The Lords of Anavar (14 page)

"Great," said Techna Vole. "I have problems sleeping as it is. This is a big help."

"What are friends for?" asked Cehana sweetly.

"Remember that Gerrand was Macelan's student for many years. Perhaps he was even a servant."

"He never said that."

"No, and would he admit it?" said Tyman Stile. "Who could say otherwise? Cehana's point is very relevant. Is the history taught to our children merely Gerrand's coloring of the past? It is a situation we must confront. He tells us so little. He has always hated me." The last words he spoke to himself but the others heard them and exchanged glances.

Techna Vole walked to the window and watched the supplies brought in from the market and sorted in the courtyard. He sighed. As he chewed his lower lip his teeth pulled off a narrow strip of skin.

"When will we seal the castle?"

"Tomorrow morning," said Tyman Stile. "I want the supplies to be stored and then inventoried. I want to be sure there is enough for a year before the castle is sealed."

"A year? You expect us to remain here a year?"

Tyman Stile shook his head. "You do not like the company? No, I do not envision such a lengthy stay for you, but we shall not be unprepared. The downfall of the Council shall not occur while I am in charge. Never."

The door opened and Alec Endria and Yanor entered. They sat down heavily and leaned back in their chairs. Alec Endria closed his eyes. Yanor's cheeks were red and moisture dripped off his nose.

"Stimulating work?" asked Techna Vole.

Yanor grunted.

"At least you could have kept my son here until after the supplies were purchased," said Alec Endria. "His back is strong and mine wouldn't ache so much."

"I have to admit that it did not occur to me," said Tyman Stile. "Your point is a good one, but we cannot do anything about it now." He grinned at Cehana. His eyes were bright and clear, but she shuddered and turned away.

"I believe you only want to seal the castle so you can torment me," said Alec Endria. "Without any chance for relief."

"Don't hold yourself so high," laughed Tyman Stile. He thought for a moment and his expression darkened. "While I admit, it would be reason enough to seal the castle, the threat of Macelan is very real. Very real. I know Gerrand better than most of you and there was real fear in his voice. Whatever I may think about Gerrand, if he is frightened, then I am too. The power out there is gathering against us and we must be united."

"If what Cehana says is true, the power you speak of may be gathering only against Gerrand," said Techna Vole.

"All the more reason to be safe. We can join the side of the victor."

"Tyman, I do not believe you said that," said Cehana. "I admit I have my doubts concerning Gerrand's motives, but I will not wait for the victor to claim me as spoils of war. If Gerrand has misled us, it is not a cruel and harsh master we return to; however, Macelan has no gentle plans for us."

"I do not understand," said Tyman Stile. "First you put forth the theory that Gerrand taught us history biased by his view of the world and now you say you prefer him to Macelan."

"Better the devil you know," said Yanor.

"Lesser of two evils?" offered Tyman Stile. "I do not believe you people. All evil needs to be eradicated. Do not let any benevolent evil trick you by its relative actions. It can change at any moment. You only know of Macelan from Gerrand's words. How do you know Macelan is evil? Even Gerrand admits the reality of Macelan's genius. Gerrand's view could be tempered by jealousy. I don't say that it is so, but nothing should be overlooked. This is the crux of our lifetimes and no mistake can we afford. Search your conscience and find the true path."

"You should have been a preacher," said Alec Endria. "Fire and brimstone Stile, the scourge of the pulpit."

"Do not mock me, Endria. It will prove fatal."

"Are you threatening me?"

"Do not enter water that is too deep, Endria. You cannot swim the current."

"Now, we are the cryptic seer," said Alec Endria. "Why are you so omnipotent suddenly? What do you know that can be beyond my skill?"

Tyman Stile held back his first retort. A spasm of rage contorted his face and he clenched his teeth. He paused a moment before answering.

"You have always thought too highly of yourself," said Tyman Stile.

"You are always preening yourself, Tyman. Are you so jealous of Gerrand that you will move beyond merely badmouthing him and place undeserved praise upon yourself? 'Water that is too deep', are words that don't belong to you. It sounded like someone put words into your mouth. You haven't been attending dramas again have you?"

Tyman frowned at those words and his eyes hardened.

"We are all together in this," continued Alec Endria. "Don't try to raise yourself above us. It is a reach to place yourself equal to us."

"Watch your step," said Tyman Stile, softly. His voice was lower than normal with crispness to the words. He glared at Endria. Tyman Stile stood up and raised his hand, his mouth working, but no words came out. His face turned bright red and he trembled. For a moment, fear passed over his face but then the eyes hardened again. He rushed out of the room and slammed the door.

"Why do you provoke him?" asked Yanor.

"He deserves it," said Alec Endria. He slapped his palm on the table, disturbing Stile's notes.

"I have to agree," offered Techna Vole. "Tyman's vision has grown limited over the years. He once supported all our works, but now only if our work complements his own."

"Still, we need his knowledge and strength," said Cehana. "I admit I side with Tyman on most things, but this behavior disturbs me greatly. However, we must wait until after all this Macelan business is over before we deal with his idiosyncrasies. Macelan is a greater peril to us. We cannot allow ourselves to be distracted by Tyman or anyone else. I saw the face in the clouds and if that was Macelan as Gerrand says, then there is trouble ahead."

"What did the glimpse tell you?" asked Yanor.

"It was the eyes. They fairly glowed with hatred. What I saw could not be faked. There was thought behind those eyes, cold calculating menace. The power that is coming is so terrible I do not want to think of the consequences if it proves victorious. I saw what happened with the volcano."

They sat in silence sorting the facts out in their own minds. Yanor glanced at his companions.

"Should we tap that keg?"

"For once I agree wholeheartedly," said Alec Endria.

"Sounds good," said Cehana. She opened the door and stumbled. A sudden upward surge in the floor pitched her into the doorframe. Books fell from the shelves. The floor rumbled and roared, a searing wind blasting their senses. A buzzing filled their ears. They stared at each other as the throbbing in their heads subsided and the ache in their teeth passed.

"What is it?" They had all felt the tremor. The floor tile was broken and out of shape. The bookcase tilted yet still pressed against the wall, pushed out by the violence done to the castle stone itself.

"Smell it!!" cried Yanor. "The sulfur smells from the window!"

"Sorcery!"

"We are under attack!" shouted Techna Vole.

"Calm down," said Yanor. "Calm down. Listen to me."

He placed his hands upon his companions and looked deeply into their eyes.

"We are not being attacked. I know the differences in the spells. This spell changed the castle not us. We are safe enough now."

"Well what is it?" asked Alec Endria.

"Tyman. I feel his touch in the spell."

"He doesn't know such sorcery, does he? That's beyond his skill."

The implications sunk into their thoughts and they looked at each other.

"He has hidden his talents. He practiced in secret to challenge Gerrand. He is sealing off the castle right now."

"Now? He can't do that. He needs our help."

"As a Mage he needs our help, but his skill goes far beyond that. There is great power in the air around us. I could not set such a spell as he is weaving. How could he have learned so much?"

"Let's find him," said Cehana. "We must know more about this power. We are prisoners here at his whim. I do not care for such a fate. The petty man."

They followed her out into the courtyard where a pale blue shimmering wall blocked their view of the land beyond the castle. Yanor ran to the wall but could not tell if the magic started at the top of the castle wall or outside it. If it merely started at the top, they could still escape through the castle wall, but Yanor did not hope for Stile to be stupid in that manner. He reached out to touch the wall, but it crackled with power and numbed his hand.

"Fools!!" Tyman Stile's voice filled the courtyard but they could not see him.

"Where is he?"

"I don't know. I can't see him."

"You shall not find me. I am too powerful for you. I did not allow Gerrand to restrict my development. There is more than Gerrand's way to knowledge. I am not one of his tools. You are trapped in the castle with me and I shall have your obedience."

"This is great," said Alec Endria.

"He is mad," said Cehana.

"Is it too late to pray for Gerrand to do something with Tyman?" asked Yanor.

"We spent too much time worrying about Gerrand when Tyman was the true threat. We shall learn our lesson well."

"If we survive."

"What can we do?" asked Cehana.

"Nothing now," said Alec Endria. "We must plan. With so much power he would overpower us individually."

They went back indoors and tapped the keg. They did not speak until each was on their second tankard. Yanor stared at the floor, his fingers white from his grip on the tankard. Techna Vole drank with loud slurping noises. Cehana frowned at him and turned away. Alec Endria thought about his son, and where he might be. He knew Gerrand had special plans for Artus, but that did not reassure him. He wanted to talk to Artus face-to-face one last time. It was too late.

"How powerful is Tyman?" asked Cehana. They all turned to Yanor.

"He tapped far more power than I could draw, if that's what you mean. I cannot remove the shield he has put up. Gerrand would be able to, I don't doubt, but how can we send word to him?"

"Is there anything we can do?" asked Techna Vole. "I'd like to begin immediately. We do not know Tyman's plans and the longer we wait the more complete they may become. If he is merely insane, and I don't use the word 'merely' lightly; but if he is insane it is a different matter than if he is under the control of Macelan."

"Macelan?" said Cehana. "I didn't consider that. Do you really think it's possible Yanor?"

"Could be," replied Yanor, slowly. "I do not believe Tyman could have hidden such power from me, and he could not have fooled Gerrand. Gerrand would have told us for our own safety. At least, he would have told Alec, if no one else."

"That is true," said Alec. "He did not say anything to me, nor did he give me any of his vague warnings that he loves so much. This new Tyman must be a recent phenomenon. Gerrand would have noticed it."

"Your words make me worry that if an outside force has affected Tyman then it must have known when Gerrand left the castle."

They sat in silence as the truth of the last statement pounded into their brains.

"My friends," said Yanor. "We are in deep, deep, trouble."

"Any ideas?" asked Cehana.

A rumble from deep within the castle brought them to their feet.

"What was that?"

"We cannot wait! We must try to stop him now!" cried Yanor. He led them to the door but he could not open it.

"Locked!"

"But it locks from the inside. How could it be locked against us?"

A low rumbling chuckle seemed to rise out of the floor all around them. It did not sound like Tyman Stile's laugh. A voice began to speak and it sounded like Tyman Stile's voice, but lacked his inflections.

"Friends," said the voice. "You must realize your solitude is for your benefit. There is a change coming and when it comes, it will wrench the lives from any Mage beyond the barrier. You will survive. Those outside will die. Mages that is. Most of the people without magic may survive, I don't really know."

"Are you Macelan?" asked Cehana. "We know your work here is beyond Tyman."

"Yes, well, Tyman serves his purposes. As to your other question, I don't really know who I am. I know who I was and that should suffice. I shall speak with you anon."

"Macelan? Macelan? Tyman? Petyr Wolk?"

No one answered the hails. Yanor tried the door once more then walked back toward the keg where Alec Endria handed him a freshly drawn tankard.

"Good ale," said Yanor. "It's much better this year."

"Most robust," agreed Techna Vole. "Coats the teeth."

"It's less appealing when you speak of it that way," said Cehana. "I just like the taste and shall drink plenty more this evening."

"What can we do?" asked Techna Vole. "How can we contact Gerrand?"

"Is Gerrand our only hope?" asked Cehana. "I mean, is there not some way we can succor ourselves? This castle is full of artifacts. While Gerrand may not have written down everything he knows, there must be a cache of magic items that would be useful to us."

"Magic tools," mused Yanor. "You must be right. Gerrand's farm is not secure enough to store such things and he is always collecting something new. I remember once he found a ring said to render the wearer invisible. Didn't work most of the time, and the best it could do was blur your shape. If you moved, you would be seen. Gerrand mumbled something about needing to use it properly, but he never said more about it."

"You are right," said Alec Endria. "Many times he had pulled up with a fully laden cart and left without it. Where did he store the freight? In all the years I've lived here I've never seen where he stores his treasures."

"We must search separately," said Yanor. The castle is too large and time too short. If anyone is caught by Tyman they must do their best to distract him as long as you can."

"It might mean our life," said Techna Vole.

"It might," agreed Yanor.

"How to get past the door?" asked Cehana.