Witch World (28 page)

“What about Jasper?” I asked.

“He was killed trying to defend me. It happened the day we were expelled. I wasn’t with him at the time, and I later avenged his death, killing all of the men who participated in his murder. But whoever coined the phrase that revenge is a dish best served cold has never lost a loving brother. Vengeance is no better than drinking ice water in winter.”

“Did either of your daughters inherit your powers?”

“Tabby did. She awakened them by accident, when she fell from a peak and broke every bone in her body. She was sixteen at the time. Naturally, her mother was stunned when she recovered. But in my heart I knew Tabby was like me, and that dying was the key to stirring the magic. For that’s how it seemed to us, that we’d been gifted with some strange powers that the gods had bestowed on us for reasons of their own.”

“What gods did you believe in?” I asked.

“We had so many in those days. Their names don’t matter.”

“Did Nanar feel the same way?”

“Nanar was grateful for my gifts. They had allowed us to survive harsh winters. And of course she was overjoyed when Tabby was healed. But when Tabby and I didn’t age, and she and Clara did, then my wife began to feel our powers were a curse.”

“Why?”

Kendor stared at me. “Think how it will be if you never age but Jimmy does.”

“But I have the gift of healing. I can keep him young.”

“Did your father tell you that? He shouldn’t have. Yes, it’s possible you’ll be able to prolong his life and cure him of most illnesses. But if he lives two centuries, he’ll still grow old.” Kendor paused. “And one day you’ll bury him.”

It was hard for me to reply. I couldn’t imagine being with Jimmy so long and then losing him. “Is that what happened with Nanar?” I asked.

“I lost Nanar when she was eighty-eight. Yet my words don’t convey what really happened.”

“Because you lost her long before that?” I said.

“I remained a young man, and Tabby never aged. But Nanar grew old and wrinkled, as did Clara. I would have given my life to trade places with them but I couldn’t. And so I finally learned the bitter half of what it meant to be a witch.”

“May I ask? Is Tabby alive?”

He shook his head. “I’d rather not talk about that.”

“What would you like to talk about?” I asked carefully.

“Let’s return to the Battle of Alesia and Caesar. You’ll see why when I finish. It was an important time for the fledgling republic and I use the word ‘fledgling’ deliberately. Rome was still in danger of being destroyed before it could begin to approach its potential. In the decade prior to Alesia, with my help, Caesar had largely pacified Gaul, and he was considering a return to Rome. But the Gallic tribes gathered during 53 BC for a crucial meeting. They realized that only by uniting their many tribes could they achieve independence from Rome.
They declared the ruthless Vercingetorix of the Averni tribe their commander and put the bulk of the Gallic armies under his control.

“We were unaware of this alliance. It caught us completely off guard. The first sign of trouble came from what is now the city of Orléans in France. All the Roman settlers were killed. This was followed by the slaughtering of all Roman citizens, merchants and settlers in the major Gallic cities. On hearing this news, Caesar rallied our army in haste and we crossed the Alps into what you would call France. That in itself was a mighty deed—the Alps were buried in snow. Caesar accomplished the trip in record time and we were able to surprise the Gallic tribes. Caesar then split our forces, sending four legions into the north after three major Gallic armies, while we set out in pursuit of Vercingetorix with five legions. Caesar succeeded in scattering his armies but in the summer of 52 BC, Vercingetorix managed to reach the fort of Alesia.”

“What was so special about it?” I asked, wondering why he was going into such detail.

“It was on a hilltop, surrounded by numerous river valleys, which gave it strong defensive features. Vercingetorix had eighty thousand men to our twenty thousand. A frontal assault would have been hopeless so Caesar decided upon a siege. He hoped to force a surrender by starvation. The idea was brutal but strategically sound. Besides his warriors, Vercingetorix had the local civilian population to feed.

“To guarantee a sturdy blockade, we built an encircling set of fortifications—called a circumvallation—around Alesia. That’s one thing you can read about in your books. Eighteen kilometers of four-meter-high fortifications were constructed in a month. The line was surrounded by ditches. They were virtually impossible to cross.

“But Vercingetorix was a sly devil. He managed to slip a detachment of cavalry through an unfinished section. This was a major blow to our plans. Now we had to worry that reinforcements would be sent. Anticipating such a relief force, Caesar ordered the construction of a second line of fortifications, which was called the contravallation. It faced outward and stood between our army and the first set of walls we had erected. It was designed to protect us when the Gallic relief forces arrived. For us, the fighting soldiers, the irony was painful. We, the besiegers, were preparing to be besieged.

“Inside Alesia, things went from bad to worse. Too many people were crowded inside the plateau, competing for too little food. Vercingetorix decided to expel the women and children from the citadel, hoping to save food for the fighters and praying that Caesar would show mercy and open a breach in our line and let them go. But Caesar issued orders that nothing was to be done for the civilians. The women and children were left to starve in a no-man’s-land between the city walls and the circumvallation.”

“That’s horrible,” I said. “How can you say he was a great
man? He could have let the women and children go.”

Kendor shook his head. “This is something you need to hear. You want heroes who only perform noble acts. But the greatest heroes often make the most bitter decisions. Caesar knew if we took down even a small portion of our wall, Vercingetorix would use the opportunity to destroy our lines.”

“So you just stood idly by and watched them all die?”

“Caesar watched. Day and night he listened to their weeping. For him, it was a form of penance. Nevertheless, he knew what he was doing was right. He was protecting his men.”

“Why tell me so much about this battle? It just makes me sick.”

“Because eventually you’ll be called upon to make similar decisions.”

“How do you know? You can’t see my future.”

Kendor spoke softly. “I can see inside your heart.”

“That’s insane. We just met.”

“You’re mistaken. I was the principal protector of Lara in witch world. During that week we spent together, I got to know you well. We had many private talks.”

“I’m glad. But I’ve heard enough about this battle. Let’s talk about something else. Let’s talk about the Alchemist.”

“I was just about to come to him.”

“Oh.”

“He’s connected to Alesia. Let me continue. The women and children all died. The summer came to an end and on
October second, the Gallic relief effort finally arrived, led by Vercassivellaunus, a cousin of Vercingetorix. He launched a massive attack with sixty thousand men, while Vercingetorix attacked with his soldiers from inside the fort. We were caught between a hammer and an anvil. We didn’t stand a chance. Yet you can read in your history books how Caesar somehow, miraculously, rallied his troops and defeated the enemy. But historians have struggled with that battle to this day. Because how do a hundred and forty thousand men lose to twenty thousand? The answer is simple. They don’t.”

“I assume the Alchemist did something?”

“Yes.”

“What?”

Kendor’s gaze was suddenly far off. “He came one week before the Gallic relief forces arrived. I was alone in my tent at night but couldn’t sleep because of the stink of the rotting bodies on the other side of the line. The air was hot and humid. I lay there wondering how much longer we could go on, when suddenly he stood at the opening to my tent. I recognized him, of course, but I leaped up with my sword. In those days it seldom paid to trust a stranger.”

“What did he want?” I asked.

“He said he had come to help. I asked him how and he spoke about a black powder we could produce that would allow us to kill a hundred men with one catapult. I thought the idea ridiculous but he insisted I grab a torch and follow
him to a cave miles from our camp. There the walls were heavy with deposits of guano.”

“Guano?”

“Bat feces. It had built up over centuries and crystallized. Today a chemist would recognize the material as a perfect source of potassium nitrate. Back then we called it saltpeter or stone salt. The Alchemist had me collect several large bags. By then the sun had risen and he led me to a deposit of sulfur. To me it was just a yellow powder that stank. When we finally returned to camp, he ordered me to bring him a bag of coal, which he ground into a fine powder with a hammer.”

“Wait a second! You’re talking about gunpowder!”

“Excellent. You know your chemistry. Seventy-five percent potassium nitrate, fifteen percent charcoal, ten percent sulfur. Carefully mixed and compressed in leather bags, it gave Caesar’s army an interesting weapon to place in our catapults.”

“You began to bomb the enemy?” I asked.

“Yes. During our initial barrage, I think we killed more from sheer shock than actual explosive power. Our own men were afraid to handle it. They spoke of the black powder as coming from the underworld, Pluto’s infernal realm. Caesar did nothing to dispel the talk. He guarded the formula carefully and allowed only a select group of men to manufacture it. They were all sworn to secrecy.” Kendor added, “Caesar was especially careful that none of our men wrote about it in their diaries.”

“Is that how it appeared and disappeared from history?”

“It was too great a secret to totally disappear. Your history books will tell you gunpowder was discovered by the Chinese in the ninth century but I can tell you it reappeared in several major conflicts outside the gates of Rome. It was one reason Attila the Hun failed to sack the city.” Kendor paused. “But I digress. You want to hear about the Alchemist. When the Gallic relief force finally arrived, we had stockpiled several tons of gunpowder. Once you knew the secret, it wasn’t hard to make. We immediately began to bombard Vercassivellaunus’s sixty thousand men. Few survived and the following week Vercingetorix surrendered to Caesar.”

“So Caesar wasn’t the military genius everyone thinks he was.”

“The Alchemist brought the key to victory. But none of us would have been alive to use it if Caesar had not been leading our army. When the battle was finished, the Alchemist came again in the middle of the night. He had a stack of cards with him. I had never seen such a thing. All the paper we had in Rome came in bulky rolls.”

“Don’t tell me the deck was identical to a modern pack.”

“It was the same as the decks you will find in the casinos. Fifty-two cards in a deck. Queens, diamonds, hearts, and jacks—the same four suits. I know what you’re going to say. Your history says that cards were invented by the Chinese in the ninth century. But don’t you find it interesting that’s the same place and time your historians say gunpowder was invented?”

“Are you saying the Alchemist arranged for our history books to be rewritten?”

“I’m not sure. But I do find the coincidence curious.”

“To say the least. Did the Alchemist happen to teach you any card games?”

“Twenty-two. Red queen. He taught me the rules and then we played the game for real stakes. He played the role of the dealer and he beat me badly. I lost more than two pounds of gold coins, which was a lot of money in those days. It’s a lot of money now. He insisted I pay. Then he said he was always to be paid when a person lost at red queen.”

“How?”

“I assume you mean how was he supposed to collect the money? He didn’t say, and I didn’t bother to ask because I found the instruction very strange. But I must admit I enjoyed the game. The Alchemist left me with a hundred decks of cards and I taught red queen to dozens of my fellow soldiers. Many grew addicted to it. More than a few lost their pay and fights broke out. But the men who played the role of the dealer, when they did win, they were never able to hold on to their winnings.”

“What do you mean?”

“They would misplace the coins somehow. Or the coins would just disappear. Superstition grew around the game, causing strife, and Caesar stepped in and outlawed it. He collected all the decks of cards and had them sent back to Rome. Those
crates were only reopened when Claudius became emperor in 41 AD.”

“Did you teach Claudius how to play red queen?”

“Someone did. A soldier in Caesar’s army had made a record of the rules and passed it on to his children. Claudius responded favorably to it. He loved games of all kinds, not just gladiator contests. For a time red queen underwent a revival, but only those close to the emperor, the nobles and senators, played. They were the only ones who were given decks of cards.”

“Did the dealers’ winnings continue to vanish?”

Kendor hesitated. “Yes.”

“How?”

A note of impatience entered his voice. “I don’t know. The game only lasted thirteen years, as long as Claudius did. By then the decks of cards were worn out anyway. There was hardly a complete deck left. When Nero took the throne, he outlawed it.”

“Why?”

Kendor shrugged. “That’s what Nero did. He outlawed anything he didn’t like.”

“How did it come to be revived later on?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps someone found an old copy of the rules on a dusty parchment. It’s not important.”

I could see I was losing Kendor’s attention. Talking about the game appeared to irritate him, although he had brought it up. I asked him to tell me more about the Alchemist.

“He came to me a third time, in the middle of the night, after we had taken full control of Alesia. By this time we had a hundred thousand captive warriors. It was the custom in those days to sell them into slavery. As a symbol of mercy, Caesar planned to send ten thousand of them home without their weapons. He was far from cruel and he deplored senseless killing.