The Jade Mage: The Becoming: Volume 1 (18 page)

After Tartum drank the concoction, Isidor sat down on the floor next to him and began his lecture.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Isidor hissed.

“I’m sorry, Isidor. I was angry and wanted to make that little bitch pay! She stole all my money! What was I supposed to do!?” Tartum asked. He was becoming irate again.

“How about you don’t lash out, like a spoiled child, everytime something doesn’t go your way? You can’t just kill people because you’re angry at them. There are enough guards in this city that even if you killed fifty of them, there are a hundred more that would fill you so full of bolts, you’d be dead before you hit the ground! Learn to think a few steps ahead of your actions, you stupid bastard! You’re gonna get yourself killed, all because you’re a brat! Stop embarrassing me and start acting your Gods damn age! You’re nineteen! Not eight!” Isidor finished.

Tartum felt very ashamed of himself. Isidor was right. He knew Isidor was right. The problem was, he knew all this before he began casting the spell. He just got so caught up in his anger, it hadn’t mattered.

“I promise to try harder to control my anger, Master. I’m sorry if I embarrassed you. Thank you for stopping me.” Tartum said. He was fully cowed now and even reverted to calling Isidor master again.

Isidor noticed the change in attitude and knew he was sincere. He wanted to hug him and tell him he forgave him. He wanted so badly to forget the past, forget his plan, and go back to the way things were, but he knew he couldn’t. If he gave in now, Tartum would get himself killed before the week was over.

“Well not only did you embarrass me, you could have gotten me killed. And besides, you blind fool, they didn’t steal your coins. I took them off you after we got here. All they got was a purse full of rocks. That’s how oblivious to your surroundings you are, Tartum.” Isidor tossed Tartum’s real coin purse to him. He caught it with disbelief and looked up at Isidor.

“How did?...Thank you Master.” Tartum said. He was completely in awe of his mentor once again.

“Don’t thank me. I’m humiliated to know you right now. Get up. We’re staying at an inn while were here. I’m sick of being in this wagon!” without waiting, Isidor walked outside.

Tartum felt ridiculous. He felt like he was a child again and had just thrown a tantrum that hadn’t worked. He was disgusted with himself and swore he wouldn’t act like that again. He hated that Isidor was upset with him, especially after things were just starting to go back to normal. Putting his pouch of coins back on his belt, Tartum prepared himself to face his friend. He still had alot to learn, and magic wasn’t the only thing Isidor could teach him. Tartum wanted that wisdom!

Taking a deep breath, he walked outside to try his luck at city living once again. With one hand on his purse, and the other holding his staff, he set out to start this new chapter in his life.

CHAPTER 9

Isidor and Tartum made their way through the street. The going wasn’t as bad on foot, mainly because they could move people out of their way by prying through them with their staves. The people were conditioned to get out of the way of people that could bludgeon them. Tartum silently thanked the guards for that. He found it entertaining, how the people of the city would shrink back, almost without noticing, whenever Tartum interjected his staff between himself and them. Isidor noticed the way they were flinching as well.

“I think it would be best if we keep a low profile. Judging by the way these people are reacting, we really don’t want to cause any trouble. No casting! Understood?” Isidor warned.

“Yes, Master” Tartum said. He was enjoying toying with the people too much to give Isidor any argument. The way he figured it, there wouldn’t be much need for magic if a simple stick was all he needed to control the population.

They arrived at the inn and tavern district of the city. There were so many to choose from,Tartum didn’t know where to begin. Isidor told him a man chose an inn based on two things. The quality of the sign and the sounds coming from inside. If the inn’s sign was weathered and poorly kept, the rooms, food, and service were, more than likely, in the same condition. If the sign was in good repair, freshly painted, and well kept, then the owner of the inn probably kept the establishment in good condition as well. An inn keeper with an impressive sign was one that took pride in his job and therefore was worth your coin. Once you found an inn with a good sign, you listened to the people that are inside. If the sounds from the patrons were joyous, if they were singing or laughing, it was a good indication that the Inn was a place you where would enjoy your stay. If there was no laughter, or if the mood seemed sour, it was likely something was wrong, or was about to be wrong, and it was best to find lodging else where.

Isidor wondered if Tartum had paid attention to his lesson, and told him to pick out an Inn for them to stay at. Tartum was honored at the trust his master put in him and was determined to impress him. He wanted desperatly to get back into his good graces. He studied the signs of the inns, as Isidor had instructed him to.

There was the Legless Lady. The sign had a massive crack in the middle of it, and Tartum was shocked it was still in one piece. The sounds coming from inside sounded rough and angry. He decided to avoid the place. The next sign he saw was for an inn named The Four Walls. The sign was in pretty good repair. It was a bit faded due exposure to the sun so Tartum listened to the sounds coming from inside. It sounded like a war was taking place, and just as they reached the entrance, four guards rushed past them and started breaking skulls. Tartum decided to skip this inn as well.

Tartum was beginning to worry. They were nearing the end of the road, and he was going to have to pick an inn soon. Isidor was watching him closely, but his face gave no sign of approval or disappointment. Tartum didn’t expect to get a hint from his friend. That gaze was something he was very accustomed to seeing during the little tests Isidor had given him over the years. He was determined not to fail this one.

He was looking over the few remaining signs, but none of them looked promising. The Jiggly Bear was falling apart. The Moo Cow was coated in mold. The Star looked ok, but there were no sounds coming from inside. Tartum was beginning to think there was no inn worth staying at in the entire city, when he spotted a sign that looked brand new. The sign was simple. It was painted dark green and had a man in the center, leaning against nothing. The painting looked amature at best, but gave the impression of an easy going man who was confident and comfortable in who he was. Under the man was the name of the inn, The Crenshaw. It was an impressive structure. Made almost completely of wood, it towered over the other buildings. There were three stories to the inn, and they all looked to be in good repair. The entire inn was painted with the dark green paint just like the sign, and there was the sound of a flute coming from inside.

“What the hells is a Crenshaw?” Tartum wondered.

Approaching the entrance, Tartum was about to walk in when the door flew open, and a fat, dark skinned, jovial man burst forth grinning warmly. He grabbed up Tartum’s hand and vigourously shook it, like they were old friends. The man was easily three hundred pounds, but his handshake was powerful and firm. The man had the look of someone that had once been a strong man, but through a relaxed lifestyle, the muscle had turned to fat. Much of his strength seemed to have stayed with him, however. Tartum found himself liking the man immediately. His attitude was infectious.

“Welcome to The Crenshaw, good sirs! Glad to have you with us. I’m the owner of this, the finest Inn in Saroth, and will be happy to provide you with anything you need! The name is Crenshaw and yes, I named the Inn after myself. I don’t see any reason to not take as much pride in my inn as I take in myself! If you need anything during your stay, don’t hesistate to call my name!” The man gushed. He was guiding Tartum inside, the entire time he was talking Tartum allowed the man to guide him inside. This wasn’t what he expected, but the man’s charisma had Tartum trusting him completely.

The interior of the Inn was very well kept. The floors were a little sticky, but other than that it was very clean. The serving girls were all beautiful and had friendly smiles on their faces. The people sitting inside were listening to a bard, who played a piercing, but enjoyable, tune on his flute. There was a large fireplace in the center of the room, and the stairs spiraled up around the chimney. The interior was circular in design, and the rooms branched off from the stairwell. The patrons seemed happy and well mannered. There was no laughter or singing, but there was no arguing or fighting either. Tartum felt comfortable here and looked up at his master to seek approval.

“I think the Crenshaw would be the best choice, Isidor.” Tartum said.

Isidor couldn’t help himself and started laughing. “You have very good taste, my boy. The Crenshaw is one of the finest inns in all of Saroth. They are famous for their roasted meats and fine breads. Although, I think it would have been cheaper to get a room in the palace.” Isidor said, laughing the entire time. Leave it to Tartum to pick the most expensive inn in the district.

“Oh well.” Isidor thought. It would be a fitting place to end their relationship.

Walking up to the counter Tartum was standing at, Isidor paid for a room on the third floor. Then he ordered some of the roasted meats and breads to be brought up to their room. There was one more thing Isidor wanted to teach Tartum before he left him.

...

When they got up to the room, it was nicer than Tartum had expected. Two full sized beds were in opposite corners of the spacious room. They each had plush mattresses that he assumed were full of goose down. Two large pillows, that were very plush, adorned the beds. Thick red velvet blankets were neatly tucked around the mattresses, and they looked very inviting. There was only one window in the room, but it took up almost the entire wall. Heavy white drapes were currently blocking out the daylight, but the room was still well lit by the candles that hung in five foot intervals along the walls. When Isidor opened the drapes, the room was flooded with light. It was a beautiful room that overlooked much of the city. The Crenshaw was easily the nicest place he had ever been in his life. If the palace looked better than this room, Tartum couldn’t imagine it.

Flopping himself on the bed closest to the door, Tartum smiled. Leaving Zerous was the best thing that had happened to him in a long time. He had seen mountains that touched the skies! He had seen a lake that was as big as the ocean! He had seen animals that passed a gas so foul it made you beg for mercy, after you could breathe again of course. He was in the greatest city on the continent, and now, he was laying on a bed that even the pickiest of nobles would have killed to rest on. In the company of his greatest friend and dearest mentor, in possession of a staff he loved more than life and feeling in control of his magic, Tartum felt his life was truly coming together. He couldn’t think of anything to make this moment any better than it already was.

Isidor cleared his throat,which pulled Tartum out of his revelry. The sound Isidor made was one Tartum was very familiar with. It meant he was about to teach him a lesson. Whether that lesson was to be one of magic or of life, Tartum didn’t know but he was immediately interested and sat up looking intently at his master.

Once Isidor saw Tartum was paying full attention, he began.

“Now that we are in the city, there are certain things you must know. The first, and most important is this, while casters aren’t rare in the world, we aren’t trusted, and if people find out you
are
a caster, well, at best they will try to use you to further their own pursuits, and at worst they will try to kill you. Some of the more savage races think that if they eat certain parts of us they’ll be imbued with our magic. They DON’T always kill you before they take those parts either.” Isidor said, in a very serious tone.

Tartum tried to swallow, but his mouth was suddenly very dry.

“What parts do they take?” was all Tartum could think to ask.

“Eyes, tongue, fingers, and sometimes...well...” Isidor pointed at Tartum’s crotch.

Tartum’s attempt to swallow this time met with even more failure. He felt hollow inside. The idea of being eaten in order to give his power to someone made his stomach turn. Tartum fought to get control of himself. Summoning his willpower, he forced himself to face the potential problem and to stop being so scared of Isidor’s words. If the world is that savage, then he would just have to become more powerful, so he could change that. With his jaw set and his resolve reaffirmed, he met Isidor’s gaze.

Isidor saw the change in Tartum’s demeanor and the sudden stubborness in his eyes. Isidor felt the same pride swell up in him whenever Tartum rose up to whatever challenge he threw at him. It made leaving him that much harder. By the Gods, he wanted to stay with him. He knew that he couldn’t though. He couldn’t keep guiding him in magic, truth be known, there wasn’t much he felt he could teach Tartum about magic anymore. There was, at least, one more spell he could teach him to keep him safe from the unsavory people of the world.

Isidor smiled his “proud instructor” smile and pulled a scroll out of his pouch. He handed it to Tartum. To his astonishment, Tartum refused to take it. He even shrank away from it slightly.

“I do not want to use scrolls anymore, Master. Not after...not after what happened...not after what I did.” Tartum said, shame flooding his voice.