Path of the Magi (Tales of Tiberius) (23 page)

Before he realized it, Tiberius had accomplished the years for his graduate degree, earning a doctorate with honors from the Queen’s College in the capital city of Port Elizabeth.  Nothing much seemed to have changed though.  He spent the summer as usual with Dallen, mastering more spells, more effects, and becoming ever more accomplished.

One day, Singh took him and the carriage out to Novilium.  It was early dawn and they were wading out to a deserted part of the beach.  Singh had requested his help with one of his experiments.  That always made for a lively day. 

“The trick to water breathing isn’t really the breathing; it’s the pressure,” Singh explained.  “Fortunately, we aren’t going terribly deep, only a dozen or so feet under water.”

Following Singh’s lead they both cast a simple breathing spell. From then on it was fairly easy to walk under the surface of the water.  Ti followed Singh out to where some strange contraption had been placed under the surface. 

Singh's device was a series of three small barrels linked together with some copper tubes.  Tiberius guessed it was some type of still.  It looked like the first barrel had a sort of pinwheel drawing water into a horn attached to the first barrel.  Copper wires connected it to the second barrel, which had some type of water vent and then a tube connecting it to the third barrel.  Singh went straight to the third barrel which had a door which opened.  Inside the barrel was a series of trays which were connected to tubes from the second barrel.    

Singh opened the chest, and nodded towards Tiberius.  He held the chest open while Singh carefully emptied the trays into the chest.  Ti wondered why Singh was collecting or distilling sand.  It wasn't always easy to tell what Singh was doing, but he did always have a good reason.  The chest, when filled, was very heavy and Singh and Ti had a time of it walking it back to the surface. 

They made two more trips and then while sitting on the beach, Singh started emptying sand out of the chest and into some small bags he’d brought with him.  He gave a few to Tiberius and he helped fill them.  The sand seemed to dry quickly. 

“What’s this about?  Some sort of advanced centrifuge?  You working on a new way to dry clothes?”  Tiberius asked. 

“Not exactly,”  Singh explained.  “I suppose Dallen told you about the difficulties in turning lead into gold?”

“Yes, possible but not practical.  Too much energy,”  Tiberius said.  “Pity really.  I could use a bit of cash.  My annuity ended with my graduation.”

“Money is a vulgar subject,” Singh agreed, “but a necessary evil, even for a magus at times.  Fact is, I have my eye on a bit of property out in the borderlands, a quiet farm in a not too dangerous area.  Dallen seems to think it will be more suitable for my experiments in the long run than any place near Sherwood City.”

“Yes, well, some of your experiments can be a bit, well, dramatic at times for the neighbors,”  Tiberius replied.

“Hmm.  I suppose he’s right.  Bit of a nuisance moving, but a man does like to have a place of his own.  I’ll miss Mr. Eumaios’ cooking, though.  I’ll have to get a maid.  All that costs money, naturally.”

“Yes, I suppose…”  Tiberius stopped suddenly as he swept the last of the dust into a bag.  He was ready to kick himself for not noticing sooner.  Still, it was wet and dirty, not so obvious at first.  But once it hit you it was as plain as the nose on your face.  The dust was gold.  24 karat gold dust.  They were handling a small fortune between the two of them.

“I had several ideas but I hit upon the idea of seawater extraction of precious metals.  Dallen thought it was a good plan.  I must say it all worked out rather well.  More than enough for me to buy a farm here.  Next batch should make a nice gift for Saint John’s.  Here,”  Singh tossed a heavy sack over to him. 

“I can’t accept this,” Tiberius said looking at the sack in shock. 

“Why on earth not?”  Singh said.  “You’ve earned it.  I needed a bit of help collecting things.  I’ll need a bit more getting it to the bank.  Besides, you’ll need a bit of cash to tide you over till you get set up, now that your annuity has run out.  Far more than enough for my needs here, and we can’t have a magus starving to death now can we?  Come on, I don’t want to leave this lot lying around on the beach.  I’d prefer not to use telekinesis on it either.  Not good to mix spells if you can avoid it.”  With that, Singh lead the way and they headed back to the carriage and Sherwood City. 

Singh’s little project was interesting, but it didn’t alter the restless feeling that was welling up inside Tiberius as he spent the summer practicing his art at Dallen’s home.  Finally Dallen spoke to him one day in late August. 

“You’re feeling a little restless?” Dallen said, putting a finger at once on Ti’s difficulty.

“It does seem to me that I could be doing more than practice at this point,” Tiberius answered.  “I can put twenty shots into a target at need.  I know how to fight demons, werewolves, vampires, skeletons, goblins, brigands, and so on.  Seems that I could be putting these lessons to use.”

“There is but one thing you lack.  You need to practice your artistry,” Dallen said.

“Is that allowed?  I thought we were only doing magic to defend others,”  Tiberius said.

“It isn't enough just to keep using spells that others have created.  You need to experiment, create.  Magic is an art.  Besides, you are borrowing the tools of the carpenter.  Which do you think He prefers?  To see His tools used to cause destruction, or works of art and beauty?”  Dallen said.

“Point taken.  I’m not very artistic though,”  Tiberius protested.

“Oh, nonsense.  You have a gift with elementals, I notice.  You have a creative mind, or you would never have made it this far.  You can dance too.  In many ways, you favor your mother."

Dallen stopped and glanced towards the west.  "We both know the dragon is out there, somewhere.  You've grown very strong, Tiberius, but you can't beat a dragon on raw strength.  No one can.  Fortunately, being a great magi isn’t about raw power.  Being a great magi is about wisdom, knowledge, love, and artistry.  Use them as your levers to unleash the powers of the universe.  It’s what makes you a true knight.  And remember that a true knight will defeat one who is false.”

“So what do you want me to do?”  Tiberius asked. 

“I want you to focus on something other than hammering targets for a change.  I want you to show me you can advance in artistry, not just warcraft.”

Tiberius just shook his head in confusion. 

“The dragon presses on your mind.  Remember my riddle, Tiberius.  To defeat a dragon, answer the question, 'How does a dragon fly?'  When you understand that riddle, no dragon will be able to stop you.  For now, take a walk in the garden.  The dragon isn’t coming today.”

Tiberius did as he was told.  Maybe Dallen was right.  Maybe he had been a little one dimensional in his magic of late.  He did need to branch out some more. 

As he came back to the house, he saw the Okubos had arrived. 

Maci was sitting by the fountain, playing a little tune on her flute.  She was thirteen years old now and looked very cute sitting there in her green Irish dress.  Tiberius smiled at her and she stopped. 

“Sorry, I’m not very good with the flute,” she said.  “Dad says I have to keep practicing, though.  A fighter is not supposed to only know fighting.  He says a true knight studies the arts as well.”

“Apparently he’s right about that,” Tiberius answered.  “Do me a favor and keep playing.  I want to try something.”

“I just know simple beginners’ tunes,” Maci protested.

“That’s ok.  Me too.”

Maci shrugged and raised the flute to her lips again.  She played a simple little waltz.  Tiberius listened for a moment.  Then,  concentrating, he spoke and formed a small earth elemental out of the ground.

“Forma tero vira,” he said.

A crude manlike shape, just about Maci’s size, turned to him.  With another gesture from him, it started tapping its foot to the music.  He turned to the fountain, and from there the waters formed up into another elemental.  It was another small, crude form, but this one was clearly female and moved with a certain grace.  It stepped out of the fountain and came by the earth elemental. 

Maci’s eyes were wide, but she kept playing her little tune.  As she did so, the earth elemental turned and bowed to the water elemental, who curtsied in return.  Then they held out their arms and started to dance in time to Maci’s little tune.

The music stopped suddenly.  Tiberius glanced back at Maci who was frowning at the elementals. 

“What's wrong?” he asked.

“Why do your elementals look so crude?” she said.

“What do you mean?  They're perfectly stable,” Tiberius said. 

“That's just it, you're not having any trouble with the spell.  It's easy for you but they still look thrown together.  Why don't they look like something?  Your toy soldiers always looked great.  You'd borrow Aunt Gretel's paints and fix them up.  Can't you make these look like something?” 

Tiberius stood and frowned at his elementals for a moment.  “I could, but that would waste energy.”

“Don't be stupid, it will strengthen the spell,”  Maci said.

He turned to her.  “Oh?  And since when are you an expert on magic?” 

“I've been spending weekends with Dallen for how long?  I may not know how to do magic, but I know good magic from bad magic and I know when you're doing something wrong,”  Maci countered.  “All the really good magic is good art.  Look at Dallen's birds.”

Tiberius stood thinking.  He hated to admit it but she was right.  That was what Dallen was trying to tell him too.  He had to put more art in his magic, not just make it more efficient.

“Ok, ok.  I can attach a subroutine to the basic spell.  That should give it a more refined appearance and a bit of personality.  You like Roka for a name?”

“Rocky in Esperanto for a rock elemental?  Ok, I guess, not very original.

“Saint Peter was the rock,” he said.

“Cephas?  Petros?  Pete makes him sound too soft like peat moss.  Roka is ok, I guess,”  Maci said. 

“Let's try it again,”  Tiberius waved away the elementals and then took a moment to concentrate. 

“Forma tero vira, bonveno Roka.” 

This time Maci noticed a difference.  A moment after forming, the elemental subtly shifted into a form that looked like a real rock man, with a face that had a bit of character. 

“That's more like it,” she said encouragingly.

“Forma akvo virina, bonveno Murgen,” he said reforming the water elemental.  Now it wasn't a blob of water, but it actually had a shape like a beautiful mermaid.

Ti turned to Maci.  “Ok, let's try it again.  Back to the music.”

Maci started playing again and Tiberius had the elementals start dancing once more.  He could see there was a difference.  The elementals were better formed and more graceful.    

Tiberius gestured again and the fountain began to glow with lights. 

Maci stopped playing a moment.  “Can I have a turn?” 

“Why not?” Tiberius said.  He gestured and the flute began to play on its own.  Then he gestured to the woodpile and a few of the logs suddenly leapt together to form another elemental.  It came and bowed to Maci, who giggled and then gave a deep curtsey in return.  Then they too joined the dance. 

As the dance continued, Dallen came out to watch.  It was a magical sight, seeing the backyard turned into a mystical dance floor.  

“I knew you could do it,”  Dallen said.  “You know, Tiberius, I think it’s time for you to have another teacher.  I’ve nothing more to teach you here.  It’s time you learned from experience.”

“I’m still very much a student, sir,” Tiberius answered.

“And when will you not be?” was Dallen’s reply.  “No, the wise man always keeps learning, Tiberius.  We are students till the day we die and then we become as little children and learn even more.  No, Tiberius, it isn’t time for you to stop learning.  It’s just time for you to change classrooms. 

“I don’t know if you’ve heard, but the secretary of defense has decided to reinforce the province of Vonair.  Another company of Rangers is already on their way to the castle.  Leading the new company is Captain Darras Walker.  He’s a great knight, and other great knights follow him, but he’ll need help against the servants of the enemy.  Advice, council, knowledge of the occult, and maybe a little magic now and then.  That’s why I’m sending you.  There always comes a day when it is time to put lessons to the test.”

“If you think I can be of service, sir,”  Tiberius replied.

“I know you can.”

“Guess I’m going to miss your birthday, Maci.”

“It’s okay.  I’ll join you in a couple of years when I’m finished school,” Maci replied.

“I’ve prepared letters of introduction for you.  I know your annuity from the bank is expired, but the governor of Vonair will take you on as an independent scout.  You’ll receive a salary and a share of prize money from anything you lawfully recover from brigands or trespassers in the region.  How did you propose to get to Vonair?”

“I thought I would just ride out there,” Tiberius answered.

“That might be best.  Give you a chance to see a traveler’s perspective of the region before you are well known.  Still, it won’t do for your luggage.  You should be in Vonair for some time.  We’ll need to send a few chests out for you.  We can send them ahead by boat.  You just pack your bags; I’ll see that they get there.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ll write to stay in touch and make sure your studies are continuing, naturally.  This package contains your letters of introduction and I’ve added a little traveling money.  Won’t do for you to run out of funds before your first pay.  Some of these military outposts can be a little lax when it comes to prompt payment.  I don’t anticipate any trouble, but best to be prepared.  If there are difficulties with that, write to me.  I still have some influence in the government,” Dallen explained.

“Thank you, sir,” Tiberius answered.

“There is one other thing.” Dallen told Tiberius to wait a moment, and a minute later he came back from the house with a package wrapped in brown paper. 

“This is something I’ve been working on for a while.  Sort of a practical graduation gift.  Go on, open it up,”  Dallen said with a smile.    

Tiberius took the package.  It felt maybe the weight of a cloak or a jacket.  He opened the package and saw a curious sort of black glossy fabric.  Or was it a fabric?  He wasn’t quite sure.

“What is it?” he asked.

“A little work of my own.  Armor, befitting a magi, woven by my arts.  Just give it a bit of sunlight now and then and it will take care of itself.  It should take care of you too.  At least till you’ve got your feet on the ground and your own bits of defensive magic firmed up.  Try it on.  It goes on over your regular shirt and pants.”

The armor was a pullover shirt and slacks with a corded tie around the waist.  It was hard to say exactly how it had been made.  It almost felt like there were metal plates inside of it, but Ti wasn’t quite sure.  To wear, it seemed like a comfortable sweater, light and cool in the summer heat, tensing up somehow to be warm in cold weather.  It fit him like a second skin.  There was a detachable hood that was designed to be worn inside of a cloak. 

Touching the armor from the outside felt like a very fine metal chain, or a metal cloth.  It flowed like silk, until you tried punching it.  Then it hardened in an instant and was harder than steel.  It was as if the armor could sense when it was going to be poked and stiffened up in that spot.   A moment later it softened again.  

"It’s self repairing,” Dallen explained.  “At least, within reason.  Just ignore the little metal spiders in the armor.  They keep it clean and in repair.”

Tiberius noted there was a green tunic that fit over the armor.  “What does this do?” he asked.

“Keeps food stains off the armor, mostly.  The little automatons get quite enough to eat as is.  Gives you a chance to display some fashion sense too, and some variety.  I expect where you’re going you’ll wear that armor till you’re sick of looking at it.  You can always buy a new tunic to put over it.  The tunic isn’t magical though, if that is what you are asking.  Oh, there are some pockets too in the usual places, but they aren’t obvious, you see.  I’d keep a wallet outside on your belt and use the armor’s pockets for emergencies.  The armor will withstand a dragon’s fire, at least while the wearer is still alive.  But I shouldn’t touch the armor with your bare skin for a while after a dragon’s been breathing on it.”         

“Thank you, Dallen.  For everything.”

“Don’t thank me yet.  I’m giving you the chance to serve.  You’ll likely be cursing my name soon.  There are great evils at work in Vonair.  The forest presses in on us.  Pressing back won’t be easy.  That armor is just my way of saying that old Dallen isn’t sitting around letting you do all the work while he does nothing.  Now go on and get packed.  Your books have got a boat to catch.”