Chapter 6 Part 8

Ultrecht looked up from his book. It was a beautiful summer day. The yellow sunlight glistened off the rolling surf of a blue sea beckoning him to trade books for fishing tackle.
His books were all he seemed to have time for these days since he had taken his apprenticeship to the old sorcerer he had learned to affectionately call master.

The wise old man had rescued Ultrecht from the royal sorcerer who claimed that Ultrecht had a talent for magic, but not the head for it. Ultrecht simply could not understand the conventional magic formulas. It was not until he had been assigned to serve his master that he had actually begun to comprehend what the formulas were trying to do. But, Ultrecht saw flaws in the magic. In his mind's eye he saw greater power and more potent magics dancing just beyond the reach of what his former mentor had been trying to teach him.

His new master, though was patient and understanding. It was almost as if the old sorcerer was waiting for Ultrecht to discover something on his own that the old man already knew about.

Ultrecht looked again out over the surf. It was sunset. Mere moments had seen a whole day pass by. A moment later and it was dawn. Time flew and faster and faster the days passed until the day and night flickered like a strobe. Making his movements appear eerie. Then a bright burst of light left him standing before his master. The sorcerer did not appear to be as old as when he had first taken Ultrecht in.

"Now, my boy," the master said appraisingly. "The time has come for you to go out into the world as a journeyman. Be proud. You have done well. Your grasp of magic far exceeds that of any master in the world. I have no doubt that you will exalt yourself with your deeds. Be true to yourself and your art."

"I feel afraid," Ultrecht replied. "I have known very little of the world since I came here to work under you, master."

"Fear is just the anticipation of an unfavorable unknown," the master said. "Seek out the unknown. Learn about it, for it is knowledge that makes us strong. Even without magic, knowledge will make you powerful."

"Yes, master."

The master grew very compassionate. "You I send to the world. You are my greatest achievement."

"But the sword," Ultrecht countered referring to the sword that the old man had spent the last twenty years working on.

"Perhaps," the sorcerer admitted, "but that is for another world."

"Another world?"

"You will learn that there are many worlds. Most sorcerers are not aware of other worlds, but a few learn of and gain the knowledge to reach out to them. Even fewer ever travel to visit them. I am one of those few. Now that I have seen your feet to the path they were intended, I am now free to leave. I dare say we will not meet again."

Ultrecht was saddened. "Will I ever gain the knowledge?"

"I do not think so," the master said. "Your magic is too powerful. Traveling to different worlds is a very broad magical base. For you to have such power in this world, you can not have much power out of this world. You may find your way to another world with the aid of another, but that is the only way. If you desire to travel like that, seek a sorcerer who appears to be very competent, but very weak."

"I will see you some day, master," Ultrecht swore.

The master opened the door and escorted Ultrecht to a wagon loaded with his belongings. "No doubt you can overcome any obstacle, my boy."

"I am loathe to leave," Ultrecht said shyly.

"It must be so, my boy. I shall miss you."

"I will miss you too, master," Ultrecht said finally as he resolved to depart.

"Here is a hundred gold sovereigns to help you on your way," the master handed Ultrecht a small bag. "And Ultrecht?"

"Yes, master?"

"When next we meet, do not call me 'master'."

"Sir?"

"My name is Merlin."

Ultrecht awoke and sat up with a start. Armegon was in the bunk next to him snoring softly. It had been a dream, an old memory from long ago--very long ago.

Ultrecht dressed and quietly left the room. Across the hall was the room Calista occupied and next to that was the one Avery and Ruk was sharing. Ultrecht descended the stairs at the end of the hall and entered the commons room. It was very early in the morning and the only patrons were those who had gotten up early to get a head start on the day.

Ultrecht pulled a chair up to a table near the fire and requested some cheese and wine.
A middle aged woman served him and then sat in a chair across the table from him. "Can't sleep?"

Ultrecht smiled. "Restless, I suppose," he said. "I had a rather vivid dream from my younger days."

The woman brushed a wayward lock of hair from her face. She was not overly stunning in beauty, but, she was not repulsive either. She was filled out but the amount of fat on her body was minimal and her bust indicated that she possessed attributes that could intice. Her brown hair and brown eyes contrasted with her pale unblemished skin. Ultrecht wondered as to her motive at the moment.

"Would you like something?" Ultrecht decided the prudent thing to do would be offer the lady a drink.

"Thank you, no. I just wanted to talk a little." She spoke with the same lilt that the waiter and everyone they had spoken to since arriving in the west used. It was obviously a dialect of some sort. Avery had been concerned about how easy it would be to trace their passage by their speech patterns.

Ultrecht spent the morning in the company of the lady talking about many things that were unimportant. She had instantly picked up that he was from the east and made him describe the cities of Tycho and Allentown in detail. She then compared what he had told her to the major western city of Haganaw. Ultrecht learned that a large library also existed there as well. He resolved that should time permit they would visit it as well.

It was less than an hour after dawn when Avery and Ruk came down from the sleeping area. The minotaan and halfelf had become very friendly and were discovering that they had very similar philosophical views.

They approached the table and Ultrecht's conversational companion departed with the excuse that she was going off duty.

"Did we interrupt your attempt to procure a mate, friend Ultrecht?" Ruk asked apologetically.

Ultrecht frowned and Avery answered. "Nah, he doesn't do those kinds of things."

"Really?" Ruk asked completely fooled. "You should certainly try bedding a wife someday. They can be most agreeable. I can testify that three wives are quite sufficient if you do not spend too much time with any one of them. I have been told by comrades that four wives are a little more than a single man can handle."

Avery laughed and Ultrecht joined in. "My friend," the mage said, "I know a few women who would wring your neck for saying such as that."

The minotaan frowned. "I have met few women who are capable of doing that deed."

Avery explained. "Ultrecht was making a joke. He means that we know several women who are convinced that females are equal to males in every way."

Ruk snorted. "How ridiculous," he said. "If that were true then there would only be one sex. It is obvious to any fool that males are superior to females in many things; at the same time, females are superior to males in many other things; that they compliment each other."

"We know that," Armegon said joining them at the table. "But, the things women are good at, they consider unimportant."

"It is an age old battle," Ultrecht laughed. "Physiologically the female body is designed to have more stamina than a male body of equal weight, height and age. The male body is designed to put out a tremendous amount of energy in a small amount of time. Just as a good company of warriors will have a mix of bowmen and swordsmen, the two sexes compliment each other likewise. Both are vital and neither can function well without the other. The problem with feminists is not that they don't realize their own worth, it is that they push it in your face and will not let you realize yours."

"You sound knowledgeable on this subject," Ruk observed. "Did you have an unfortunate incident on the situation?"

Ultrecht sighed. "About seven years ago, I was hiring some fighters to accompany me on a trip. Amongst the applicants was an amazon warrior. She was very skilled and tough, but I only had room for six positions. After I had selected my scout, rogue, archer, and two clearly experienced fighters I chose a young man who was less experienced than she was. She labeled me sexist, and prejudiced. She even tried to get the fighter's guild to boycott my employment."

"Why did you select the young man?" Ruk asked.

"I am glad you asked, because she didn't," Ultrecht said. "The reason I chose the younger guy was because he was a journeyman healer as well as a fighter."

"It sounds to me as if your made a justified decision," Avery agreed.

"Well I am sure that sexual discrimination does take place, even though it shouldn't," Ruk said. "But I can see how some feminists will jump to the wrong conclusion. I find myself in a similar situation. Many peoples do not trust minotaans. Because of our facial features we are often considered mentally inferior though it is not true. I often find myself wondering if some of my setbacks in dealing with humans or demihumans is a result of prejudice."

"How do you deal with it?" Armegon asked.

"For the most part I ignore it," Ruk answered. "Oh there are laws to prohibit such discrimination, but to force others to treat you a certain way only drives a wedge further into the relationship. Instead, I work only for people who are willing to give me a chance to prove myself, and then I prove my value to them."

"That is a very healthy attitude," Avery commended. "I think it’ll take you far."

Ruk smiled. "At least to the end of this quest," he said.

"Which we need to get back to as soon as we can," Ultrecht added. "We aren't getting any younger."

Once Calista was awake and dressed, they paid their bill and departed the town. The forests were thinning somewhat, but open prairie lands were not the result. In the far distance they saw a ridge of mountains along the horizon. "That must be the Savanah mountain range," Avery said during the noon meal one day. "We will be coming into the foothills by the end of the week."

They marched onward passing through many small, friendly villages until three days later when they began to detect the gentle rising and falling of hills. The forest thickened up again and they passed another village.

This village held an unusual sight. As they stopped at a cafe to dine, they noticed one of the patrons was a creature with the torso, head and shoulders of a man but the lower body was that of a horse from the neck down.

"A centaur," Armegon announced. Just like the minotaurs, the centaurs had been myth on his home world, but in the new world they appeared to actually exist.

Avery asked one of the other patrons, a dark skinned man with very wiry hair and black eyes, about the creature. "Ah," the black man said, "that is a Janusian. They are called the horsemen for obvious reasons. They live at the foot of the mountain range. Best stay clear of them," the man advised, "they don't like strangers and are very secretive."

"Janusian," Ultrecht repeated. "That is close to Janus--close enough to warrant investigating it."

"I'll do it," Armegon volunteered. He rose and took the bottle of wine with him as he walked over to where the creature was dining.

"Greetings friend," Armegon announced. "Would you care to share some wine with me?" When no answer came, he assumed that he was free to sit. Without a glance back he pulled up a chair and took a seat opposite the Janusian. He filled his own cup and placed the bottle in the center of the table.

"Do you have a name, friend?" Armegon asked. The Janusian simply stared with large brown eyes back. He was wearing a red doublet and a yellow cap with a feather stuck in one side. His face was angular, but fair with a thin mustache on the upper lip. His hair was streaked with brown and gold and pulled back into a short pony tail. Armegon continued on as if he were speaking to an interested party. "I am called 'Megon' by my friends. You may call me that also."

"'Megon' or 'friend'," the Janusian asked. His voice was very deep.

"Both if you wish," Armegon replied. At least he had gotten the Janusian's attention.

"S’pose I choose neither," the Janusian countered.

Armegon looked hurt. "Then I take my bottle and leave you to your business. I don’t want to impose on you. I just thought that you might like some intelligent conversation.

The Janusian looked at Armegon with humor. "Would y’know an intelligent conversation if y’heard one?" Armegon assured him that he would. "Well, then suppose y’give me y’views on the political happenings in the east since your speech seems to indicate that that is where you are from."

"There are many happenings in the east," Armegon countered. "What specifically do you have in mind?"

"How ‘bout the attempt by House Blackheart to over throw King Rigel. That’s a poorly executed maneuver, and Blackheart’s not noted for his poor planning."

Armegon was somewhat relieved. The Janusian’s accent was entertaining, and at least it was a subject he could speak on. "It’s said that Blackheart wasn’t trying to overthrow the king after all," Armegon said remembering what Tyson told him. "I’ve heard that Blackheart's plan was to lure the god of war into a confrontation."

"So’ve I," the Janusian replied. "What’s the outcome?"

"Rumor has it that the villain killed the god of war and took his place."

"Villain?" the centaur asked. "You take a big risk speakin’ like that ‘bout a god."

Armegon thought it was time for a little bravado. "I don’t fear that one. If needs be I’ll fight him."

The Janusian grinned. He took the wine bottle and poured himself a glass. "Call y’friends over," he said. "I’ll share drink with you, O tempter of gods, for y’life might be short."

The road that evening seemed to take on a different air. Fresh scents of wild flowers and starry skies heralded a warm breeze--the sure sign that the summer year was fast approaching.

Yoan, the centaur they had met in the village, was traveling with them. He was a grandson of a lord of the Janus Valley--one of the tribal chiefs--in which the centaurs lived their quiet lives. Dahr, the former god of war had been their patron, but now they were watched over by the god Apollo. They had a deep hatred for Ragnera and any enemy who would publicly denounce Ragnera was a friend in their eyes.

Yoan promised to deliver them to the Glade, the central dwelling of his people. It was not a city or town as they knew it. And on the misty morning when they topped the rim of the Janus Valley and looked down into the serene and beautiful vale, they understood why.

The Glade was a collection of huge lean-to and wigwam clusters. Giant teepees among the trees and along the white water river shore gave the illusion of a large village, but the place was totally mobile.

Their young guide told them that within an hour's time, no trace of the village Glade's existence save for tracks in the dirt would be left should the order to move out come. He explained that there were several Glades in the Janus Valley which ran many leagues to the north from there. He told them that once each year the lord of each Glade travels to Mount Gale for a conference. There the centaurs maintained a shrine where they kept the race's treasures in secret.

The morning breaking over the Savanah Mountains in the east brought the sleepy Glade to life slowly. Young centaurs could be seen galloping to and fro playing in the morning dew. Older centaurs went about chores and business as Yoan and his guests entered the dwelling of the horsemen.

Many of the centaurs had seen humans and halfelves before, but very very few had seen a minotaan. Ruk found himself the center of an awful lot of attention. Small centaurs, barely more than babies trotted along side the wagon as they approached the main cluster of dwellings.

"It’d be best if y’dismounted," Yoan advised. "My people’ve nothing against using horses to do work y’ain’t capable of doing, but riding at a walk’ll get you where y’re going no faster than walking y’selves. They consider it taking a’vantage of a creature who, though rather dumb, is somewhat of a relative."

Ruk voiced his understanding and began to dismount. "No," Yoan said. "Unless y’can and intend to pull that wagon, y’can stay mounted."

"Then perhaps if I lead them from the ground?"

"That’d be alright," Yoan said.

Leaving their horses to graze at the edge of the Glade, they walked along with the wagon behind Yoan. Calista and Avery were the shortest of the group, and found that with the exception of the very very young, all the centaurs were taller than them as well.

Yoan led them to a large clearing next to a giant teepee that towered up to half the size of the tall pines that inhabited the place. Yoan bade them stay put while he spoke to his grandfather. He then entered the structure leaving the five comrades to be stared upon by the curious eyes of the centaur population.

Though it seemed like hours to Calista, it was in fact only a few moments before Yoan reemerged followed by an older centaur with a long white tail and gray beard. His clothes were gray and a blanket draped across his shoulders and down his back to hang from his flanks.

"This is perfect," Ultrecht whispered to Armegon. "A hidden valley where we can receive sanctuary and aid away from the eyes of Blackpuss." He continued. "Not only that, but allies and a place to operate from should the need arise."

"Hold it," Avery interrupted. "We’re not about to use these people. You know what kind of enemies we tend to make. If Blackheart..."

"Blackpuss," Ultrecht corrected him.

"Okay, Blackpuss then. If Blackpuss locates us, he’s going to hit this place with everything he has and with his new godly status he just might wipe these people out. We can't be here to protect them all the time."

"Avery's right," Armegon agreed. "This’s our war. Let's not involve them in it any more than is necessary."

The elder centaur motioned for Armegon to approach. Armegon did so and soon stood before the Chief of the Glade as Yoan titled him.

"Oh," the chief smiled at Armegon. "The elven blood in you is very strong. It sings in y’mind, doesn't it? Not like the c’panion over there," he commented to Yoan. "His elven blood’s weak and a dif’rent song sings in his heart."

Armegon was unimpressed. Any knowledgeable person could see that Avery took after his human half and he himself took after his elven half. Neither was it hard to see that Armegon was a mage and so was very intelligent. Avery, a healer was compassionate. Yoan could have told the old man this before they had emerged.

"Skeptical," the aged centaur announced. Then he laughed, a hearty laugh. Though older, he was still strong. He turned back to Armegon. "So y’re the one that humiliated Blackheart in the wasteland of Gly-ou-vogue."

Startled gasps went up around the camp. Not all of them were centaurs'. That was information that not even Ruk had been told.

"Have no fear," the chief urged. "I only wish we could treat y’to a hero's feast. But I’m ‘fraid the time draws near f’us to relocate, for the game in this area has drawn scarce and needs time to replenish itself."

Yoan smiled and clapped Armegon on the shoulder. "Y’re among friends here."

"Aye," the antiquated centaur confirmed. "Would y’please do me the honor of sharin’ a day of talk. Please come inside."

Armegon motioned the others, and they all followed him into the teepee. "Is what he said true?" Ruk asked of Ultrecht. "Armegon is the one who defeated Blackheart and his warlock brother in the wasteland?"

"Yes," Ultrecht answered. "How do you think your ex-captain would fare against him now?" Ruk gave no answer. He simply stared at the half elf's back in a new light.

Inside the teepee, the chief urged them all to join him as he seated himself by folding his four legs up under his body. The others sat cross-legged around the central support. The structure held a fire bowl which was a large collection of smooth stones. The stones were arranged in a shallow depression and contained several week's worth of cinders and ash. No fire was present at the time.

"So," the chief began, "tell me y’story."

Armegon began with their arrival in the new world. He kept very close to the truth except for Marlena's fate and Sam's conception. For that part, he stuck to his cursed-maiden-who-died-in-childbirth story. Ultrecht did an excellent job of controlling Avery's irritation of Armegon's falsehood. When Armegon spoke of his battle in the wasteland, the ancient centaur beamed approvingly.

"Oh, if only y’d slain him," the elder exclaimed.

Armegon continued by describing Sam's upbringing. He described their life at the ranch and their journey north. When he told the tale of Calista's entry into the story, Calista broke into tears and the kind old centaur put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

Armegon told of the trial and the meeting of Avery. At the mention of Avery's ability to divine the truth, the chief nodded respectfully. "A handy talent," he commended.

Finally Armegon spoke of the treachery of Tyson and their desperate search for the Emerald Monocerus. At the mention of this the chief's eyes widened and it was clear to everyone that the existence of the rumored creature was known among the Janusians.

"Have you seen such a creature?" Armegon asked.
The chief thought for a moment. "I haven’t seen the green unicorn, but I know of someone who has." He put his strong but gentle hand to Calista's face and gazed into her eyes.

"Only love could lead a family ‘cross half the world in search of a myth. I’ll send y’to someone who can help, but first I can at least offer a night's rest."

The next morning they set out again with Yoan as guide. They headed up the valley towards Mount Gale where they were to meet the leader of all the tribes of the Janus Valley. Yoan told them that he was very old and just as wise.

They left the Glade behind them and traveled comfortably through the widely spaced foliage. The ground was covered by soft grass already beginning to show shoots of green in anticipation of the coming summer year. The widely spaced trees and the green meadows were a result of generations of Janusian's care, Yoan told them.

Calista likened it to a giant never ending garden. Ruk agreed. He even inquired about how the Janusians felt about outsiders settling in the valley. Yoan stated that it was not encouraged, but his people refused to recognize private property and, therefore a settler would have to deal with the migratory habits of the valley's nomadic citizens. "Most settlers want t’plant crops or something of the sort," he said. "A glade of my people might drift through one day and pick a field clean of crops. In our eyes it’s not stealing but simply takin’ what’s needed; no more and no less."

By sunset, the six were tired, but not fatigued. The valley tended to be very refreshing to the spirit. Yoan assured them that no dangerous wild creatures dwelt in the valley save a few wolves and some birds of prey, "but they’re necessary to any environment," he reminded them. Still, Avery insisted that they set up a watch. He in turn reminded Yoan that they had very powerful enemies.

The precaution proved unnecessary, though, as the night passed uneventfully as did the next three days and nights. They rode through two more Glades of Janusians as they travelled. At the end of the fourth day of travel, they could make out the towering peak of Mount Gale glistening in the light of the setting suns.

The next morning they broke camp and made the final leg of their journey to the Glade of Gale. Yoan told them that this was as close to a permanent settlement of centaurs as his people made. It was actually very small. That, they were told, was because a large population could not feed off the nearby land very long.

About a dozen small lodges formed the balance of the small village. Yoan told them that every year the lords of the valley, the chiefs, would gather here for a week. During that week they would plan and talk. The rest of the time, as was their case, unusual circumstances would be handled as they arose.

Yoan finished his oration long before they entered the small village. They rode the last ten minutes or so in silence. Only two of the inhabitants were visible when they emerged from the woods.

Remembering what they had been told, everyone dismounted and walked the rest of the way with Ruk leading the wagon horses. Yoan asked the travellers to wait outside while he entered the lodge.

"Didn't we just go through this six days ago?" Ultrecht commented dryly.

"This time we are going to see the head cheese," Armegon replied.

"I hate head cheese," Ruk gagged playfully.

Avery glanced sideways at the minotaan. "My god, it's already started."

"What's started?" Ruk asked.

"You've already picked up that sick sense of humor that seems to manifest itself in people who hang out with these two for too long," Avery said indicating Armegon and Ultrecht.