“How unusual! I have heard that certain individuals can see the light granted by our Lady, but it is a rare gift. Do you by chance have the sight Master Eldridge?” He was staring at me intently.
Ariadne, Marc’s younger sister spoke then, “Don’t be silly Father, we’ve known Mort for years and he’s never shown any sign of having the sight.” The duchess glared at her daughter for using my nickname at the table.
Marc interrupted, “Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you about it Father Tonnsdale, this past week Mordecai has begun seeing things, like the castle wards.” Nice, he’d managed to tell everyone at the high table. At least he hadn’t mentioned the incident with the horse, but then I rather doubted he’d want his father knowing he had nearly lost his prize brood mare.
“How old are you Mordecai?” the priest asked me.
“Sixteen sir, I turn seventeen later this month.” I answered.
“Peculiar, in most cases the sight manifests itself around age twelve or thirteen at the latest, during the tempestuous period around puberty. It’s fairly rare in itself but of the few dozen cases I’ve heard of none were later than that.”
“I’m sure it’s just a temporary phase Father.” I was beginning to wish I could make myself invisible.
“I doubt that. You might consider a career in the Church. A gift such as yours is highly prized and its use in the service of our Lady is helpful to avoid accusations of witchcraft and sorcery later on.”
The duchess rescued me then, “Let the lad enjoy his dinner Father. You’re frightening him with talk of witchcraft. It is hardly a fit topic for the dinner table.” Lord Thornbear grunted in agreement with her and the dinner conversation gradually turned away from me and onto more comfortable venues.
Things went smoothly after that, dessert was a lemon syllabub, a sweet cream concoction I had never heard of before but of which I heartily approved. When they began to serve the after dinner drinks Marc signaled me quietly that it was time to leave so we made our excuses and rose from the table.
“Mordecai,” the Duke stopped me, “please call on me in the morning. I’d like to discuss some things with you before the guests arrive tomorrow.”
“Of course your grace,” I bowed and kept my features neutral. I managed to get the rest of the way from the great hall without having a heart attack.
“Don’t fret about it Mort, he just wants to make sure everything is clear concerning your identity this week,” my friend reassured me.
“Speak for yourself,” I replied, “he’s not my father, to me he’s the grand and powerful Duke of Lancaster." We made our way to the library.
Chapter 3
Of particular importance to those who work with aythar, is a full understanding of its interactions with human beings. Accordingly several characteristics have been described and named to understand this interaction. The first and most important characteristic is ‘capacitance’, which refers to the amount of aythar present or stored within a given person. The amount is not fixed and varies from moment to moment but never exceeds a certain limit. That limit varies greatly from person to person, but in most humans is quite small. Let me add here that all ‘living’ beings contain some amount of aythar, or else they would be dead, and even corpses contain some amount, although much smaller by many orders of magnitude.
I had been there before, at first when Marc undertook to improve my education. My parents had taught me to read at a young age but the finer arts of geometry and grammar were beyond them. I think he dragged me along at first to provide a distraction from the work his tutor had set for him, but over time it became clear I had a real knack for language and mathematics. Later the Duchess encouraged Marc to invite me since his progress greatly improved when I was involved. As a result I was probably the best educated peasant ever to emerge from Lancaster.
Still the Duke’s library was one of the best in the kingdom, and neither of us really knew the extent and breadth of the volumes it contained. Being young we just started searching titles and hoping to find something relevant. Marc started thumbing through histories hoping to find some mention of past wizards while I wound up getting bogged down in an herbal compendium. I always had a weakness for plants. Eventually I broke away from that and began searching again when Marc called me back.
“Hey Mort I found something!” It turned out to be a history of the university at Albamarl, which was the capital of Lothion. “According to this, the university used to have a college of magic,” he said.
“Is it still there?” I asked.
“No apparently there was a plague and rumors got around that the wizards had something to do with it, the college was destroyed by an angry mob. Looks like most of the faculty were burned at the stake.”
“Why do I want to be a wizard again?”
“Because it’s terribly impressive! There are very few left now, and otherwise how will I ever find a magical counselor when I become duke?” He gave me one of his famously charming grins.
“Your father doesn’t have a ‘magical' counselor” I replied.
“Only because there are none to be found anymore. My grandfather had one though. Oh look here! You aren’t a wizard after all!” That got my attention. “According to this you’re a mage.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Anyone with a moderate amount of latent ability is a mage, a wizard is a mage who’s been educated and learned to harness his powers properly.”
I laughed, “So I’m ignorant! We knew that already.” We skimmed through the rest of the book but as to the fate of the wizards that survived the burning of the college there was nothing to be found.
“Let’s keep looking, I know Vestrius kept some books here somewhere,” Marc said.
“Vestrius?” I asked.
“Grandfather’s pet wizard,” Marc answered.
I made a slow tour of the shelves when I noticed something odd, back near the corner, beside one of the wooden bookcases was a faintly glowing symbol. “Hey come check this out,” I called. Then I reached forward to touch it. A moment later I found myself sitting at a reading table back in the front room of the library. Marc was looking at me oddly.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he said.
“Why?”
Exasperated he went on, “A moment ago you called me over to that side room where the grammars are kept and then you just walked out and sat down over here with nary a word of explanation, that’s what!”
“I did?” Confusion had become my regular companion these past few days.
“The legends of absentminded wizards are becoming truer every day,” he replied. “Come on, let’s see what you forgot, professor dimwit.” We got up and went back into the small side chamber that he said I had called to him from.
Looking around for a few minutes I spotted the glowing rune again, “Hello what’s this?” I reached out to touch it again. A moment later I found myself sitting at the reading table again. Marc was sitting across from me with a bemused expression.
“I’ll start by saying you are never going to cut it as a mage or whatever if you keep touching strange wards,” he said.
“Weren’t we just in here a bit ago?” I queried.
“There’s the great mind I’ve come to respect. Welcome back Mordecai, master of the obvious!” Sarcasm was not one of his more becoming qualities. Now that I think on it, it’s probably not one of mine either. He quickly explained what had happened, so we went back to take another look.
This time I didn’t touch the rune, “Can you see it?” I asked him.
“No.”
“Try touching it and see what happens,” I suggested.
“Not a chance, what if I forgot something important!”
“Like what?”
“Like maybe the first time I lay with a woman!” Marc answered.
“What the heck? When did that happen? You’re not a virgin anymore?” I was stunned.