Bound to Survive (The Magic Within Book 1) (18 page)

Devon stood and appraised his son. His clothes were dirty, wrinkled and his hair was a mess. Devon was appalled. On this, the day of his wife’s funeral, his son shamed him.

‘I’ll speak with you later, Gerard, but for now go to your room, clean yourself and dress yourself as befits your station. I want you ready to leave within the hour!’ Devon slammed the heavy leather cover of the ledger closed and walked out.

Gerard was dressed and ready to leave within the hour. He came downstairs and found his father waited for him in the lounge. Gerard had taken care with the way he dressed and his appearance pacified Devon’s ire. Father and son left their home and travelled to the cliff. The coach they rode in had been the same one Gerard had taken into the town. It had been cleaned and washed before it was brought around for the Lord to use. A small convoy of soldiers had been assembled at the front to escort the coach. Devon and Gerard didn’t speak until they reached the cliff where the funeral was to be held.

Gerard felt humbled in his father’s presence and thought about his words before he spoke. ‘I’m sorry that I haven’t been home, father. You know I wouldn’t intentionally be late on a day such as this.’

Devon couldn’t speak to the boy. He was too distressed. His thoughts hadn’t been about the boy’s behaviour upon the ride, but of his beloved wife. Devon descended from the coach and waited for Gerard.

‘Later this afternoon, Gerard,’ he said, ‘I wish to speak with you, but for now I can only think of your mother.’ Gerard understood his father’s turmoil and remained silent as he followed him to the funeral pyre.

The High Priest from the town had travelled to pay homage to his Lord’s wife. He stood before the pyre and read the sacred scriptures so her body would be protected and travel safely on to the next world to be reunited with her soul. Devon and Gerard stood together as they listened to his words.

Everyone gathered and payed homage for her safe journey. Devon and Gerard each took a torch and set fire to the pyre on both sides. The fire licked at the dry wood and as the cleansing flames touched each dry branch in turn the pyre slowly roared to life. Husband and son stood together and as the heat from the inferno scorched their faces they remembered the woman as they watched her body burn.

Later, when the ashes were cold, Devon’s men collected them from the site and waited there until their Lord returned. He stood defiant against the wind gusts as they buffeted his back to witness his men scattered his beloveds ashes over the side of the cliff. Lifted by the cool drafts he watched as her ashes soared over the ocean. The ritual was complete. His wife would now be whole again and wait on the other side for him to join her.

That afternoon Devon requested Gerard meet him in his study after the evening meal. Devon’s thoughts were of his son and his future rule over Reist. As Gerard entered the study, the flicker of the lanterns cast a warm glow over the room. He saw his father seated next to the fireplace in an old comfortable chair and he took a seat opposite him.

‘Father,’ Gerard said as he sat down. ‘You wished to speak with me.’ He wasn’t sure how his father would react to his disappearance but he noticed upon his father’s face a sadness that he, too, felt in his heart.

‘Gerard, I found the letter from the Hierarch in your room. I’m disheartened with the choices you have made of late.’ Devon sighed and continued on. ‘Son, I saw something special in you and this is why I wanted you to go to the Keep. To gain the wisdom to help you rule the people with their best interests at heart. I want you to have the knowledge and wisdom to be able to maintain the respect of the kingdoms that surround us. Our job is to help and guide the people. I can only assume by your behaviour here that you constantly stay out until all hours of the night. The people of Reist don’t provide you with the life of luxury for free, Gerard. For all that we do and all that we have, there is a price to pay and that price is service to the people of the realm.’

Gerard stared at his father and his thoughts returned to his studies at the Keep. ‘Father I don’t find the lessons they teach at the Keep to be of that much help. Why should I learn which season is the best to plant crops in? The magic that they hold could do so much more for our people. I don’t understand why you want me to continue with my studies on how to make these balms. I’m sure we’ve people here for that.’

‘Well tell me, Gerard, who will teach them this. How will they know what herbs or plants to choose when they make a tonic? Our task is not only to share our knowledge but also to guide those around us to help others. I want you to return to the Keep and finish your studies.’ Devon became annoyed with his son’s ignorance. It was obvious he’d no idea of his responsibilities to the people.

‘But father—’

‘You’ll return to the Keep and you’ll study hard and I expect to hear of great improvement. You’ll then be able to return and be the great ruler that I’ve envisaged! Maybe if we’d someone with this knowledge in our realm, your mother wouldn’t have died. She could’ve been saved. Now go and pack your bags. I’ve no time for your silly ideas for only magic. Both belong together and if you’d studied harder maybe you could’ve been more help to your mother!’

Devons words struck Gerard like a blow and they forced a wedge deep in his heart. He winced as each word pounded the wedge deeper until it was all he could feel. Gerard shot up from the chair and left the room.

He’d pack and return to the Keep.

A week later, Gerard had thrown himself into his studies. He spent long hours with his books in the hope he’d make amends. Most days and nights Gerard read and mixed lotions and brews. But the end result was always the same. The potions weren’t how they should’ve been. He went over his lessons and books but it was no use. He couldn’t replicate the samples he used for comparison. He was lost and he fell into despair and slipped back into his old habits. He ventured back into the village to soothe his pain and sought out the brothel where Jaqulin lived and worked.

As he lay in Jaqulin’s arms he told her all that had happened since she’d last seen him. Jaqulin had been pleased to see Gerard again and had accepted him back into her life the moment he’d walked through the door. He told her of his mother’s death and of the way his father had berated him and sent him back to the Keep. He told her how he’d studied day and night and still his magic had failed him. He’d lost his Wizard’s essence. The potions weren’t as they should’ve been. He could no longer fuse the elements together, no matter how hard he tried.

‘What am I to do, Jaqulin?’ He sobbed as she held him close. ‘If I can’t prove myself to the Hierarch, he’s sure to send me away and I’ll no longer be able to see you. My father will never let me reign. What’ll become of me?’

Gerard rose from her bed and filled his glass. Yet again the warm liquid slid down his throat and soothed his fears.

‘Gerard, I’ve a book that was left with my mother, but the man never returned to claim it,’ Jaqulin said.

‘What do I want with another book?’ Gerard spat the words.

She was taken back by his tone and said with despair, ‘Gerard, why do you speak to me so? I think only of you, darling. It’s a book of magic and I thought it might help you. I can’t understand it, but I thought you could take a look at it.’

Jaqulin opened her wooden chest and removed the book. It was wrapped in a silk cloth to keep the pages safe. She handed the book to Gerard and watched his face to see his reaction. Gerard unwrapped the material and held the book. The cover was old and tattered. Its leather had worn over time by the many hands that previously held it. Gerard read the inscription inside the cover.

To Jork,

Keep this book with you always and study the words held within carefully. Once you delve into the Arts there will be no turning back.

Come to the Art with your mind, body and spirit. To fulfil your destiny you must start anew.

Your mentor, Isham.

The inscription seemed as if it was written from a teacher to a student and gave forewarning of the words the book held. Gerard had never seen a book quite like this before. He sat on the edge of the bed and began to read. Gerard felt a connection with the words immediately and its pages made complete sense to him. The spells written seemed to levitate and envelope him.

‘Gerard, what does the book say?’

He was amazed. ‘I’ve never seen a book like this before, Jaqulin. This is what I need to master my Wizard’s essence. It tells me how to not only master my magic, but how to multiply it.’ Gerard couldn’t believe his luck. It was the answer to his prayers and now he could fulfil his destiny.

Back at the Keep, Gerard studied the book in the privacy of his room. He attended his classes during the day, but spent all his free time involved within the Dark Arts. He could feel his control over his essence grow and would show off his skills to Jaqulin when he went to visit her. Over time he went to see her less as he became absorbed within the pages of the Dark Arts.

Gerard had been in possession of the book for six months when one evening, while enthralled within its pages, he hadn’t noticed the housemaster enter his room. Gerard tried to hide the book under his papers when George appeared to say goodnight. After George had left and Gerard was again alone, he went back to the book. The night drew on and it was well into the wee hours of the morning before he closed it to get some sleep.

Early that morning the Hierarch entered the common room. He knocked on Gerard’s door and waited for him to answer his summons. Gerard had only just woken and he put on his cloak before he answered the door.

‘Hierarch,’ Gerard said, quite surprised to see him at his door.

‘Good morning, Gerard. I’ve come to see you because I’ve been told you have in your possession a book. A book so unusual that George noticed it at once to be a book of the Dark Arts. That kind of literature isn’t allowed here at the Keep. It is to us, a forbidden Art. The Brothers both in classes and in private conversations have told you this many times before. Nothing, Gerard, goes unnoticed here at the Keep. I ask you to hand over the book in question so I may see it for myself.’

Hierarch Jacob stood in the doorway and waited for Gerard to give him the book. Gerard was stunned. He hadn’t thought George had seen the book. There was nothing he could do, and he retrieved it from the top draw of his bedside chest and handed it to the Hierarch.

Hierarch Jacob read the title on the front cover:
Liber Alden
. Translated it read
The Book of Alden
. The Hierarch looked up at Gerard and snapped at him.

‘Where did you get this book?’

Gerard worried and fidgeted before he finally said, ‘I bought it from a trader when he came to the village. It was in the bottom of an old box of odds and ends he carried.’

‘How long have you had this in your possession, Gerard?’

‘Oh, only a couple of weeks. I’d only just begun to look through the book last night. Is there a problem, Hierarch?’

‘This book is from the Old Time, used by the Sorcerers of Alden. They worshiped Zute, the Lord of the Underlands and with his power practised the Dark Arts. Get yourself dressed and come to my study within the hour, Gerard. We need to speak further upon this matter.’ Hierarch Jacob turned and left with the book tucked under his arm and Gerard watched him as he walked away.

As Gerard closed the door to his room, his thoughts raced.
What were they going to do to punish him for his disobedience?
Gerard didn’t care if they kicked him out of the Keep. He just needed that book, the book that Hierarch Jacob now carried with him. All the magic that Gerard ever needed was held within its pages, and he had to get it back.

As Gerard readied himself to see the Hierarch he couldn’t think of anything else except how he was going to get his book. Gerard stood outside the Hierarch’s study and he could hear muffled voices behind the thick oak door. He tried to listen to what those in the room said, but he couldn’t hear through the heavy door no matter how hard he strained.

Within the room three people discussed Gerard’s fate. Hierarch Jacob, Brother Astern and Brother Issac conferred about the issue at hand.

‘Hierarch, how do we deal with this young man? He’s no longer a boy and has obviously chosen his own path away from our teachings,’ Brother Issac said. ‘Furthermore we need to determine how long he’s dabbled in the Dark Arts.’

‘The boy has thrown himself into his studies since his return. Shouldn’t we give him a small amount of leeway? He might be telling the truth,’ the Hierarch said. He fervently wished this was the case, but deep down he knew that once a person delved into the Dark Arts the temptation would be too great to resist. He sighed and asked Brother Astern what he would suggest.

‘Yes, I’ll concede Gerard has applied himself since that time, but he’s shown no improvement in his studies until just recently. Even then there’s something not quite right about his work. I feel the only way to solve this issue is with a Drawing.’ Brother Issac agreed.

‘Very well then,’ the Hierarch said. ‘We’ll speak with the lad on this and then decide. He’s outside the door. Brother Issac please let him in.’

Brother Issac opened the door to Gerard and bid him to enter. As Gerard walked into the Hierarch’s study, his eyes flew to the book that sat on the desk in front of the Hierarch.