Not sure which is the better legacy, leaving the world with a great wizard or a great chef. It certainly doesn’t lack for shitty food and mediocre magic these days.
Will had to stop for a minute to wipe his eyes. The most the old man had ever said about his food was that it was edible. “I’m on to you now,” he mumbled to himself. Closing the book, he glanced up at his mother, who was still watching him. “I’ll read more next time.” It was getting late and he needed to write his note and return before lights out.
“Read the last entry before you put it away,” advised his mother.
He looked askance at her, but Erisa didn’t say anything. Opening the book again, he leafed to the end but discovered that the last quarter of the book was blank. He turned the pages back until he found the last one with writing on it.
Y771 Geimhreadh, Sauin 5
He’s making progress. Not the fastest I’ve seen, but certainly respectable. Will has a good head on his shoulders. If he can survive the ravages of stupidity that come with youth he’ll be someone worth talking to someday. He’s finished learning the runes, but his form is still rough. There are rumors of war and it seems that Darrow may invade in the spring. I should be able to start the boy on Clerides’, Foundations of Spellcraft, this winter. Just learning the source-link spell would be enough to give him a powerful means of protecting himself should the need arise, especially since his staff-work is still a little clumsy. It won’t help if he meets a skilled mage, but he’s probably more at risk from ordinary soldiers at this point.
His grandfather’s handwriting stopped there. Source-link? Was that the evil green line his grandfather had so often used to paralyze him? He’d witnessed Arrogan using it against soldiers of Darrow right before he died.
Erisa tapped him on the shoulder. When he looked up, Will saw that she was holding a thin book. “I spent a few days looking for it after I read that,” she said. The cover of the book was embossed with dark letters, Foundations of Spellcraft. “You should take it back with you.”
Will shook his head. “I don’t have anywhere to keep it. A book like this could probably get me in a lot of trouble if someone saw it.” He took it from her hands and turned through the first few pages, which seemed to be an overly wordy introduction. Will’s fingers stopped in the middle of the second chapter when he saw a diagram. The title above it read, ‘A Simple Spell for Linking Turyn.’
“Lun, sarcat, kolbet,” said Will, reading to himself. It’s just three runes. The diagram showed them linked in what appeared to be an acute triangle. That was inevitable, of course, if they were drawn in that order and were all created from the caster’s perspective. Arrogan had been insistent that runes should always be drawn in particular directions. He read the paragraph beneath the diagram:
An acceptable spell for beginner instruction, although care should be given to ensure students are not allowed to use it on one another in unsupervised circumstances. The structure is simple and only a small expression of turyn is required to activate. Dismissal occurs with cessation of concentration. Students should be cautioned against separating the target’s will from their source as this is not only painful for the target, but the caster as well, due to the linkage. In extreme cases death can result. In general, the caster must have a far greater discipline of will than the target or the spell will fail.
He shut the book with regret. Will wanted to study it in detail, but there simply wasn’t time. Perhaps on his next free day he could come back. He was fairly confident he could remember enough to try that one spell, however, if he had some time alone. Focusing on the task at hand, he wrote out a letter that he hoped would be sufficient to warn the army of what was happening in Barrowden.
Isabel,
Darrow has moved large numbers of men into Barrowden, which I have seen with my own eyes. I don’t have an accurate count, but their camp is many times the size of this one. I would guess that there are at least several thousand soldiers there. They have also been busy during their occupation of the area, primarily in building a fortified base to operate from and in widening and improving the road that leads to Darrow. I will let you draw your own conclusions on what this means for the spring, but it seems fairly obvious what they plan to do.
Please forgive me for hiding my identity as well as the means with which I obtained this information, but do not discount this letter because of that.
Sincerely,
A friend of Terabinia
With that accomplished he said goodbye to his mother, uncle, and cousin, and set out for Branscombe again.
Chapter 41
Will made it back with half an hour to spare before lights out. Sven was already asleep, snoring loudly, and his nose informed him that the man had had quite a bit to drink. Dave was still awake, though the ex-thief was lying down as well. Dave’s eyes tracked him blearily as Will sat down on his bedroll.
“Where’ve you been?” asked Dave.
“Out and about,” said Will. “I did some hiking.”
Dave stared at him incredulously. “Hiking? You’ve been cooped up in this stupid camp for two months and the first thing you wanted to do was go hiking? Don’t we get enough exercise every damn day?”
“I just wanted to be alone. Being around people all the time feels oppressive,” responded Will, hoping the other man would buy his explanation.
“You missed a good time,” said Dave, smiling with his eyes closed.
Tiny entered then, giving Dave a conspicuous glare as he found his seat. When Dave started to speak again, Tiny growled. “Go to sleep.”
“Fine, fine,” mumbled Dave.
Will raised his brows. “Did you have fun, Tiny?”
The big man shook his head, then pointed first at Dave then Sven. “That one needs a leash, and this one had to be carried.”
“Did you drink any?”
“I don’t drink,” Tiny said flatly.
“Why not?”
“People always want to fight. I have enough trouble already.”
Will had wondered about Tiny’s reluctance to fight before. “Why don’t you like to fight? You seem like you’re built for it.”
Tiny shrugged. “Small men are always looking for someone big to fight, but for me, there’s no winning.”
“Huh?”
“If I fight and win, everyone hates me. ‘Look, the big man is picking on everyone,’ is what they say. If I fight and lose, I’m bruised and humiliated,” said Tiny. “Usually I just refuse to hit back, but then people think I’m dumb.”
Will remembered what had happened with Dave when they were all locked up together, and again during the first few days of their training with the army. He wondered how many times Tiny had been singled out for a fight simply because he was large. It was a perspective he had never considered. “I never thought about it like that.” Remembering the past, he added, “I’m sorry. Because of me, you got dragged into two fights.”
Tiny shrugged. “Don’t apologize. Just think about it. You have a similar problem.”
Frowning, Will asked, “What do you mean? I’m not big, I’m average at best.”
The giant poked his arm. “Not out here.” He shifted his finger and pointed at Will’s chest. “In here. You have a big heart. Too big. It gets you into fights your body isn’t big enough for.”