Chapter 3 Part 1

MEN OF TRUTH AND DECEIT


Sam was almost as glad to see his three guardians as they were to see him. When he walked into the common's room of the lodge where they had taken up residence, Armegon had leapt over two tables in order to get to him. The long white hair chased behind his head like a kite's tail so fast did he cross the room. Sam met his foster father with an enthusiastic embrace.

"Damn you, Sam," Armegon exclaimed. "Don't you every worry me like that again."

"I’m sorry," Sam apologized, "but I really didn't have any choice."

"Well," Ultrecht said as he approached. He had taken a more civilized route across the room. He had only leapt across one table. "At least it’s over," he continued. "I assume you were judged innocent."

"I’m sorry, uncle, but I have been found wanting. I’ve been sentenced to live the rest of my life in exile with the girl as her husband."

"That’s not necessary," Armegon said sternly looking around. "We only went along with this trial to avoid trouble. As it seems that these simpletons are insistent on making a person pay an outrageous sentence for a mistake of immaturity, I think we need not heed their silly laws." Armegon put a hand protectively around his ward. "You’re not going to spend the next fifty years in bondage."

"Oh, it won't be that long," Sam said morbidly. "The Forester said that I would not live more than five more years."

Armegon sat down hard. "I think maybe you had better tell us the whole story from start to finish," he said.

Sam recounted his story to his guardians. They all three listened very closely. "When we got back to the village," Sam concluded, "the sheriff told me I was free to go anywhere in town until sunset when I would be summoned back to the elder's hall."

When he explained what the Forester had said about his short life, both mages had to agree to the possibility. "I suppose it’s always played on my mind," Armegon admitted, "but there was no way for me to know or find out. It’s not within my healing arts to predict a lifespan."

Ultrecht leaned back. "It seems that you’ve had quite an adventure."

"This Forester," Armegon asked. "How did he judge you?"
"He had magic and could tell whether a person was speaking the truth or a lie," Sam explained. "He said that once the truth is known, the rest is just a matter of deciding what to do."

"He sounds fair," Tyson offered.
"Can you tell us anything more about him?" Ultrecht asked.
"Well, he traveled with a huge creature he called a coyodiak," Sam began.

Ultrecht whistled. "I’ve heard of them," he said impressed. "They are the size of large bears, but of the canine family, and very intelligent. I hear that they can be taught to actually understand simple speech. I haven't seen one myself so I suspect the descriptions are probably exaggerated."

"Well this one was really big and kind of scary at first, but later on I got the impression that it was friendly." Sam continued. "Anyhow, the Forester sneaked up on me in the night and told me to relax and that he was not there to kill me."

"He surprised you?" Tyson asked unbelieving. "I taught you too much for you to be caught off guard like that."

"I wasn’t off guard," Sam defended himself. "It was like he just appeared out of the dark."

"An assassin?" Tyson asked suspiciously.

"I don't think so," Armegon said. "Too many inconsistencies. For instance, why would an assassin waste time judging others or for that matter why would he leave anyone alive at all, especially if they could identify him."

"A druid might do something like that," Ultrecht said.

"That could be, but even a druid would not have been able to sneak up on Sam that easily," Tyson assured him.

"Well who do we have left?" Armegon asked. He counted on his fingers. "Someone who is sneaky, would be interested in enforcing what is right, might travel with an animal, and could be called the Forester."

"That," Ultrecht observed casually, "is an almost textbook definition of a ranger."

"He's right," Tyson added. "If you change sneaky to stealthy and reclusive if fits perfectly."

"Now that you mention it," Sam said. "I remember looking for his tracks later on and didn’t find any, I didn’t find any other sign that he had been there either. It almost made me believe that meeting him had been a dream."

"So, somewhere out there is a ranger of at least moderate skill," Ultrecht said. "I wouldn’t mind meeting him. If we could get him to join us, we would have fresh food each night."

"You could use a little less to eat," Tyson laughed. "You must’ve gained thirty pounds over the last year." Ultrecht answered with a dirty look.

"But uncle," Sam interrupted. "You will get to meet him. He told me that if I went to live at a place of his choice with the girl, then a druid would help me to live longer, and we would have a nice quiet and peaceful life. I asked if you could come, and at first he was reluctant, but he finally agreed to meet with you."

"Good," Armegon said approvingly. "I want to personally check into this five years to live thing."

It was about that time when the sheriff and two of his men entered the lodge. They spotted Sam quickly and started in that direction.

"One more thing, Sam," Armegon whispered, "when you tell the elders about what happened, don't mention the shield your mother saved you with." Sam frowned a bit, but agreed. Armegon had his reasons.

The elders were quite impressed with Sam's story. They stopped him on several occasions to ask questions, and Sam would patiently answer them before continuing on.

"You say the that the Forester has sentenced you to spend the rest of your life with Calista, and that you and she must leave the village?" the second asked.

"Yes, elder. Those were my instructions," Sam stated.

"How do we know that you’re not lying now?" the first asked.

Armegon stood and addressed him. Enough was enough. "Listen you idiot." That remark produced a gasp from the observers and his own companions as well. "You’ve tried him, tested him, and now you’d question him. He’s proven himself twice already. I see no reason for him to answer to you anymore." Three guards drew swords and headed towards Armegon and the others.

"Back off, hayseed," Armegon snapped. It was very obvious that he had had all of this as he was going to stand. "Back off or I’ll flatten this whole building and then proceed to bury this village under ten meters of rock." With that he held up an fist which burst into a blinding light as the surge-magic that made Armegon so powerful was awakened.

Ultrecht jumped to his feet. He leaned close to the angry mage's ear. "Remember, if you blow your stack, you’ll revert back to your old magi style. That style doesn’t exist here, so you’ll announce to Blackpuss and his brother the warlock that we’re still hanging around."

Armegon gritted his teeth. He took a deep breath and held it, then slowly let it out. Slowly he gazed about the hall. Mouths were agape, and fear danced on every face without exception. Well, he thought, at least he got their attention. "Forgive my outburst," he said finally to the elders. "It was a boy's father speaking, not a rational person."

"On the contrary," the third elder said. "I think your words, although a little extreme, were essentially correct and overdue. This boy has passed our trial by ordeal and has been given his sentence; a sentence, I might add, very similar to the one we originally set." He turned to his companions. "I recommend the girl be notified and we let this new couple depart with our blessing."

"Leave their fate to the Forester," an anonymous observer shouted. The cry was then repeated by other voices over and over until everyone else in the room was saying it.

The second elder stood and raised a hand. After a moment the crowd had quieted. "So be it," he said. "Let the word go forth. Tomorrow at second dawn the girl and her new husband will depart this village to the stone circle. What happens thereafter, we wish them well."

A cheer erupted and several young men came forward to shake Sam's hand. Sam wondered if it was because they were congratulating him, or thanking him for taking what they thought was a homely girl out of the husband hunt that runs through young maidens in small villages. He reflected on the marvel that in only a matter of days he had come to know the beauty inside the girl and it was something the superficial men of the village had failed to see.

That night the village celebrated and Sam found himself a reluctant guest of honor. He met Calista's father and found that he liked the hard working tailor. They both had something in common, deep feelings for his daughter. Sam was instructed on the inevitable subject of how he should treat Calista.

Ultrecht seemed amused by the whole affair. He had mentioned something that Sam had not understood; some remark about a shotgun wedding. Apparently Tyson understood, because he found the remark funny. Armegon was somber throughout the evening and said very little, and after the display earlier in the elder's hall, no one disturbed him either.

Calista was there as well. She spent much of the time giggling with other ladies, and stealing glimpses at Sam. He found that a little discomforting, but was not sure why. He was taken by complete surprise at one point when she had sneaked up behind him and when he turned around she gave him a long hard kiss. Sam blushed and wanted to run for cover, but he also wanted to do it again. Since they were in public, and the crowd was applauding the action, he settled for a hug and a smile instead. He really liked her, he decided.

After the celebration, Armegon, Ultrecht, Tyson, and Sam stayed up until well after midnight discussing what they should do. Armegon was all for skipping town. He insisted that if Sam had only five years of life left, he would be better off in the care of Ultrecht and himself. He was convinced that if help was available, he would find it.

Sam, on the other hand, expressed his discomfort in that idea. He had known the risks of appealing the elder's decision. He maintained that it was the law of these people and he would abide by that law.

Tyson supported Armegon, and observed that Sam's attitude was the result of too much exposure to Ultrecht's philosophies. He asserted that law and order is not absolute, and Sam should do what Sam wanted and to Hell with what everyone else thought.

Ultrecht took the position that finally won out. He told Sam that he would back him up no matter what he decided to do. Reluctantly Armegon and Tyson agreed.

Sam thought about it for a moment. Then made his decision. They would meet the Forester at the stone circle. Then they would decide what to do. Either way, he made it quite plain he was not going to leave Calista behind. For good or ill, she was about to join their group. Tyson wondered aloud if she could cook, then retired to bed. Ultrecht followed not long afterward.

Armegon and Sam stayed up a little longer. Not much was spoken; it wasn't necessary. "Things could get rough," Armegon warned. "She could get hurt."

"I’ll protect her as best I can," Sam said.

"We’ll help," Armegon added. "If she travels with us she’ll be one of us. She needs a skill."

"She can sew," Sam offered, "and I’m sure that is not all."

Armegon nodded. "I have no doubt."

"What’s wrong?"

Armegon stammered for a moment. "It seems that just a year ago you were still in diapers. I have watched you grow from a baby to a young man in record time. I would swear that some mornings you would put on an oversized shirt, and that evening the same shirt would be busting at the seams." He grinned. "I’m just getting sentimental. I’ve never been a father before."

"I have no complaints," Sam said softly. "You’ve never hidden from me the fact that both my parents are gone. If anyone deserves to be called my father, it’s you." He gave Armegon a hug. "I count myself lucky. You raised me, taught me, and provided for me."

"Come on, kid," Armegon said disengaging from the embrace. "We have a big day tomorrow."

The next morning as the second sun crept above the horizon, they exited the lodge with their packs loaded and awaiting them. Ultrecht's wagon and team had been readied earlier.

Calista clothed in a worker's tunic arrived with her father earlier as well. They had packed Calista's belongings in a small chest. The tailor had taken Armegon aside while she and Sam helped Ultrecht secure the chest in the wagon. "She’s the only thing in my life of any value," he had said. "Please watch over her."

Armegon was speechless. He did not know what to say. His time spent raising Sam had given him only the briefest idea of how dear a child could be to a parent. He knew how hard it was to let Sam face the Forester alone. This man was willing to let his only child of only fourteen years go off with strangers. Armegon simply could not comprehend the depth of this man's grief. He hoped he would never have to.

"Before we go I have something for you," Armegon said to the man. He held forth a small box. "Within this box is a piece of cloth. It doesn’t require any special material or anything it is just a very special weave. Take it and study it. If you learn how to duplicate it, you will prosper greatly."

The tailor opened the lid of the box and fingered the fabric within. "It is fantastic," he exclaimed. "The strength will be incredible. What is it called?"

Armegon shrugged. "Why don't you decide a name for it. I just have one request. Always dye it blue."

The tailor accepted his gift and moved to bid his final farewells. Tyson stepped next to Armegon. "What was that you gave him?"

"A piece of denim," Armegon answered. "If he learns its secrets, he will be a rich man." Tyson laughed and walked away.

As the old tailor gave his daughter one last embrace, Sam and Ultrecht climbed aboard the wagon. Tyson sat nearby on a light riding horse that he had purchased earlier. Calista then also boarded the wagon with Sam's assistance. She sat in the back next to a sack of meal. After a moment, Sam climbed in the back with her and sat by her side. He took her hand in his and she leaned her head on his shoulder. There were tears on her cheek. Armegon noted Sam's arm went around Calista's shoulder in a comforting hug. Perhaps, he thought to himself, love at first sight does exist. He hoped so for both their sakes.

Armegon climbed onto the wagon. He knelt down to where the young couple were cuddled. "I am sorry to break this up," he said with genuine sympathy, "but Sam’s the only one who has been to the stone circle. Sam, you need to ride up front with Ultrecht so that you can guide him."

Sam released his prize and started to rise. Quickly Calista leaned forward and planted an affectionate kiss on his cheek. He smiled in return then departed.

Armegon sat down close to Calista, but not so close as to make her uncomfortable. "Calista," he started, "we need to talk a little bit."

She appeared frightened at first, but then she steeled herself. Apparently she had just made some resolution. "Are you going to try to get me to leave?"

Armegon was slightly shocked. "Heavens no," he exclaimed softly. "I thought that since your future is now totally linked to ours, you should know what kind of people you’ve fallen in with."

Calista looked relieved. "I suppose you're right," she admitted. "But first I’d like to know something about Sam." She stole a glance at her lover's back. He sat next to Ultrecht, his long hair had been braided into a long tail that hung down to the floor of the wagon.
Armegon looked as well. He noted the braids. Since when did that boy spend so much time on his hair?

Armegon turned back to Calista. She had a dreamy look on her face. Her small, blue eyes sparkled. "Calista," he said.

She snapped out of a dream. "Yes?"

"You wanted to know something about him?"

"Oh, yes. What is he? I mean his race."

"His mother was human," Armegon said.

"And his father?"

"We don't really know," he said. It wasn't really a lie. Only Marlena had truly known that.

"His mother was a druid," he explained. "And as a druid she spent some time in the shapes of various creatures." Armegon saw shock register on the girl's face. Would she now change her mind now that she knew her mate was half animal? "It’s not unheard of," he added. "I’ve seen others like him." Well that last bit was a lie, but the first part wasn't. Marlena herself had said it.

Calista glanced again at her lover. He was talking to his uncle. "So where do you three come in?" she asked.

"We knew his mother very well. I myself delivered him. His mother died a short time later." There was no reason to discuss Marlena's return to her home world, and his deception. "She had no living relatives here, so I took him in. Ultrecht," he indicated the wagon's driver, "also knew Sam's mother, and has been helping me in raising the boy."

"He’s hardly a boy," Calista chastised. "I’m in a position to know."

Armegon smiled. "I stand corrected."

Calista's expression softened. "I barely remember my mother," she said. "I was three when she died of a fever," she stole another peek at Sam, "and he’s never known his. I feel so sorry for him." Armegon was beginning to like this girl. "How old is he?" she asked.

"A little over two years old," Armegon said.

Calista's mouth dropped open. "But he's so...I mean he is...Well I knew he was a little undereducated, but..."

"We taught him as best we could," Armegon explained. "He learns simple things very fast, but some of the more complex concepts of life give him trouble."

"Who are you?" she asked indicating Tyson and Ultrecht as well.

Armegon paused, just how much did he want to disclose? "We are travelers from a far away place," he said. "We were brought here against our will by some guy named Blackheart."

Calista's eyes widened in terror. "You’re in with Blackheart?"

"No," he reassured her. "We’re his enemies. I said we were brought here against our will. It was while we were trying to get home that Sam was born and we lost his mother a little later." He gestured to Ultrecht. "That’s Ultrecht. He is an elementalist. He may be the only one in the world, and certainly the most powerful one in the world."

"I have never heard of him," Calista objected.

"He’s been keeping a low profile," Armegon explained. "Blackheart may still come after us if he finds out we’re still here. Right now he thinks we’re dead or gone."

"If Ultrecht is so powerful, why not just kill Lord Blackheart, and be done with it. I know a lot of people would be grateful."

"It’s not that easy," my dear. "Blackheart is in league with some powerful beings. One on one, Ultrecht could take them out, I believe, but they far outnumber us. So as you can see we can provide for ourselves and live well and peacefully if we do not attract too much attention."

"By ‘too much attention’, are you referring to ‘flattening whole buildings then proceeding to bury villages under ten meters of rock’?" Calista smiled.

Armegon rocked back on his heels. "My what a sharp tongue you have my dear. Okay, yes that’s the kind of thing I mean. And yes I too am an archmage, but I’m a sorcerer and my magic is different from Ultrecht's."

"How so?"

Armegon pursed his lips and looked thoughtful. "The best way to explain it," he said, "is that my magic comes from inside me, and is therefore related to my mood. If I am feeling really mad I can call forth powerful destructive energies, but I can not heal the smallest cut. Likewise if I am happy, I can conjure butterflies and daffodils to your heart's content, but I could not harm a fly."

"Lilies," Calista interrupted.

"What?"

"My favorite flower is now the lily."

"Fine," Armegon shrugged. It apparently was important to her but he saw no significance. He assumed she understood the explanation about his magic.

"Ultrecht's magic," he continued, "comes from the world around him. Since the world possesses so much magic, he can do more powerful things, but his drawback is that he has to rely on symbols and complex spells to do so."

"So you are a warlock?" Calista asked.

"Not!" Armegon felt a little insulted. "Warlocks draw their magic from their surroundings like Ultrecht, but they control it with their minds. That gives them faster casting spells, but they pay for it in the fact that their spells, like a hastily prepared meal, may have an effect, but it is not as good as a meal that had been carefully and skillfully prepared. Also, warlock magic tends to be weaker, even though it is faster."

Calista nodded her understanding. "Okay," she said, "then what’s his story." she

gestured to Tyson.
"He also was brought here against his will, but he’s really his own person. I think that as long as we are all together he can be relied upon, but don't trust him with anything too important." Armegon leaned close. "He looks out for himself, and I think he’ll betray us if he thinks he can get something from it."

"Then why do you tolerate him?"

"We haven't been here for very long. We are strangers in a strange land. He knows a lot of things about what our enemy is planning."

Calista understood. "So you keep him for his knowledge?"

"Yes," Armegon confirmed. "Also because he knows enough about us to be valuable to anyone fighting us."

"Why not kill him?" The question was to the point, and Calista thought for a moment that she may have tread upon sensitive ground.

Armegon noted her concern. "It’s not a bad question," he assured her. "We have thought about it. But we owe each other too much not to give him the benefit of the doubt." He sighed. "Besides, I think that since there are only three of us left, we’re a little reluctant to killing someone from our home."

"I think I understand," she said at last.

"Is there anything else you might like to know?"

Calista paused. "You are a half elf, aren't you?"

"Yes." Armegon saw her curiosity. "Why do you ask?"

"I have never met an elf or even a half elf before." she replied.

"It isn't anything to get excited about. We tend to be a little shorter than average humans, and we live about three hundred years, but other than that we’re just like you."

Calista laughed. "I think I am going to like traveling with you folks."

"Let's hope so," Armegon said with a smile, and crept up to the front of the wagon leaving the girl to her own thoughts..

"We’re almost there," Sam informed them. "Around the next bend and up a slight incline to a plateau is where the stone circle is."

While Ultrecht's mules struggled to pull the wagon up the hill, Tyson rode on ahead. He returned a few moments later and reported that the circle was indeed there and it was unoccupied. Ten minutes later and they were all within the confines of the circle.

"The Forester told me to meet him in two days," Sam said looking around. "Where is he?"

"What time of the day did he say to meet him?" Tyson asked.

"He didn't say."

"Then what time was it when he told you when to meet him?" Tyson changed the question.

"It was after midnight," Sam replied.

"Then it has not been two days yet," Ultrecht pointed out. "If this Forester is really a ranger as we suspect, he will be very aware of time and place. They tend to be punctual and exact to a fault."

Calista was standing just outside the circle. "Mr. Armegon," she asked.

"Yes?"

"I’m not too thrilled about staying here at night," she said a little frightened. "The spirits of the forest roam here about in the form of the Forester."

Armegon sighed. Superstitions were hard to soothe. "You have nothing to fear, Calista," he told her. "We think that the Forester is just a wise old hermit."

"Then how does he punish?" she asked.

"Maybe he knows magic. It’s not really important. Why, are you guilty of something?"

Calista glanced at Sam. "Only love."

Armegon rolled his eyes. This was getting too corny. "Well you have a lifetime to indulge yourself with kissing and snuggling. Tonight you will have to settle for a quick kiss on the cheek," he suggested as he cocked a thumb at Sam who was unloading the wagon.

"Ugh," she whispered. "His whole body, except for choice parts, is covered in fuzz."

Armegon rolled his eyes. "Choice parts?"

"Mmmm." Calista dismounted. "Oh, Sam," she cooed, "help me gather some firewood please." Her voice had a hypnotic affect on Sam. He seemed to forget what he was doing, and a fairly heavy chest almost landed on Tyson's head. Sam jumped to the ground.

"Thanks, Mr. Armegon," She said shyly.

"Your welcome," Armegon returned. Then: "Oh, and Calista?"

"Yes?"

"It is just Armegon," he informed her.

Ultrecht couldn't resist. "Or Great One." Tyson snickered. The three adults watched the young couple clasp hands and wander off in search of firewood.

"I have seen that look in young women's eyes before," Tyson warned. "You’d better do something or you will be delivering another baby by this time next year."

"What do you suggest," Ultrecht asked. "You know kids at this age. They are going to be subject to nature's call. You can't keep an eye on them every minute, and it doesn't take too many minutes for it to happen at that age either."

"It’s a moot point," Armegon said. "Sam is sterile. She can't get pregnant without a healer's help, and I’m not that skilled. There’s no physical danger, so let them enjoy their love as much as they want."

"Won't they get tired of each other?" Tyson asked as he dipped a cup into the water barrel.

"No moreso than any other man and wife. Remember, by the laws of her village, Calista is married to Sam regardless if their ages."

"I don't think we need worry about Calista," Ultrecht observed. He was rummaging through the food stores. "She seems mature for her age."

"Age has very little to do with it," Armegon agreed. "Different people mature at different rates. Being without a mother for most of her life has forced her to grow up a little quicker than others her age would have."

Sam and Calista were gone for a little over two hours before they finally returned with a meager gathering of wood. Sam's hair was mussed and there were leaves stuck to the back of Calista's tunic. They seemed to be very docile and reserved. Ultrecht thought it was cute, Armegon found it irritating, and Tyson found Armegon amusing.

Calista prepared dinner. She insisted on doing so. She claimed she felt a little guilty because the others had done all the work so far. No one argued and within the hour no one was sorry. As it turned out Calista was an excellent cook. She carried in her chest a few pouches of spices and seasonings. She was complimented repeatedly.

It was near midnight when Tyson announced that he wanted to check the perimeter. "What do you expect to find?" Armegon asked.

"Nothing really," Tyson answered. "But you never can tell." He waved and trotted off out of the clearing.

"What do you suppose he is up to?" Ultrecht wondered.

Tyson zipped through the bushes. He was not really trying to be quiet or stealthy. If they were really dealing with a ranger, it would not do him any good anyway. He was really after a preliminary meeting. He did not know why, but something just did not feel right. His guts told him it might be time to ditch Armegon and Ultrecht again, and this time it would be for good, because there would never be another reprieve.

He was circling the camp in widening circles. He was certain that any good woodsman who was nearby would know where he was. So it was no surprise when a hand reached out from thin air and spun him around.

Tyson came into a fighting stance. He crouched low only to find the point of a sword less than an inch from his nose. Slowly his eyes traveled up the blade to the hand grip. Then he raised his eyes to confront his adversary.

He stood about five and a half feet tall. Silvery gray hair was held out of solid amber eyes by a braided cloth string. The elven features were augmented by an unelven stocky body suggesting half elven blood. His clothes were soft leather and hung loose. The color scheme was of mottled grays, browns and greens with no pattern. Tyson surmised that the looseness of the clothes could possibly be covering some light armor underneath.
"You must be the Forester," Tyson said. He could see no sense in not trying to start things off on a friendly note.

"And you must be Tyson, Grandmaster of the Dragon."

Tyson started. That voice. "Avery?"

"And here I thought you’d all escaped," the ranger said as he lowered his sword. "Who’s left?"

"Ultrecht, Armegon and myself," Tyson said. "We thought you were dead."

"I almost was," Avery admitted. "But we can talk about that later. Right now let's go to the others."

Tyson smiled. "After you," he said. "I don't mind telling you that you scared me back there. I’m not fond of swords suddenly appearing out of nowhere."

"Well I’m sorry," Avery apologized. "But I wasn't sure it was you until I got you to stop long enough to get a good look at you."

"By the way," Tyson said matter-of-factly, "is that a new sword?"

"It is the sword I got at the Oracle. It has some very interesting abilities. That’s partly why I have been sort of immortalized as the Forester."

Tyson paused. "I think I lost my pendant back there," he said as he frantically searched his blouse for the emblem of his order. He turned and looked back. "Listen, they’re waiting, and I don't want to lose this pendant like I did the last one. I’m going to go back and try to find it. I’ll catch up in a few moments."

Avery looked at him for a moment, then nodded and resumed his trek throughout the woods.