Nature Mage (41 page)

They passed out of the gates of the college and wound down the broad road that led them through the town to the barracks. In Aemon’s Reach no-one worked on Feast-Day or Rest-Day, but here in the city most of the shops remained open for trade, so the streets were teeming with people. Many folk stopped to stare at the unusual sight of a young man dressed in magician’s robes being drawn in a land-dhow, and Gaspi started to feel like a bit of a spectacle. Trying to ignore the scrutiny of the crowd, he peered around at the shops, until his eyes fell on a most unwelcome sight. Ferast was emerging from an apothecary, his skinny arms bundled with brown paper bags. He blinked in the bright sunlight for a moment, and then his eyes fixed on Gaspi. His mouth began to curl up in its customary sneer, but before that unpleasant expression could fully spread across his sallow face, he caught sight of Emea, and quickly brought his features under control.

Ferast shuffled over to them, careful not to drop or spill his acquisitions. His dark eyes were for Emea alone. “Hello, Emea,” he said. “What are you doing?” he asked, without looking at either of the other two.

“Hi Ferast!” Emea said brightly. “We’re going to the barracks to visit Taurnil for his Nameday.”

“Taurnil?” Ferast responded in a puzzled voice. “Oh yes, the guard,” he added,  in a tone that revealed - at least to Gaspi - that he considered such company beneath him.

“Yes, the guard!” Lydia interjected dismissively. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we need to be getting on.”

Lydia grabbed Emea by the arm and was already moving away, the dhow-driver taking his cue from her and smacking the donkey on the rump. Looking back over her shoulder, Emea called back to Ferast “See you later,” leaving the gangly boy standing bemused in the middle of the street. Gaspi watched Ferast through a gap in the boards of the dhow as they pulled away, and he saw what Emea didn’t. He saw the way Ferast’s hard black eyes narrowed hatefully on Lydia’s back; he saw him angrily flicking his lank, dark hair out of his eyes, spinning on his heel and stalking furiously up the road.

“Lydia!” Emea exclaimed in surprise. “What’s gotten into you?”

“The guard!” Lydia spat in disgust. “I’m sorry Emea but that boy is a nasty piece of work. Did you not hear how he spoke about Taurnil, as if he was nothing?” Gaspi said nothing, highly pleased that someone apart from him could see Ferast for what he was, and hoping that Emmy would listen to her friend, even if she wouldn’t listen to him.

Emea’s face was a mask of confusion. “But all he said was that Taurnil is a guard, which is true.”

“Emea...you are blind about this boy,” Lydia responded firmly. “How long has he been sharing private classes with you, or finding ways to talk to you? He didn’t even remember who Taurnil was for a moment there, as if he doesn’t matter at all. You have mentioned Taurnil, haven‘t you?”

“Of course I have,” Emea answered defensively. Her frown deepened for a moment as she stared into space, and when she next spoke it was more softly: “You might be right, but I just don’t want to give up on him unless I know for certain he‘s as nasty as everyone seems to think he is. I just know there’s a good person in there somewhere.”

Lydia and Gaspi shared a telling glance over Emea’s head. “Never mind,” Lydia said. “Let’s drop it. We don’t want anything to spoil Taurnil’s Nameday, do we?”

Emea smiled, the little wrinkle in the centre of her forehead disappearing. “Okay...let’s forget it,” she said. Gaspi didn’t think Emea would see Ferast for what he was unless he did something truly terrible, something he considered the strange boy entirely capable of if he thought he could get away with it. He just hoped that if that happened, it wouldn’t be something that would hurt Emmy.

Chapter 30

Jonn met them when they reached the barracks. He paid the dhow driver, and helped Gaspi out of the seat. Leaning on his guardian, they walked to the arena where Taurnil was practicing. Taurnil was going through a series of exercises on his own, warming up for practice; but seeing his friends enter, he stopped in surprise.

Lydia and Emea ran onto the arena floor, and engulfed him in two massive hugs.

“Happy Nameday!” they cried exuberantly. An embarrassed but pleased Taurnil let them hug him for a moment, before gently shrugging them off. Gaspi was struck by how big Taurnil was. Months of weapons practice had cut his once sturdy frame into a much more defined shape. His shoulders were enormous, and his arms thicker than Jonn’s by some way. He had continued to shoot up in size too, and was a couple of inches over six foot. He still had the benign, bumbling quality Gaspi loved about him; a sort of childlike simplicity that had nothing to do with a lack of intelligence, but reflected a man who preferred to keep everything in its rightful place. That innocence was now coupled with a kind of manly strength that made it seem robust and well-balanced. He was in every way the opposite of scheming, self-important Ferast.

Jonn helped Gaspi over to Taurnil, where he clapped his friend on the back and wished him a happy Nameday.

“Well, this is a surprise!” Taurnil said with evident pleasure.

“Trask has agreed to give you the day off,” Jonn said, “but I thought perhaps we could start the day with a demonstration of your skills with the staff,” he finished, with a small smile.

“Really?” Taurnil said, looking at his friends confusedly. “You want to watch me and Jonn spar?”

“Yes, they do,” Jonn said as his friends all responded enthusiastically. “Now, why don’t you go over to the rack, and see if you can find a decent weapon?”

Taurnil still looked a little confused, but went over to the rack, where he stopped in his tracks. Among the regular weapons was looked like a staff wrapped in brown paper, with his name written at the top. Picking it up, he turned back to his friends. “But this wasn’t here when I started,” he said.

“Someone must have snuck it in there while you were warming up, eh?” Jonn said by way of explanation. “You’d best open it...don’t you think?”

Taking the gift in both hands, Taurnil peeled off the brown paper at one end, exposing the warm golden glow of the wood and one of the metal caps. Exclaiming breathily, he ripped off the rest of the paper, until he gripped the exposed staff with eager fingers. He looked up at Jonn in disbelief. “It’s beautiful!” he said quietly. He turned it in his hands, running his fingers over the polished surface of the intricately patterned grain. “Beautiful,” he said again. Standing back from the group he span it round his body in the comfortable practice manoeuvre of a skilled fighter. “Perfectly weighted,” he murmured.

“We’ll give it a try in a minute, Taurn,” Jonn said, interrupting the young guard’s reverie, “but you need to know that this staff is not just from me. It’s from Gaspi as well.”

“Really?” Taurnil asked, looking at Gaspi questioningly.

“I, er, altered it a bit,” Gaspi said with a grin. “You know, made it more powerful.”

“You can do that?” Taurnil asked excitedly. “But what does it do?”

“Well, it’ll hit much harder than it should,” Gaspi answered. “But also something else happened that I don’t understand. It might have some hidden powers.”

Understanding dawned in Taurnil’s eyes. “Is this how you got like this?” he asked, indicating Gaspi’s weakened body with a wave of his hand.

“’Fraid so,” Gaspi answered sheepishly.

“Mate...this is an amazing present,” Taurnil said, his eyes shining with excitement and gratitude.

“Come on, then,” Jonn said. “Let’s give it a try.” And with that, he sprang from his seat, and took a staff from the weapons rack. “Just take it easy, okay? We don’t know how effective Gaspi’s spell is yet, and I don’t feel like being brained.”

Taurnil grinned. “Okay, Jonn - I’ll keep it light.”

The two men squared off. The first exchange of blows had Jonn grunting and staggering backwards. He let down his guard, and they stopped fighting. “Can you feel anything different when you hit with it, Taurn?” Jonn asked. “It’s like fighting against an ogre at this end.”

“No, it just feels like normal,” Taurnil said. “I can tell the difference in your reaction, but other than that there’s nothing different.”

“Amazing!” Jonn said. “Let’s try again.” This time he leapt in and attacked Taurnil properly, forcing the young fighter into a defensive stance. “It’s less obvious this way,” Jonn said, talking as he attacked. “It feels like I’m hitting a tree trunk, but there’s nothing coming back at me.”

Jonn span into an aggressive attack, striking hard at Taurnil’s midriff. Flicking the end of Jonn’s staff upwards in a clever defensive move, Taurnil swung back hard in return. Jonn raised his staff to defend against the blow, but as it landed his staff exploded into splinters in his hands. Taurnil only just managed to hold the strike before his staff slammed into Jonn’s chest. Jonn held the broken ends of his staff in astonishment.

“Wow!” Taurnil said, eyeing his golden staff meaningfully.

“I think your enchantment worked, Gaspi,” Jonn said dryly.

Gaspi laughed. “You’re telling me!” he said.

“Let me have a go, Taurn,” Jonn said, holding out his hands.

“Sure,” Taurnil said, handing Jonn the staff, before retrieving another from the rack. The two men squared off once again, circling slowly, until Jonn stepped in with an attack. After several exchanges of blows, Jonn called a stop to it.

“How does it feel, Taurn?” he asked. “You don’t seem to be struggling.”

“Just like normal,” Taurnil answered, looking confused.

Jonn turned to Gaspi. “Is it possible you enchanted it so it only works for Taurnil?” he asked.

“I really don’t know,” Gaspi answered. “Professor Worrick says enchantment is unpredictable, so I guess it’s possible. I was imagining Taurn using it when I cast the enchantment.”

“That’s even better!” Taurnil said, brimming with the kind of focussed excitement he only ever showed about martial matters. “Now it can’t even be used against me if I dropped it.”

Gaspi always got the feeling that when Taurnil talked about fighting he was imagining a battle where he was defending Gaspi and Emea, a battle he truly believed would come to pass. The vision Martha had shared with them before leaving Aemon’s Reach seemed to be much more real for Taurnil than it was for Gaspi, motivating him to work extra hard at his weapons skills in preparation for the day Taurnil was so sure would come. It was a little unnerving at times, but Gaspi supposed it had to be a good thing really. If that day ever came, they’d be well protected by Taurnil, especially now he had a magical weapon.

That wasn’t the only surprise Taurnil had that day. They had lunch at the Rest, during which a boy ran in and whispered in Jonn’s ear, before running off again.

“What’s that all about?” Gaspi asked.

“Never you mind,” Jonn said mysteriously. “But when you’re all finished, let’s head down to the gate.” Emea exchanged a quizzical look with Lydia. Gaspi finished his food impatiently, keen to see what Jonn had in store. The only one not in a rush was Taurnil, who loved his food, and wouldn’t rush it if the building was falling down around him. By the time he was ready Gaspi was tapping his foot impatiently, and even Lydia was fidgeting in her seat.

“At last!” Gaspi said explosively as Taurnil mopped up the last of the juice on his plate with a hunk of bread, and popped it in his mouth.

He looked at Gaspi indignantly. “What?” he said with a mouthful of food. “It’s my Nameday, and you expect me to rush my food?”

“Come on, you big ox,” Lydia said in amusement, standing up and tugging on one of Taurnil’s ham-like hands until he lumbered to his feet, tripping over the table as he followed her out of the room. Gaspi and Emmy exchanged a glance, and burst out laughing as they followed their friends out of the inn.

Jonn wouldn’t give anything away, despite each of them pestering him constantly all the way to the gate. “Wait here, you lot,” he said. “I’ll be right back.” And with that he walked into the gatehouse, leaving them more perplexed than ever. It was only when he emerged with three people in tow - one man and two women - that the realisation hit.

“Ma!” Emea screamed, flinging herself past Gaspi, and running into the arms of her mother.

Taurnil’s mother jogged to her son, pulling her astounded progeny into a warm embrace. Gaspi looked away when he saw a hint of moisture in his friend’s eyes, as he wrapped his big arms round his mother. He was happy for his friend, but didn’t want to intrude in what was a very private moment.

Taurnil’s Da walked over to his wife and son, joining in the embrace briefly, before drawing back. “Let me look at you, son,” Seth said. Taurnil stood away from his mother, both proud and self-conscious as his parents looked him up and down.

“You’re enormous!” his Ma said, and they all laughed.

“Jonn tells us you’re a city guard,” Seth said, with more than a hint of pride.

Taurnil drew himself up straight. “Yep, that’s right,” he said, looking his Da proudly in the eye.

Seth clapped him on the shoulder. “Let’s go somewhere and talk about it,” he said. They had to separate Emmy and her Ma, who were still hugging each other, tears streaming down their faces.

“Come on, ladies,” Jonn said jokingly. “Let’s go and get you a room and then you can go right back to it, okay?”

Emea’s Ma stepped back from her daughter, and glowered at Jonn playfully. “Lead on, sir,” she said, wiping the tears from her face.

Jonn led them straight to the Traveller’s Rest. Emea became all emotional again when the three visitors booked long-term rooms, announcing that they were planning to stay for a month or two. Emmy’s Ma explained that her Da had to stay at home to look after Maria, who was too young to travel, but she and Taurnil’s folks were here for a nice long visit.
The innkeeper led them upstairs, and half an hour later the villagers were settled in their new abode.

Seth had travelled a bit in his time and was happy to settle into a snug with Jonn and chew the fat, but the two women had spent their entire lives in the mountains, and wanted to see the city. As Seth wanted to catch up with Jonn, Gaspi found himself, along with Emmy, in the role of tour guide, showing the ladies the sights of Helioport. They walked along behind him, arm in arm, in open-mouthed amazement, pointing and exclaiming at every last thing. From the clay smoking pots and their snaking pipes to the rounded terracotta dwellings of the outer city, and from the glowing wall encircling the college campus to the enormous tower in its centre, everything was worthy of an “Ooh” or an “Aah!”