing a rare example of accelerated development.  I would take notes if I were you.” 

“How is your staff work progressing, Ti?” Ian asked. 

“Well enough.  I think I can give my brother a surprise when he gets home, but that depends on how much he’s learning.  He’s in a pike unit, you know.  You ought to give it a try; it’s great exercise.”

“Ah, that word!” Ian said, shaking his head at the thought of having to exercise.  “No, thank you.  I’m not that sort of a magi.  More of a myrrh type I think.”

“Is there more than one sort of magi?”  Tiberius asked.

“Well, we’re all people and a little different.  But it is a bit of a game to call us gold, frankincense, or myrrh magi.  Now Dallen and Singh here, they’re the gold sort, interested in making tangible improvements in peoples lives.  Dallen does all sorts of work on magical thingies, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.  Messura’s a myrrh magus of course.  He heals people.  I think that’s more my line.  Certainly not mathematics.  You seem more the frankincense type, wouldn’t you say, Singh?”

“Yes, I’d say so,” Singh acknowledged.

“I’m not any sort of magi,” Tiberius protested.  “But as you are, maybe you can tell me something.  What the heck are frankincense and myrrh, anyway?”

“They are both a form of dried tree sap,” Singh explained.  “Myrrh is the dried sap of the Commiphora myrrha tree.  It’s a desert plant.  The sap has some medicinal properties.  Frankincense comes from the Boswellia tree.  It’s used as incense, though you can burn myrrh too.  A lot of times they burn the two together as incense.  I assume you know what gold is?”

“A metal commonly used as a form of currency.  Atomic number 79 on the table of the elements.  I’m not as familiar with it as I’d like to be.  I don’t suppose you know how to turn lead into gold?” Tiberius asked.

“Well, yes, actually, but it’s harder to do than you’d think, and not really worth the trouble,”  Singh said. 

Tiberius would have liked to have asked more about that, but just then Dallen came in and the class started. 

The days drifted along.  Before long it was S.R. 298.  Tiberius was 17, progressing though calculus and thinking more of his application to the Military Academy.  He saw Gillyian now and then, but no trouble came of it and Tiberius just decided to let the elves think what they wanted to.  He was surprised, though, when one day in late March while sitting and reading one Sunday afternoon, Gillyian actually approached him.  Tiberius thought he was acting rather oddly.  He seemed nervous, and he kept a cloak over his head, just lowering it long enough for Tiberius to see who he was.

“Can you come to the edge of the woods with me?” he asked.

“Why?” Tiberius asked in return.

“My mistress desires speech with you.  A few words, no more,” he said.  Tiberius answered him with a questioning look.  Gillyian continued.  “I’ve given you little reason to love or trust me, but I’ve done you no harm either.  Neither I nor my mistress wish to harm you, nor carry you away.  My mistress asks only to look upon you for a moment with her own eyes.  Is that a request that a knight can refuse a lady?”

“Since you put it that way, no,” Tiberius said, rising and putting his book away.  “All right, where and when?”

“With me, now, if you are able.  Truth to tell I think this journey neither wise nor safe for my lady, but a woman and master will have her own way.  But come now if you can; if this must be done, ‘tis well if it were done quickly.”

“Lead on, Sir,”  Tiberius said. 

Gillyian turned, and with swift steps moved purposely towards the edge of town.  He paused once or twice, allowing others to pass by before moving forwards.  Other times he moved right in front of people.  What rhyme or reason there was to Gillyian’s stealth, Tiberius didn’t know, but before long they came to the edge of the woods.  A few paces in he saw a dark horse and a cloaked rider.  Tiberius could make out no feature from under the hood and a moment of fear welled within him.  Elves could be dangerous, he knew.  Yet even the worst of them were loathe to break their word, and Gillyian had given his that he would come to no harm. 

“This is the boy?” said a soft whisper from under the hood.  Tiberius thought the voice sounded female, but he couldn’t be sure.  Well, Gillyian said as much.  It was a pleasant voice at any rate.

“It’s the one I watch,” Gillyian answered.  “Whether it is the one you seek, or no, I know not.”

She dismounted in answer and stepped towards Tiberius, her face still hidden by her cloak.  She stopped, studying him from beneath her cloak for a moment.  Then she turned and said something in her own tongue to Gillyian.

“Abba vaster paidir,” it sounded like to Tiberius, though he couldn’t be sure.  Gillyian shrugged his shoulders in response. 

Tiberius felt rather stupid standing there with some strange hooded elf gawking at him.  “You wanted to see me, Lady?” he asked at length. 

In answer she drew back the hood from her face.  Tiberius gasped, as she was incredibly beautiful.  She had a face that he’d only seen in matched in statues and paintings.  She had long dark hair and emerald eyes that sparkled.  He thought for sure she was some sort of princess, certainly she had the jewelry for one.  Some sort of gold headpiece was in her hair. 

“I had to see you,” she said.  “I saw one of the others and since then my heart has had no peace.  That so much should depend on such as him … but you are of another race.”

“I’ve told your friend here that I’m no wizard,” Tiberius protested.

“La!  You are but a boy.  But you are with Dallen; I’m content with that,”  the lady said.

“He’s teaching me math,” Tiberius answered.

“The language of God, yes.  May I see your hand?” she asked, stepping closer and holding out her own palm.   This close to her she smelled of wildflowers and jasmine.  She was disturbingly desirable in a way he couldn’t quantify or explain.  It wasn’t a welcome feeling.  He had a girlfriend and he didn’t trust any elves.  Likely as not this was the effect of some glamour spell. 

Despite his misgivings, Tiberius held out his right hand, but she took his left instead.  Tiberius had had his palm read once before at the county fair, but Salina’s method was somewhat different.  The old crone at the fair had made much of every line of his palm.  Salina glanced at the lines, but turned the hand over, examining the back of his hand as well as the lines of his palm and fingers.  She seemed to care more for the feel of his hand than the lines.  Her skin felt much warmer than the old crone's hands too.  At last she put her other hand on top of his and seemed to breathe a deep sigh of relief. 

“Are you alright, Ma’am?”  Tiberius asked, wondering at her reaction.

She looked up at him and smiled.  “You are a friend and must call me Salina,” she said.

Tiberius nodded.  Then without warning, Salina stepped up and kissed him on the lips.  She was a better kisser than Marybeth, too, though Tiberius was too surprised to enjoy it properly.  Too surprised to answer her even, but Salina could read the shock in his face when she’d finished. 

Gillyian said something sharply in Alfaran that Ti didn't catch, but he didn't sound happy.  Salina started to snap back at him in Alfaran, but then switched to English.

“I looked in his eyes and saw the man,” she said to Gillyian.  “Besides, he's of age.”  Turning back to Tiberius she saw he was looking at her like she had lost her mind.   

“La! He thinks I mean to bewitch him.”  She turned back to face him, “Don’t you find me attractive?”

“I’ve got a girl, ma’am,”  Tiberius stammered.

“What?  So soon?” Salina said, her eyes flashing in surprise.  Or was it jealousy?  Tiberius wondered.  It was an odd reaction for a woman he’d never met before.  She snatched up Ti’s hand again, then just as quickly threw it aside after a quick glance.  “La! But this is a school girl,” she said.  She seemed mollified, but still gave him a cross look for a moment.  Then she seemed to compose herself.  “The fault is mine.  I look too hard at the future and forget to read the signs of your youth.  You are loyal to your love, and I am too early by far.  It will be a long time ere you give me your heart.  Still, we may be friends.”

She held out her hand.  “You’ll forgive me one stolen kiss?”

Tiberius took her hand.  “I’ve no wish but that we be friends, Ma’am.  But I don’t hardly understand anything that you’re saying.”

“I have confused you; I’m sorry.  I'm a little confused myself.  La, I have explained nothing.  I’m a seer among my people.  Sometimes I confuse the future, the present, and the past, even though the future is not yet written.  A name, your name, is known in fairy circles.  It is the name of a great enemy of evil.  To me it is the name of a dear friend and perhaps a lover, one day.  But elves and wizards live a long time.  Our time may come.  Till then, I am content if you will call me friend.  Come call me Salina and give me a sister’s kiss, so I may know I’m forgiven.”

She turned her cheek to him and Ti steeped forward and gave a her a peck on the cheek.  “Friends then, Salina.”