The Grim Wanderer (27 page)

‘You see,’ Hirandar nodded, ‘it is far more effective to crumple the
leaves
of Shepherd’s Wort, rather than just burning the roots to a char. It retains far more of their magic.’

The sorcerer nodded, enthralled with the apparently fascinating conversation.

‘Ah ha,’ Hirandar noticed Logan and the other companions, ‘it looks like my friends are ready to go.’ Hirandar smiled at the sorcerer, ‘Farewell kind sir, may we meet again one day.’

‘It was good to meet you, my Lady,’ the sorcerer said. ‘Perhaps... you would like to come dine at my house?’

‘Alas, I must decline,’ Hirandar smiled and bobbed her head. ‘I have many tasks to accomplish before I leave Dolam.’

‘Farewell then,’ the sorcerer said quietly, and Taem saw his glum face as Hirandar left the Emporium, leading the companions back out into Fandivas Street.

‘Hirandar Firefist!’ Someone shouted, as the companions walked away from the Emporium of Magic.

Taem heard Hirandar curse under her breath. The Wizard had forgotten to raise her hood as they left the shop. Hirandar went to pull her grey hood up, but it was too late. Already people had stopped to stare. Taem noticed Logan move away from the other companions and lose himself in the crowd.

A self-important wizard, in his middling years, with brown hair and a permanently raised nose, introduced himself, ‘Fenglas Malahide, Keyholder of The Order at your service, my Lady,’ his crisp, clear voice marked him a wizard of Marnion.

Taem thought Fenglas must have been wealthy; he was wearing voluminous robes of purple and green, and felt gloves of the deepest blue.

‘Cassandra Anjou,’ curtsied a Darnean sorceress who came up from behind Hirandar. She wore a long silver dress and a green cape over her shoulders. A silver chain encircled her neck, with a single sparkling diamond.

‘Voldo Asgarath,’ announced a bald and scowling man. Taem suspected, by his tanned skin and harsh accent, that Voldo was a sorcerer of Shacain. His fingers were covered in rings with colourful precious stones, and he had countless gold chains and bracelets on his arms.

‘Liria Sansyra,’ chirped a plump woman with a wide brimmed hat, a stout woollen dress and jewellery of wood and crystals.

‘Sibrian Lucan,’ an older wizard swept in to shake Hirandar’s hand. Sibrian had a long black beard, streaked with silver and tied with blue ribbons, and purple robes. By his familiar tone, Taem thought him a Wizard of Aritas.

Soon, Hirandar was surrounded by a dozen wizards and other types of adventurers who were keen to meet her. Taem had known Hirandar was renowned, but he had not realised she was
this
famous!

‘Is there a Sceptre Room in Grantle?’ Many were eager to know. It surprised Taem that they did not know. Apparently, only the highest of The Order knew the locations of the secret Sceptre Rooms.

‘Are you on a quest?’ Other wizards asked.

‘Where have you been?’

‘Are you taking apprentices?’

‘Quiet!’ Fenglas Malahide called his fellow wizards to heel. Taem thought there was a brittle edge of command about Fenglas. Fenglas was someone who assumed he was entitled to leadership and respect, rather than having to earn it.

‘Firstly,’ Fenglas said pretentiously, ‘may I say how glad we all are to meet you, mighty Lady Firefist.’

Taem chuckled at Fenglas’s insincerity, and Forgrun snorted with barely contained laughter.

‘Now,’ Fenglas glared at Forgrun, ‘as to the matter of apprenticeship, there are many here – even those who are
already
Keyholders – who would gladly present themselves.’

Taem could hear in Fenglas’s haughty voice that he thought of himself as the most outstanding candidate.

‘Lady Hirandar!’ Someone shouted from outside the group of wizards.

Before Hirandar could answer, a man squeezed inside the middle of the throng and fell flat on his face. Every one of the wizards laughed at this bumbling fool – except Hirandar. The man stumbled up onto his feet. Taem could see this man had a short dark beard, and green eyes that sparkled with a laughter for the simplest of jokes.

‘I am Amos Ballon,’ the Wizard scrabbled to wipe the dust from his clothes and straighten his long, wayward hair. If it had not been for whatever magic ability Amos possessed, he would still have been ploughing his fields somewhere in the back of beyond.

‘Please, my Lady,’ Amos said to Hirandar, ‘please take me as your apprentice.’

Many of the other wizards convulsed with laughter.

‘Amos!’ Fenglas Malahide barked. ‘Get out the way you ignoramus! Can’t you see there are real wizards doing business here?’

‘It is good to see you again, Amos,’ Hirandar said genuinely, ignoring Fenglas.

‘You remember me, Lady?’ Amos’s eyes sparkled with delight.

Hirandar nodded, ‘But what are you doing in Dolam? I told you to go to Marnion, to The Fortress?’

Taem heard the care in Hirandar’s voice, and he knew his teacher liked this Wizard Amos, despite his bunglings.

‘But I hoped you would take me as
your
apprentice?’ Amos’s bushy eyebrows drooped.

‘If I’ve told you all once I’ve told you a thousand times!’ Hirandar glared at them all. ‘I do not take apprentices! I told you to go to The Fortress of Magic,’ Hirandar said to Amos, ‘there you will find someone who will take you.’

‘I went there, Lady,’ Amos stared at the floor, ‘they would not have me.’

Taem felt desperately sorry for Amos. To have to admit that in front of so many people must have been embarrassing.

All the other wizards sniggered at Amos, but soon went silent when they felt the fury emanating from Hirandar.

‘They say I have magic ability,’ Amos said nervously, ‘but I don’t have the “aptitude” – I think that’s what they said – to be a Wizard of The Order.’

‘
Fiddlesticks
!’ Hirandar said angrily.

‘I know I would never be one of The Circle,’ Amos said earnestly, ‘but I could still serve The Sceptre, still help a lot of people.’

Fenglas Malahide and Voldo Asgarath sniggered to each other.

‘Of course you could,’ Hirandar said kindly, as she flashed a thunderous glance at Fenglas. ‘What of the Keeper Of The Keys herself? She will surely take you.’

‘She already has six apprentices,’ Amos sighed. ‘She said she would take me, but custom forbids her to have a seventh. She said maybe in a few years, when one of her apprentices was elevated to the Tower.’

‘And what of the other eight of The Celestial Circle?’ Hirandar asked. ‘The Watcher of The Flames, The Sceptrebearer herself?’

Amos just looked glum. Every wizard there knew, that save from the kind-hearted Keeper Of The Keys, none of the top wizards would take someone of such little potential into The Fortress Of Magic.

‘My Lady, I, a Keyholder,’ Fenglas sneered, ‘wouldn’t have him as
my
apprentice. None of the Celestial Circle would bother wasting themselves on
him
.’

Taem felt anger smoulder up inside of him, as Amos cowered down as if he were a beaten dog. Taem glared at Fenglas. No one deserved to be spoken of like that! Taem clenched his fists, and prepared to launch a flurry of punches.

‘Is that
really
the case?’ Hirandar glowered at Fenglas. ‘Well, if he’s not good enough for you –
Fenglas Malahide! –
perhaps I
will
take him as my apprentice.’

A dozen jaws dropped wide open in disbelief, including Amos’s.

‘Never, in my whole life,’ Hirandar said, ‘did I ever think the day would come, when The Fortress Of Magic would turn away someone with the will to learn. No matter–’

‘But, Lady Hirandar, please,’ Fenglas butted in, ‘there are wizards who are already risen to Keyholders, who would
gladly
serve and learn as your apprentice? But you, most exalted of wizards, why would you choose this soft-headed shepherd as your student?’

It made Taem sick to his stomach to hear Fenglas speak. Baek had to grab Forgrun’s arm, to pull him back from knocking Fenglas out.

‘
Button your mouth Fenglas Malahide
!’ Hirandar roared. ‘
Before I do something we’ll both regret!’

Taem watched in amazement as all the surrounding wizards flinched, and edged away from Hirandar in astonishment and fear. Unbeknown to Taem, and all those who could not hold magic, Hirandar had drawn all the flows, all her power, into herself – as if she were on the brink of unleashing an immense spell.

The startled wizard onlookers had never felt someone draw so much magic. They shivered as they wondered what someone could do with all that power. For a terrifying moment, they must have thought the mighty wizard was about to destroy them. But the wrath of Hirandar passed, and she released the flows she had gathered, allowing them to dissipate into the sky and the earth. The other wizards breathed in relief.

‘Magic is a gift for all,’ Hirandar said softly, ‘not just for those who can wield it, but every person of Hathlore. There are far too many wizards who have grown arrogant and selfish,’ Hirandar gestured her staff at Fenglas, ‘but the ability to draw magic does not make a wizard. Even given The Decline, you here would deny this man his chance? If that is what wizards have become, then I am ashamed to call myself one!’

Taem felt his heart swell with pride at Hirandar’s words. Baek watched on in awe. This was the biggest dressing down that these wizards, these pillars of respectability, had ever experienced in their lives. Taem could see they all looked embarrassed, with red faces and downcast eyes.

‘This wizard here,’ Hirandar pointed her staff at Amos, ‘stands above the rest of you where it really matters: in terms of honesty, humility and hard work. Well, I can tell all you now, he’ll be twice the wizard any of you are!’

Amos’s chest puffed up so much he was about to burst.

‘Now,’ Hirandar glared at the cowed crowd, ‘I am extremely busy, and my apprentice and I must be on our way. Good day.’ Hirandar strode off with Amos following close behind, leaving the huddle of bewildered wizards in their wake.

‘Where are you staying, Amos?’ Hirandar asked as they walked, and the rest of the companions fell in around them.

‘The Gatehouse Inn, my Lady,’ Amos said enthusiastically.

‘Go there and pack your things,’ Hirandar told him. ‘I’ll come and visit you tonight, after supper.’

‘Yes, my Lady,’ Amos disappeared off into the crowd.

Once Amos was out of sight, and well beyond earshot, Forgrun said, ‘Amos, he be a nice lad an’ all, but yhee nay be suggestin’ he come with us ter–’

‘No I am not!’ Hirandar snapped. ‘I’m sure this is not the first or the last time I’ll have to remind you, Forgrun of Ironstone, but some things should not be voiced where the world and his wife can hear them!’

The Rhungar’s enormous shoulders sagged.

‘Next time I need advice about matters of magic,’ Hirandar snarled at the Rhungar, ‘I’ll be sure to consult your expertise!’

Everyone else in the company was wise enough to stay quiet until they got back to the Jester Inn. Taem knew that the Wizard’s stormy moods could lash out like lightning. The only person who could speak up against the Wizard when she was like that was Logan, but the Sodan Master was making sure to keep some distance back from his companions.

On the walk back to The Jester, Taem saw the posters advertising the Festival of Masks, this coming Saturday night.
A festival put on and paid for entirely by the King
. Taem read the bold statement.
The greatest party of the year, everyone wants to be here, so come and join the cheer!
Taem had heard rumours about the Festival of Masks. It was a night when everyone in Dolam went party crazy, and nobles and commoners mixed unknown to each other amongst the revelry. It was infamous, throughout Hathlore, as the most decadent, fun and downright mad festival in the world.

The company got back to The Jester Inn, and sat down in the secret room of The Sceptre, to eat a dinner brought to them by Bessie. Thankfully, by the time they returned to the inn, Hirandar was now back to her cordial self.

‘What do be this?’ Forgrun asked eagerly.

‘Clay pot chicken rice,’ Bessie planted the huge round clay pots on the dining table. ‘A local speciality. The chicken and rice are cooked in herbs and spices, in these closed clay pots, over a roaring oven flame.’

‘Ooooh!’ Forgrun grabbed the serving spoon, reached for his own plate, but hesitated, and picked up Hirandar’s instead.

Hirandar smiled, ‘Thank you, Forgrun. And you have my apologies for snapping at you earlier. My anger should not have been directed at you.’

‘Yhee do be gracious,’ Forgrun knuckled his forehead, ‘an’ wise, an’ mighty, great Wizard. An I be nay worthy.’

It still amazed Taem to hear Forgrun speak like that. Most people who shouted at the Rhungar were likely to get their heads taken off.

‘Now it is I who is not worthy,’ Hirandar took the spoon from Forgrun, and served the Rhungar a massive plate full of chicken rice.