The First Life of Tanan (6 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

On the morning of Tanan’s eleventh birthday he was greeted at breakfast with gifts from his father and grandfather.

From Anin, he received a new coat, which Tanan tried on immediately.  It was wool lined and had a hood.  The coat was a bit big for him, but he would grow into it.  Anin also gave him a stiff canvas backpack and a set of quills in a polished wooden box with a shiny silver clasp.  His name was carved into the top of the box in intricate and flowery script.  Tanan had never owned a new quill, let alone an entire set.  He had always used old quills that his father or grandfather had handed down to him.  It was a lovely gift.

Lindelin gave him a thick book, bound in deep red leather.  Tanan opened it and discovered it was blank.

“As you learn magic, you’ll eventually want to copy the symbols and chants that you learn into a book of your own,” explained Lindelin.  “Take care of that book and it will last you a lifetime.”

Lindelin also gave him a brand new pair of dark leather boots that fit perfectly and went almost up to his knees.  “I suggest,” said Lindelin, “that you wear those boots for the next couple of days to get them broken in.”

It was the best birthday Tanan had ever had.  He thanked his father and grandfather for the presents and gave them each a hug.

While Anin cooked breakfast, Tanan folded his new coat and put it into his backpack along with his new book and quill set, which fit perfectly into an inner pocket.

•        •        •

After breakfast was finished, Lindelin and Anin went off to work.  Tanan put on his new boots and walked up the hill to the Abbey.  He was eager to have a look at the books of magic in the Abbey library.

He found Sweelin sweeping up in the main hall, so he pitched in and helped the Abbot finish the chore.

Once the sweeping was done, Sweelin and Tanan went into the library.

“The books you’re interested in are in this section,” Sweelin said, gesturing at a particular shelf.  “You may read them, but they must stay in this room.  Do not copy anything from them.”

Tanan was happy to have the opportunity to study.  He looked at the books for a few moments before selecting one at random and carrying it to a large, slightly dusty chair near a window.

The book was about healing magic, which was his grandfather’s specialty.  He read a few pages of magical theory which explained that healing magic was largely based on the practitioner’s ability to harness his own energy, shape it, and then pass it from his own body into another person or even an object.

He’d never really thought about it, but his father used healing magic in his Apothecary, infusing his healing energy into the medicines he made.  His grandfather, on the other hand, used more direct healing methods to compliment his knowledge of medicines and the human body.

Tanan had always privately thought of his grandfather’s magic as more useful than his father’s.  Now he thought the two types of healing magic might be complementary.  Between the two of them, they certainly kept the people of Port Billen healthy and whole.

He returned to the shelf and replaced the book.  The next one he chose had green binding and was titled “Advanced Protective Enchantments.”  He sat back down in his chair and opened the book, flipping to a page in the middle.  The page described a personal protection spell.  There was an intricate, eight sided symbol drawn out under the descriptive text.  Tanan looked at the symbol for several minutes, studying the intricate series of loops and whorls.

Beneath the  symbol were the words of the chant that went with it.  He mouthed the words slowly, the way Soama had taught him the spell in the garden. “Oinducturesee cruestass hindewedee abelenciss reticulagh evalarmat.”

He repeated the words over and over until he had memorized the sounds.  Below the words were musical notations that contained the melody of the chant, but Tanan didn’t understand the notations so he used a melody of his own that seemed to fit the words.

He continued to repeat the words and melody while he studied the symbol.  The lines of the symbol seemed to wriggle on the page.  When he looked directly at the parts he thought were moving, they seemed to be still.  But when he relaxed his vision slightly, the lines crawled on the page.  It was an amazing effect and Tanan wondered how the illusion had been created.

Sweelin was standing in front of Tanan, talking.  Tanan shook his head and snapped out of the haze of his concentration.

“I’m going to have some lunch,” Sweelin was saying.  “Would you care to join me?”

Tanan hadn’t realized what time it was, he’d been studying the symbol in the book for nearly three hours.

He put the book back on the shelf and followed Sweelin to the kitchen where they had cold chicken and spiced potato soup, left over from Sweelin’s dinner the night before.

After lunch, Tanan thanked Sweelin and made plans to come study again the next day.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

It was a beautiful afternoon in Port Billen.  The late summer sun was warm and there was a nice breeze coming off the sea.  The only sounds were the gulls and the ever-present rhythm of sea and its gentle assault on the beach.

Tanan thought he would go down to the docks and spend some time with Jelak, who would almost certainly be on his bench this time of day.  The square was deserted, but he knew Jelak would be along soon enough, so he sat down to wait.

Tanan watched the water slide up the beach only to retreat with a hiss.  As he watched the waves, his mind wandered back to the syllables of the incantation he had been studying.  The rhythm of the incantation played through his mind, and fell into time with the rhythm of the waves that moved up and down the beach.  The minutes slipped past him.

Tanan pictured the eight-sided rune from the book.  He was curious about the illusion of the moving lines, and wondered how lines drawn on a page could play that trick on the eyes.  He would have to ask Sweelin if he knew how that…

A rock slammed into the back of Tanan’s head, jarring him away from his thoughts.  He was suddenly in pain and angry.  Tanan jumped up from the bench and turned just in time to see Grapf hurl another rock, which flew straight at Tanan’s face and struck him above his left eye.  It hurt like hell and sent Tanan into a rage.

Kirkik came around the corner of the butcher’s shop just in time to see Tanan, with blood streaming down his face, scream, “Pig faced bastard!” and charge at Grapf with fists clenched.  Kirkik bolted, intent on stopping the fight.

He reached them just before Tanan got to Grapf, and threw his arm between the boys, sweeping back toward Tanan to gather him up and prevent the impending punch.

The moment Kirkik touched Tanan, there was a deafening boom, like a clap of thunder.  Kirkik was sent tumbling through the air and landed ten feet away, motionless.

Grapf screamed like a startled little girl and ran away from Tanan, tripping over his own feet and then scrambling up to run some more.

The thunderous noise brought people out of the Rusty Hook, shops and homes.  A crowd gathered, fed by more people who came running down the hill.  Nothing draws a crowd like a crowd.

Tanan was stunned.  He stood staring at Kirkik’s body.  Lindelin arrived, and pushed through the crowd to where the Constable lay, and placed his fingers on the man’s neck.

“What happened here?” asked Lindelin.  His tone left no room for anything other than an immediate answer.  The crowd of faces turned toward Tanan, who was still staring at Kirkik with a stunned expression on his face.

Lindelin went to Tanan, taking him by the shoulders and giving him a gentle shake.  “What happened, Tanan?”

Tanan could barely whisper, “I don’t… did I… is he… dead?” His eyes were filling with large tears that began to stream down his cheeks.

Lindelin left Tanan and returned to the dead Constable.  He closed his eyes and began to chant.  His lips moved, but he made no sound.  After half a minute he laid his hands on Kirkik’s body and held them for a moment, his lips still moving.

Lindelin bowed his head.  When he turned to look at Tanan, he looked as if he had aged ten years.  His face was ashen and he looked tired.  There was sadness in his eyes.

“Go home right now,” he said to Tanan.  Then, he turned to the crowd, focusing on no one in particular, “Someone go find Jelak.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Jelak arrived a few minutes later carrying his butterfly net, took stock of the situation, and dispersed the crowd.  Nobody argued, but every window around the square with a view of the scene was soon filled with curious faces.

Lindelin and Jelak stood over the body.

“I think Tanan did this,” said Lindelin.  He was tired, and sat down on Jelak’s bench.

Jelak looked at Kirkik’s body.  “How could Tanan have killed a full grown man?” he asked.  “There’s not a mark on the body.”

“I told you that we were planning to send him off to study with Soama, but I had no idea his magical ability was this strong.” 

He looked from the body up to Jelak, “I didn’t see what happened, but I saw his face afterward.  This was an accident.”

Jelak joined Lindelin on the bench.  The two sat quietly for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts.

Finally, Jelak turned to Lindelin.  “Did you know that Kirkik was the younger brother of King Dannap?”

Lindelin shook his head, his heart sinking.

“This isn’t going to end well,” said Jelak.

Lindelin nodded, and then put his hands on his knees and stood up.  “We were planning to leave Port Billen.  I think we’ll have to go sooner rather than later.”

Jelak looked up at his friend.  “Get Tanan out of the village now, Lindelin.  The King’s Legion will track him down.  I won’t be able to stop them, but maybe I can slow them down.”

Lindelin squeezed Jelak’s shoulder as he walked past.  “Thank you, my friend.”

•        •        •

Anin saw the commotion from his Apothecary.  When he heard that Tanan had been involved, he closed the Apothecary and went home.  Tanan was nearly hysterical with grief over what had happened.

When Lindelin arrived, he made Tanan tell them what had happened.  After a few follow up questions about his morning’s studies at the Abbey, it made sense.

“Tanan,” said Lindelin, “you didn’t know.  Nobody could have known that you would be able to work that kind of powerful magic.  This was just a terrible accident.”

Lindelin and Anin went into the next room and spoke quietly.  Anin started packing bags while Lindelin went to talk to Tanan again.

“Tanan,” he began. “I’ve always been proud of you. What happened today doesn’t change that.  Even though it was an accident, some people won’t see it that way.”  He paused for a moment, not wanting to say what he had to say next.  He touched Tanan’s chin and tilted the boy’s head up until they were looking at each other.

“Your father brought you from the main land when you were an infant.  Your mother and father were Lataki.”

Tanan felt sick.  He had always been told he was from Istra, but his mother wasn’t able to take care of him so Soama had brought him to Port Billen where Anin and Lindelin had adopted him.  Like every child in Komisan, he grew up fearing the Lataki, hearing stories about how the Lataki would come and kill everyone if they ever found out about the Komisani.  How could he be a Lataki?

“Son,” Lindelin continued, “I’m sorry you have to find out today, like this.  There are going to be men, soldiers, who will come…”

Tanan was crying.

“Your father is going to take you out of Port Billen and you can’t ever come back.”

Tanan threw himself at Lindelin, burying his face in the  the old man’s chest and sobbing.  “I’m sorry.  I’m sorry.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Tanan followed his father up the road with his chin in his chest.  He was miserable.  He just wished he could disappear.  Anin left the road and found the trail that led to Soama’s Abbey.

Tanan followed along, silently.  He was in a fog, replaying the incident over and over in his mind.  When Grapf hit him in the head with the rock, things had gone fuzzy.  Tanan could still see the look of amusement on Grapf’s face when he threw the second rock.  He had looked at Tanan as if he were nothing, a plaything that only existed for amusement.

Why had the Constable been killed?  Tanan had been thinking about the protection spell, but that wouldn’t kill someone would it?  His grandfather said it was an accident.

Tanan wished he’d read about the spell before he learned the chant.

They walked through the afternoon and into the night, neither of them speaking until they reached Soama’s Abbey.

“Wait here,” Anin said, putting his hand on Tanan’s chest to make the boy stop.  He went up to the Abbey while Tanan stood waiting in the dark.  Tanan was surprised to find that they were already at the Abbey.

A few minutes later, Anin came back and led Tanan to the building where Soama was waiting.  Soama led Tanan to the room where he had slept during his month long stay, and helped Tanan take off his boots and get into bed.

Tanan was asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.