The Wizard's Apprentice (The Apprentice) (17 page)

In this state of abandonment Zebulon felt as though he was both the sufferer and the audience. As though standing beside himself he witnessed the terrible scene with compassion and understanding. Finally all was quiet and he bent lower to the ground, to rest his head on his arms. Then he heard a calm voice speak to him. Whether it was the quiet voice of reason or from another being, he could not tell, but he came to realise that temper was his weakness and his strength. Just as the great power of magic must be controlled and channelled for good, so must his strongest passions. The voice came clearly, “Why should those you loved be robbed of the giving and receiving of love because you are too proud, too stubborn to forgive yourself? Learn from your errors but do not use them as weapons against yourself or others. You cannot truly love and forgive another until you can do this also for yourself.”

He lay a long time on the ground knowing the demons of self-accusation had finally spent their power and he turned at last from the dark pit of despair, with the knowledge that in his trials he had the ability to develop self-mastery.

As he raised himself upon his feet, he let the cooling evening breeze wrap around him, offering its gentle touch to soothe his wounded being. He breathed deeply of the faintly scented air and turned his thoughts to his beloved. His heart longed for an answering response of love from Saniyah and to once more hold her in his arms. He could not tell how she felt for his internal conflicts had blinded him to her desires. He returned to the stream to bathe his face in the cool water, this time finding healing in its music as well as refreshment in its soothing coolness. Turning from his solitary state he made his way to the lounge where he knew the others would be sitting. Each night he had passed directly to his rooms after his evening walk, so when he entered the wide glass doors, three pairs of eyes looked at him in surprise and anticipation. Frankly he returned each inquiring look, noticing that Saniyah could not long hold his gaze before looking downwards. He observed with quickening hope that the cheeks below her thick dark lashes had coloured slightly, and with lighter heart he went to the harp which sat in one corner of the room.  Z
e
bulon's skilled fingers began to pluck the strings, and a melody rose that was both bitter and sweet. The music mingled with the senses of the listeners, telling them of pain and sadness. Then, there arose other strains which began to weave around the first sobbing intonations, and out of its sadness was heard songs of hope and love and joy.

Conversation had ceased when Zebulon had entered the room but now each one sat back
fully absorbed in the music while it told tales that words could not express. Teas grew cold and books lay open and forgotten. While he played,  Zebulon studied his fair sweetheart, and though she did not look at him again,  he knew that she heard the music speak to her of his love. A single tears glistened on her cheek.

Though Brock's health was improved it would take more time before he would be completely healed. Sometimes he still had bad dreams.

Early in the morning,  Zebulon, on hearing moaning coming from Brock's room, quietly slipped into the room to check on him. Saniyah was there moments before him. They stood close by each other. The soft light entering the room tipped the red highlights of Saniyah
’s
hair. The feel of her so close and her lovely fragrance unnerved Zebulon. Glancing over the top of her head towards his portrait,  he observed that the image was half turned towards the front. His lips curled at the corners and as he looked down at Saniyah,  found her studying him with wide expectant eyes. He looked at her delectable lips, so exquisitely formed and he felt a great longing swelling within him. In the quietness of the moment their heads, as if drawn by some invisible
force
,
drew closer
. With perfect timing, Brock gave a low groan and they froze, their lips a hair's breath from touching. Brock woke but was so sleepy he was unaware of the momentous
event
he had just interrupted. The opportunity was lost, but the time significant, for as Saniyah turned to leave, Zebulon looked up at his picture and found himself looking full face into his own likeness. He felt a smile spread across his face and a great weight lifted from his
shoulders
.

“Why are you smiling? Did I say something
amusing
in my sleep? Brock looked at him sleepily.

“You don't need to be asleep to sa
y amusing
things, young lad!” He ruffled Brock's hair.

“I feel as though much has been going on while I've been asleep. What has everyone been doing?”

“Watching over you. But take it easy now, and soon you will be stronger and can enter into all the activities around you.”

“I'm strong now. I'm ready to get up and do whatever you
need me to do
!”

Zebulon stood smiling down at the elf and then quietly left the room. Brock had fallen back
asleep as soon as he had uttered the last sentence.

Zebulon believed he knew where Saniyah had gone. She had a private garden at the back of the castle accessed by a track which wound around some small eleg
a
nt trees and a natural lake. He made haste, mostly ignoring the surroundings, but breathing deeply of the crisp morning air. The path ended at some soft shrubs which easily obscured the view of the gardens from the rest of the estate. There he found her, seated on a plain wooden seat. Her hands were folded on her lap and her face tilted downwards. It seemed that she may be trying to quieten the excited expectations
of
her heart. Zebulon paused at the entrance to regain his own composure and to
savour
in the vision of her, whom he loved so dearly. She was framed by a vine with a profusion of rich pink flowers. The pale morning light filtered through the lacy foliage
creating
highlights on her features and touching strands of her hair,
bringing
them alive with a soft red-gold light. He caught his breath as he looked on her loveliness. He was ready to take her into his arms and he knew she was ready to submit to his caresses, but he yet had one thing which troubled him and this left him standing mute and idle. Now that he had time to think of his desires he was hesitant to
e
nact them.

Becoming aware of his presence, Saniyah lifted her head and gazed directly at him. Zebulon was awakened to action and with quick strides he stood before her as she rose from the seat in anticipation.

Taking her hands in his, he gazed down at her. She looked up at him with the strength and assurance with which he was accustomed, but yet there was something different in her also. In her countenance was a gentleness he had not perceived before as if suffering had given her greater patience and a deeper love. He released her hands and dropped his arms to his side, clenching his hands to stop the trembling in his fingers.

“I'm sorry. Will you forgive me?” His voice was husky with emotion.

With tenderness she responded.“I think we both forgave each other long before we forgave ourselves.”

Nothing could further stay the need they both shared. Placing his hand under her chin he lifted her face to his. Their lips met first in a gentle, tent
a
tive kiss which quickly developed into one of hungry passion too long denied. As they clung together in an embrace of deep yearning Zebulon felt a small tremble run through her body and he responded by tightening his arms around her and drawing her even closer. Gently he lowered her onto the soft grass and continued caressing her tenderly. He sort her lips again and resumed kissing her. From there his lips strayed over the creaminess of her neck, to her shoulders, and to the tops of her breasts where the soft rise of her bosom tantalizingly met her dress. He loved the smoothness of her skin. Every movement she made, every caress sent spasms of delight through his body. His hand stroked the gentle curves of her body, feeling the tingling of her response as if every nerve answered his touch. The soft fabric that lay between them seemed to be hardly there. The intensity of his desire was magnified by the feeling of newness of their inti
m
acy mixed with an older, former knowledge of each other. He felt vulnerable but his very vulnerability opened to him the love of Saniyah. The richness of her love completed him.

“My darling, my darling,”  he mum
bled
before her kisses silenced him. The surroundings ceased to exist for them, they alone were reality.

Much later when they had
renewed their love and the hunger within them had been satisfied, they lay in contented silence, still melted into each others arms. When finally they roused themselves, words came tumbling out and they spoke the things closest to their hearts, voicing thoughts and feelings that had too long been
hidden away
inside. Then they would be silent, only to once more engage in the deepest conversation. This pattern was repeated many times. They had no concept of the passing of time and no desire to let anyone or anything intrude on this precious time together.

Brock awoke later in the morning and found himself alone. He wondered for a moment where Zebulon had gone for he didn't realise he had fallen back
a
sleep for so long. Then he observed that the room was brightly lit from the sun blazing in the open window and knew then that considerable time had passed. He felt more energy now, and the mental haze had lifted making his thoughts  clearer. He was considering getting out of bed when Karmen entered the room. Her face lifted in a smile.

“You have more colour in your face this morning,” she observed. “I think you are probably wanting to get up for a while.”

“Oh yes, I'm feeling strong and ready to go,” he said enthusiastically.

“Then you may like to join us for a meal.”

“I'm so hungry. No one gave me breakfast!”

Karm
e
n gave a laugh. “That's because you were fast asleep when it was brought to you
!”

Getting out of bed wasn't as easy as expected. Brock found that he was far weaker than he realised, finding he need
ed
frequent rests between even the slightest exertion. Karm
e
n helped him to a big comfortable chair on the veranda
h
where he could look out on the grounds of the castle. The gardens were not as formal as Brock had expected but he delighted in the profusion of flowers that seemed to be competing in a friendly way for notice and appreciation. Brock preferred natural scenery, where nature showed its own creative genius to delight the senses. He smiled, for some reason the flowers reminded him of the little ones back in his village when they were presenting a play and each desired to be the star. He sighed as an overwhelming wave of homesickness swept over him. Fortunately Kareem and Karm
e
n joined him, settling comfortably into chairs beside him. They were followed by servants bringing hot tea and delectable refreshments which they placed before him on a round table.

“Eat up,” said Kareem. “We need to put some meat on those bones.”

Brock laughed and noticed for the first time how thin he looked.

Noticing his worried look, Karm
e
n said. “Don't worry Brock. It will not take you long to build up your health and
gain some we
ight again.”

The three sat for a long while, chatting of lighter and fun things. Sometime
s
Kareem would beg
i
n to softly sing a song. Some were of romance and others
comical
. Brock's mood became happier and as he looked out over the gardens his mind travelled the many winding paths that curved in and out amongst the flower beds, shrubs, and trees. He was already planning to venture along them as soon as he was able.

“We'll have to go walking in the gardens in the next few days. Would you like that?” asked Kareem.

“Very much!”

“Good. I always find walking helps me think, relaxes me, and makes me feel all is well in the world,” replied Kareem.

Brock sat in contented
companionship
with Kareem and Karm
e
n. While they read he sat gazing over the beautiful countryside or indulged in  daydreaming. Food and drink was brought to them, and although he professed to being hungry, Brock was satisfied after only a few mouthfuls.

He was wondering where some of the paths might lead when Zebulon and  Saniyah came walking into view. They were holding hands and appeared to be engaged in earnest conversation. Kareem and Karman exchanged looks of satisfaction. As the couple mounted the steps to the veranda
h,
the others noted that their eyes
twinkled
and their faces glowed.

Brock looked from one to the other and asked, “What is going on, you both look . . . different?”

“Nothing much, just been enjoying some time without being interrupted by you.” Zebulon gave him a playful tap on his head.

“Oh I understand,” he said cheerfully, but he didn't. He gained understanding as the days passed and he would see them either cuddling or talking together, having little interest in anyone else. He was happy for them but he felt a little left out, for Zebulon had no interest in teaching him, only telling him that he needed more time to get better. Saniyah, who had been so tender and attentive towards him now seemed preoccupied.

Brock regained his health quickly, though some weakness left him open to periods of despondency. Karm
e
n was pleased with his progress and prepared to return to her home. She knew he would be in supportive company for Kareem would see that he was not left too long alone to indulge in dark thoughts.

The friends gathered on the morning of Karm
e
n's departure. The mood was rather subdued. Brock had been telling himself that he was glad she was leaving because then she wouldn't be there to always remind him to take his herbs and to pace himself, but now that she was actually going, he felt an uncomfortable pressure behind his eyes and a lump in his throat. He hung back as Karm
e
n went to each in turn and hugged them.

“Cheer up, all of you. I won't be that far away!” she said.

She went to Brock and took hold of his hands. “You are going to be fine now. You are always welcome to visit me, in fact I will expect you.” She smiled sweetly at him. “Come on,” she said, “At least give me a hug!”

Karmen wrapped her arms around him and speaking softly into his ear, she said. “You are a special young man. Great things will happen in your life.” She kissed him on the cheek and released him from the embrace.

“Thank you Karm
e
n, for all you have done for me. You are a beautiful lady.” Brock no longer cared that his voice was husky and that tears were bearding on his eyelashes.

Karm
e
n turned quickly away and Brock was sure that her tears were not too far away.

The four who remained, stood together silently for some time after Karm
e
n had left.

Over the following days, Kareem was quick to detect any bouts of depression and spend considerable time talking to and encouraging the young elf. Brock spen
t
much of his time walking with Kareem in the spacious gardens. He found the old wizard a wonderful companion, so patient and so knowledgeable.

On one such time together as they walked along one of the many paths that wound like ribbons amongst the lush green grass and the many flowering plants, Brock confided in Kareem.

“Karm
e
n rouses on me for not studying books more, but I can listen to all the things you have to teach me and I don't need books.”

“It is good that you can learn much from me, but there are many more things to find in excellent books, that I cannot teach you. You should not rely on information from only one source for it can be incomplete or flawed. We all have our limitations, and wrong information. What we believe is coloured by our life experiences and by our character. What I believe to be the truth may not be so.”