The Wizard's Apprentice (The Apprentice) (12 page)

Quietly Uri said; "It will not always be so hard."

Zebulon and Brock had decided to spend the last evening in their room. Tomorrow they would set out on the journey to retrieve the ruby. Earlier they had had a special supper with Uri and his family. Brock felt sad to be leaving. Elvira had shed a few tears and Uri had looked misty eyed. Minerva had given Brock a little gift and told him to come back
and visit.

It had been a busy day as they packed their belongings and made sure they had everything they would need. They had some stout rope because Zebulon said they may need to do some climbing. He had also told Brock he would be doing some swimming to retrieve the ruby. Brock loved to swim. This part of their journey could be fun.

Zebulon seemed distracted as he rehearsed in his mind the course they would take on the morrow. He took the pendant from its pouch and held it before him. He mused about its history as he turned it slightly to observe the changing appearance of the gems. The three black opals showed flashes of iridescence. Their predominant red or blue colouring, their sparkle, and their continual changing colours gave the feeling of fantasy.

His focused changed to contemplate the two rare exquisite pink diamonds. They were small, but in their form they captured purity and strength. They showed a quality of what could be the result for any beings willing to endure the lessons of life. These little stones had crystallised deep within the earth billions of years ago, waiting for violent eruptions to transport the rough exterior rock to the surface. No wonder few survived the journey.

He traced the frame of the pendant with his finger. He wondered at the craftsmanship of the wizard who worked these metals
into an intricate design.
What skill and dedication had gone into it.

Brock had quietly observed Zebulon, trying to read the many expressions passing over his face. Zebulon raised his eyes and looked steadily at him as he placed the pendant in the pouch.

"Will you ever tell me the story of the pendant?" Brock asked quietly.

"What do you want to know?"

"What makes it so special...apart from the precious stones, that is? Who made it, and how did you come to own it?"

"I think you have earned the right to know."

Brock felt a sense of pride swell in his breast. He settled himself comfortably against some big soft cushions, waiting expectantly.

Zebulon took the pendant back out of the pouch and held it up so that Brock had a better view.

"As you can see, the pendant is made up of seven stones enclosed in a silver and gold frame. We have recovered five of the stones. The ruby will be placed here." He indicated with his finger the empty space.

"What goes in the centre?"

"A peridot. It is known as the evening emerald because its colour does not darken at night and is still visible even in dim light. A peridot is always green or yellowy green. The one in this pendant is olive green. It has the power to drive away evil. Its power is even more intense when the stone is set in gold. The gem will lie within the golden hand in the centre.
”

“
How did the pendant get broken?" Seeing Zebulon's dark look, Brock regretted the question. "I'm sorry," he added hastily.

Zebulon leant forward, placing his elbows on his legs and clasped his hands together. He continued. "The pendant, with its magic stones, has been handed down from a long line of wizards until it reached my hands. The first wizards had collected these special stones from various parts of the land. The stones, themselves already possessing special qualities, absorbed the energy from each wizard who owned them. They have become very powerful
”
.

"It was the wizard, Theron, a magnificent and superior magician, versed in working with metals, and having a great comprehension of the quality and strength of gems, who decided to make the valuable gems into a pendant
”.

"He toiled long and hard to find the best position for each stone so that its strength was magnified. When he finished he realised how strong the pendant had become. His concern about the damage that could be done if it fell into the wrong hands caused him to immediately implement a safeguard to prevent its use for evil purposes. He placed an irreversible spell on the pendant to render it useless to anyone who dared to use it wrongly. He also needed to make it so its power was renewed once it came to its rightful owner, or to another who was more worthy
”.

"As Theron's great abilities became common knowledge, he gained enemies. Fearing that his beloved would be at risk, he place a protection spell on the pendant and gave it to her. He still had the use of its energies but now he had confidence that he could keep her safe also."

Zebulon paused. Expressions of shame, anger and sadness passed fleetingly over the fine lines of his features. He did not look at Brock but continued in the telling of his tale.

"And so down through the generations it has come, full of beauty and strength. It would have continued in its purpose had not a moment of uncontrolled passion rendered the pendant asunder, reversing the process as each stone returned to its original resting place. While each stone retained some of its magic, the pendant's power will not be re-established until the pendant is once more complete. Even then its former full capabilities do not return until the offending wizard has made amends for his transgressions, or it passes to another."

It was so quiet in the room that Zebulon thought he had lulled Brock to sleep, but as he glanced up, the elf was looking at him with bright eager eyes. He understood that Brock had many questions to ask but had the sensitivity not to ask.

"I know you have many questions. I will do my best to answer them. Theron understood the frailties of even the most powerful and good wizards. He knew that he needed to provide a tool that would allow the offending magician to locate the stones and restore them to the pendant. You have seen me use the tool. The device is a crystal which fits into the centre of the pendant where the peridot usually rests
”.

"By focusing on the crystal and uttering special words, a deep trance is entered in which the scryer can bring visual images into the mind's eye. This is how I have been able to find each gem. The crystal is unique in that it understands the heart of the user. If one does not have purity, the crystal will not give up its secrets
”.

"What has made it difficult for me is that many generations of man and elf had passed since the first wizards mined for the stones, so changing landscapes distorted their whereabouts. Buildings too, such as at the farm, have been constructed over the original area
”.

"It has been my great sorrow and concern that others could find the stones before me. With the accumulated skills and power of many a wizard, even the individual stones would be a prize worth having for any magic user."

"What would happen if the magician had become so bad he cannot have the pendant any more?"

"It will eventually go to another who is worthy."

"Who gave you the pendant?"

"My teacher, Kareem."

"You are a good wizard, why would the pendant break for you?"

Zebulon looked away, but Brock's eager young eyes maintained an unfaltering gaze.

Zebulon looked back and met Brock's eyes. "Bad temper," he stated simply. "Terrible rage towards the one most precious to me."

Brock shifted uncomfortably. He felt he was in a position he had no right to be, and had asked a question he should not have asked. There was silence.

Zebulon cleared his throat, and when he spoke his voice was deep with emotion.

"The most important thing now is that with your help I will have all the stones and the pendant will be complete."

"Mustafa?"

"He wants the pendant. Being a magician of superior knowledge, he discerned the energy of the pendant was disturbed, that the gems had scatte
red
. He always believed he should have had the pendant given to him so he sees this state of transition as an opportunity to correct the wrong he perceives, and gain ownership."

"Was he your friend once?"

"He was never really my friend. We studied together with Kareem. He was with Kareem before I became his student. He was a bright pupil, very dedicated
and
hard working. Then I came along. I suppose I had much natural ability. By comparison with him I was lazy. Learning was easy for me. In time Mustafa became aggressively competitive. In my youthful ways I didn't give it much thought. I was interested in obtaining knowledge not judging myself against another. This attitude offended him even more. The time came when we were mature magicians. Kareem was old, he felt it time to pass on the pendant. When he chose me, Mustafa became embittered, but even then I did not see him as a threat until I lost the pendant. I have not seen him in a long while, but I feel his magic and know that he has been travelling down a bad path. I felt his presence when Orville came to the farm. It was no accident that the young man came there. Even then, I did not think of a threat to you, only to myself. I'm sorry."

"You could not have known that."

"Yes I should. It was not by chance that Orville met you here in the village. If I had known, I may have saved you some suffering."

"I do not know why I didn't tell you."

"You still had some issues about me. Buried deep within your being you still had fears, doubt and feelings of injustice, rightly and wrongly attributed to me... Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

Zebulon gave him a quizzing look.

"No," Brock repeated firmly. "You have answered many things which had troubled me."

"Then have you anything more to ask?"

"I would like to know more about the individual qualities of each gem."

"Very well then. You know much about the opal already but I can tell you more. The opal is a noble gem, a symbol of hope, happiness and truth. It is a spiritual stone, especially the black one, and has strong mystical power. It works within the pendant to give a kind of invisibility in that others ca
n
not discern your presence. The two opals with the blue colours are special for allowing you to see beyond the immediate physical reality to the wonders within nature and life. 

Brock lay his fingers on the opals which were now encased within the pendant. Once more he felt their energising power and their delight to the beholder as he gazed at the fascinating interplay of colours, visible even in the dim lantern light.

"And the diamonds?"

"This gem possesses the most marvellous virtues. It gives victory to h
e
who possesses it and guards against pestilences and evil. It grows dark in the presence of poison. It can heal in both the physical and mystical sense. It is a symbol of purity and a bringer of treasures of knowledge and virtue. It provides the link for us to the higher mind. Diamond is said to be an amplifier. If the wearer is good, it amplifies their goodness. If the wearer is selfish, egotistical or evil, it will amplify those qualities as well."

"What of the ruby?"

"You should be getting your rest young lad, for tomorrow and the days that follow will test your strength."

"Just a little more. Is the ruby very beautiful?"

"With your preference for red, it will please you. It is truly a majestic stone with blazing true red colour. It symbolises success, devotion and integrity, and gives to the possessor, wisdom, happiness and health. A truly powerful gem."

"The one in the centre, what is it called again?"

"The peridot. Some believed that it became invisible in sunlight but that is not so. It is valuable to the magician because in the hands of one sensitive to such things, it activates physical a
nd spiritual sight. Within its shimmering depths, visions of the past, present
and future are produced. It is impressive and as it works synergistically with the other stones, is capable of giving some insight into the future. Its correctness depends on circumstances, as well as the spiritual quality and dedication of the one who is using it."

Brock's mind was filled with wonder. Zebulon had made the story of the pendant come alive and given him knowledge of its many possibilities. He could imagine Theron with great magic and power surrounding him as he worked on it. He admired his wisdom in protecting such a powerful possession. He admired Zebulon too, for his worthiness at receiving such a gift. He had made a mistake but now nearly everything was almost as it should be, and he, Brock had become part of the pendant's history.

The travellers had made good time for their first day. Though Brock was sorry to leave those that had become his friends
,
he did not have the same regrets as in former times. He carried with him the rich history of the pendant and an understanding of his importance in the quest of bringing about its wholeness once more. He thought about Theron. Zebulon had told him that Theron himself had found the ruby in a rive
r
bed and so it excited Brock to think that he would follow in this great wizard's footsteps.

According to Zebulon's knowledge
,
the river was now far deeper than it had been in the days when Theron walked there, so the ruby would be found resting way down on the river floor. The idea of swimming in the river to recover the ruby was thrilling to Brock.

There would be few villages where they were going, so it was even more remote than the mine had been and yet instead of isolation as before, there was offer of adventure. They had brought an extra horse with them for supplies because the villages they would visit, it was expected would have little in the way of surplus supplies because they catered for themselves rather than irregular travellers.

The days they travelled took them further into limestone territory. On the smaller cliffs, Zebulon had them practi
s
e climbing, finding good foot and hand holds. It was tough work, and somewhat frightening sometimes. Brock found coming down worse when they abseiled because he found it hard to let himself stand horizontal from the cliff face, he wanted to stand up normally, but when he did that his feet would begin to slide out from under him. After much persistence he got the idea and then found it fun being able to make large hops down the mountain.

"That's enough practice on the cliffs for today. You now need to spend more time practising your magic," said Zebulon. "It
is most important you learn the protection spell thoroughly."

Brock still found magic practi
s
e arduous but he helped himself work by imagining he was Theron. In the telling of the stories of the wizard, Zebulon had captured Brock
’s
imagination and many of the evenings were filled with him asking questions which Zebulon answered patiently.

The country around them held a charm for him also. As they progressed on their journey they ventured further into a world of limestone cliffs and caves. Days of travel brought them further into country where limestone cliffs towered above them. Many looked like magical castles and other mystic things.

"They remind me of great castles," exclaimed Zebulon suddenly.

To this comment Brock enjoyed considerable amusement because he had been thinking the same thing but didn't want to sound fanciful by saying anything. Zebulon narrowed his gaze as he watched the grin play around Brock's mouth.

"Something amusing you?"

"No, no. Just admiring the cliffs. Do we have to climb them?"

"Further on it will be necessary. We need to see if there is a cave nearby where we can spend the night, then next morning we will head for the next village for supplies."

They found a cave, one larger than any they had stayed in so far. Brock set to with his practice while Zebulon prepared a simple meal. He had become much better with moving the stone and could now direct
things
from one hand to the other, or aim it at an object. He targeted a small limestone outcrop near the entrance of their cave and was taking great delight in sending the stone to bounce along the top of it before returning it to his hand.

Zebulon smiled at him. "You are doing well young lad."

No sooner were the words uttered than the stone hit
Zebulon
hard on the back of the head.

Brock rushed forward. "I'm sorry Zebulon, I lost concentration! I'm really sorry. Are you alright?"

"It hurt, but I will live." With that said Zebulon dived at Brock and tackled him to the ground. Brock was alarmed at first until he realised from the broad smile on the other's face that he was playing. Something he had not done with him before.

"Right," said he as he released the elf and lifted him on his feet again, " Now do your other practi
s
e. You have enough time before we eat."

"I don't like the protection spell. Nothing happens."

"Yes it does, it is just not strong enough for you to notice. But there will be times soon, when you will be very thankful you learnt it."

The next day they arrived at a tiny village. They entered it through a large gate that was reminiscent of Brookfield farm, although this gate stood open because there was no fence joining it.

"Are you sure this is a village and not a private farm?"

Zebulon gave a short chuckle. "It's the village, just a very small one with not more than a few families. I am not sure how friendly they will be towards two ragged strangers suddenly coming upon them."

They followed a narrow winding road up to the top of a gentle rise. From there the travellers had an excellent view of a neatly set out village. The few dozen houses were all carefully cared for, painted with clean, pleasing colours. The surrounding grounds had well trimmed hedges, a few flowers and rows of vegetable gardens. Off to one side there was a large vineyard with plump, perfectly shaped bunches of grapes adorning the vines which grew along latticed structures. Children played in the yards, oblivious to the strangers. Further away from the houses were sheds and fenced off areas where fowls, pigs and goats occupied themselves as it pleased them. On the slopes at a distance, horses could be seen quietly grazing.

Men and women were feeding the animals and getting them settled for the approaching evening. A woman engaged in throwing food to some eager fowls suddenly noticed the travellers. She called to a man nearby. He gazed up at the strangers and then gave a wave and indicated with a generous gesture for them to join him.

"Well so far so good. They seem friendly enough," commented Zebulon.

They led the horses down from the slope, following well worn tracks. By the time they joined the villagers, more had been alerted to their presence so that there was a small gathering of men, women, and most of the children.

"Hello strangers," said the man who had beckoned to them. "My name is Benjamin. What brings you to these parts?"

"Zebulon. And this is Brock. I'm showing the young lad where the old prospectors used to work. We will be following the Ruby River."

"That's a big river. And with all the cliffs, you need to be careful. You could be injured or lost. Don't think you'll find any rubies there any more."

"We are taking care. We have a map, and we know how to rock climb. But thank you for the warning."

The children were fascinated by the visitors. It was obvious they didn't see too many strangers. They were particularly interested in Brock, Zebulon seemed rather daunting to them. They would edge each other on to come close to Brock and as soon as he looked at them they would scurry back to hide behind the other children. Once he entered into the game and pretended he was going to chase them, they found that so much fun, the game could have gone all night had not their mothers called them in to wash up and get ready for the evening meal.

Benjamin agreed to supply them with provisions and was willing for them to erect their tent on a flat, sheltered area near some of the big sheds. He also invited them to dine with his family, and the invitation was graciously accepted by Zebulon and Brock.

Sometime in the middle of the night they were woken from a sound sleep by some sounds, but preferred to stay tucked under their rugs, believing that it was some activities of interest only to the villagers. But later they were to learn the real reason for the nocturnal noises.

Early in the morning they were rudely awakened and dragged from their tent. Brock struggled defiantly but his efforts were fruitless, for the men were quite strong. Zebulon went with them quietly and waited patiently for an explanation of the reversal of their welcome. The men, expecting opposition from Zebulon had armed themselves heavily with whatever object would serve their purpose for hitting or cutting. Benjamin had several stout ropes and he directed some of the men to tie Zebulon and Brock to
a
post which formed part of one of the sheds.

Brock was bewildered by the change in circumstances. He noticed the once playful children lingered at a distance peering from behind a mother's skirt or a hedge. At the direction of some of the men the women shepherded the children back inside the houses.

Zebulon passively allowed himself to be bound with the robes, the only indication of his displeasure was a tiny muscle tightening and flexing in his jaw. Brock was angry with the wizard. He was probably strong enough to free himself from his capt
ors
but then if he would only use his magic, their freedom would be assured. He decided that at least he would do something. He concentrated all his efforts into lifting a small rock in the endeavour to instil terror into their capt
ors
. He could not understand when nothing happened. The rock did not even tremble. Zebulon was well aware of his intentions and he stared sternly at him as a warning.

Zebulon's face showed little emotion as he asked, "What is the meaning of this? You made us welcome yesterday and now you treat us like criminals."

"You tricked us, you did," said a man they called Gamble.

"In what way?"

"You came in here pretending to be innocent travellers so you could see what we had, and how many of us there were, and then you had your friends come and rob us," stated Benjamin in a hard tone.

"Rob you, of what?"

"Don't play games with us," growled Gamble, then he spat and cursed so much that Benjamin told him to be quiet.

"If you intend to keep us bound, and accuse us of theft you need to at least inform us of the charges against us," said Zebulon in a stern tone.

"A yard was broken into in the night and all our horses are gone," said Benjamin.

"So could the horses have broken out
of
their own accord?" asked Zebulon.

"No, this is the doing of men."

"What makes you so sure we are involved?"

"Because we don't have trouble around here, but the moment you
arrive
, we are robbed."

The hard line around Zebulon's mouth was the only sign that he held within him a temper ready to erupt. "Then if we are supposedly involved with these robbers, why would we stay around after the deed is done?"

So intent on finding someone to blame for their losses, the men had readily made assumptions that had little to do with the reality of the situation. They murmured among themselves and some were already beginning to feel uneasy about their hasty accusations.

Finally Gamble spoke. "Because you stayed to see what else would be worth the taking."

"Yes, you must think we are stupid, and wouldn't associate you with the robbery. We'll leave you here to think about telling us what you are really up to. Maybe when you begin to feel hungry, you might give us some worthwhile information." Having said that Benjamin walked back to his house and the rest of the men followed to their own houses.

One paused and said, "Should someone stay on guard?"

Gamble gave a short harsh laugh. "You'd have to be a wizard to get out of those ropes, and I can see them from my house if their friends decide to free them."

Once they were out of hearing, Brock turned to Zebulon. "Why didn't you fight them?"

"There are too many of them, and they had weapons. I do not enjoy pain of defeat any more than the next man."

"Then why don't you use magic?"

"I have explained to you about the indiscriminate use of magic."

"But this is an emergency!"

"Not yet it isn't. Let them cool down and they may see the folly of their thoughts. To let them know unnecessarily that we have magic is like taking out a purse full of gold and expecting them not to be influenced by the prospects in their favour."

"Why couldn't I do magic? I am so angry, I just wanted to hurt them."

"Precisely, you were angry. Remember young lad, you need to have discipline to have control."

Welcome smells of the morning meal wafted through the open windows. Brock raised his head and inhaled deeply of the tempting aromas.

"Well they are waiting for us to get hungry and I'm already hungry, so what happens now
?
And I'm very uncomfortable with these ropes!"

The ropes were strong and coarse and cut into their skin. Zebulon became silent and maintained a concentrated expression. Presently Brock felt a sensation pass through his body, similar to the charge he sometimes felt when performing magic, and the ropes loosened from around him. Both he and Zebulon stepped free of their bonds. The wizard gave Brock a knowing look.

"Will we make a run for it?" he asked Zebulon.

"No, we'll sit here and wait for their return. I don't want to be on the run for something I didn't do."