Chapter 15 Part 1

THE HIGH SEAS

Dylan’s studies continued as usual. Gage saw to that. And after a day or two, the excitement of the voyage wore off, leaving the monotony of life on the sea. Dylan quickly discovered that when at sea, a sailor’s life revolved around routine and boredom. In his opinion, there was no question as to why sailors were famous for revelry when in port. There was a lot of pent up energy to dispense.

Dylan made a few notes in his spell book. He had quickly learned that the book was not meant to hold only spells, but also several other types of information. Gage had taught him a new power word to use in spell preambles, and he was recording the word, its characteristics, and the mage script character that represented the power.

Crystal and Cindy had set up shop near the bow. They spent hours each day talking about Crystal’s craft. Dylan sat nearby one afternoon and listened in as he pretended to read a text. Crystal’s lectures revolved around the alchemical properties of various plants, animal parts and minerals. Her occupation in acquisition of such items made it necessary for her to know where they could be obtained.

“Youse a learning letters?” the boson asked him one afternoon as he was looking through a book. Gage had given him a research assignment.

Dylan wasn’t so sure that he really liked the boson. The man was very crass and his speech was atrocious. He seemed honest and fair, though. Dylan tried not to let first impressions make him biased, but it was a difficult task. “Yes sir,” he answered. “It’s necessary for my education and training.”

“I ‘magine so,” the mad agreed. “D’you know the Minotaan?”

Dylan involuntarily looked up from his book and spotted Rathe standing by the helm of the ship. He was not interfering, but he did seem to be interested in what was taking place. “Yes, I know him. He’s in my master’s service as well.”

The boson nodded. “If’n you wants to get a useful education and you plans to be at sea often, I suggest you get him to teach you to navigate. The Minotaans are the best.”

It was not the first time that Dylan had heard some reference to Minotaan Navigation. And as the boson made some off color remarks about useful things to know, Dylan decided to take up the man’s recommendation. But first he would have to speak with his master. After all, he was supposed to be studying, not socializing.

Dylan politely pretended to listen to the Boson’s oration until a deck hand’s slipshod performance caught the old sailor’s eye and he went off to reeducate the worker in high seas fashion, which consisted of loud meaningless words and a lot of browbeating. Then Dylan closed his book and walked the length of the ship to the stairs leading downward. He found his master sitting in the galley, also reading a book and making notes.

“Good morning,” Gage greeted his pupil as the young man approached. “How have your studies been going?”

“Well, sir,” Dylan answered. “But I’ve got a question.”

Gage nodded and closed his book. He pushed his work aside and gave his student his full attention. “You were reviewing those new power symbols,” he recalled. “What is your question?”

“Oh, master, it’s not the magic, but something the boson said that I want to ask about.”
Gage’s eyebrow rose sharply, something that Dylan had long learned meant that Gage was curios and puzzled. “Oh?” the mage asked. “What would that be?”

“On several occasions, I’ve heard people make reference to Minotaans and their skill at navigation. If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to Rathe about it and try to learn some things.”

The elf smiled sympathetically. “I am sorry Dylan, but that would be a waste of time,” he told the youth. “Rathe will not tell you any more than I can. The Minotaan Navigators are very secretive about their art.”

“Are they really that good?”

“Absolutely,” Gage answered. “They use a limited form of magic. It is a simple spell that allows them to locate an object that they know very well. The Minotaan Navigators have a series of enchanted items that they have buried along the coast lines and anchored at the bottom of the seas throughout the world. They can use their skills to measure the distance to these items very accurately. From that they can determine their position very precisely. The practice is not secret, but the identity of the enchanted items is. They only tell those who join their ranks.”

“Do humans ever learn the art?”

“Not really,” Gage told him, “It has happened but it is extremely rare. For the most part only Minotaans are allowed to learn their art. They do not trust many people.”

“I guess it wouldn’t do to ask him to teach me,” Dylan supposed.

“You can ask, and he might tell you some useful things, but he will not tell you the secret of the Sea Markers.”

“’Sea Markers?’”

“That is what the Minotaans call the magical items that they have placed all over the world and they use to navigate from. But you have my permission to take some time to ask him more about it, provided you do not neglect your studies for too long. I want those characters recorded in your spell book by the end of the day.”

“Thank’s master,” Dylan grinned and then fled the galley. He ran upstairs looking for Rathe. He found the deep red skinned giant talking with Coran near the helm. Dylan approached and stood nearby respectfully awaiting a chance to speak.

It did not take long as Coran and his huge companion were only engaged in small talk. “And here is Gage’s prodigy,” Coran announced when it became apparent that Dylan was not just walking about. “How are your studies?”

“They’re doing well enough,” Dylan answered politely. He could see Velar standing near the stern of the ship. He was still a bit uneasy around the disguised dragon even though he knew that Velar had sworn, and had proven capable of seeing to his welfare.

“Actually, I was wanting to ask Rathe some questions about navigation,” Dylan added. “Many of the crew seem to hold a reverence for Minotaan Navigators.”

“Reverence?” Coran choked. “Respect I can see, but ‘reverence’ might be a little too strong.”

“Leave the boy be,” Rathe gruffed. He knelt to one knee before Dylan. Even so, he towered above Dylan. “What is it you’d like to know, kid?”

“How is it that your people are so well known for navigation?” Dylan decided to play innocent and not reveal what his master had told him. Maybe Rathe would offer up more than expected.

Rathe studied Dylan for a few moments. “Hmmm,” he began. “Well, I guess I can tell you a few things that you might be able to grasp. But I’m afraid that the art is forbidden to outsiders. You might be able to learn it, but only if you spend a year or so on Minota as a student, and only then if the elders find you worthy. I’m sorry about that.”

“I understand,” Dylan admitted. He had not really expected Rathe to tell him the secret. “Then what can you tell me?”

“Well, I’ll tell you what. Let me think about it and I’ll decide what I can tell you without violating my oath of secrecy. Ask me again in a few days, okay?”

Dylan nodded. “Thanks Rathe,” he exclaimed and then went back to the front of the ship to work on his studies. He spent the rest of the afternoon working, and it wasn’t until Velar interrupted him later that he realized how much time had passed.

“Perchance are you hungry?” Velar asked as he knelt on the deck where Dylan was seated. “Your master has tasked me to inquire if you would join them for supper. What shall I reply?”

“Huh?” Dylan asked reflexively. Then as he took in his surroundings and the apparent time of the day, he answered: “Oh, thanks Velar. I suppose it’s about that time.”

Velar nodded his agreement. “Sup will wait for a brief interval,” he said shortly. “I have a question. Do you fear me?”

Dylan was not going to lie. “Yes,” he said hanging his head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t help it.”
Velar sighed and nodded his understanding. “It is of little consequence,” he decided. “Be at peace, boy, for I will neither harm you nor let serious harm come to you. I assume the form before your eyes for just such a motive. I do not wish to frighten people. In fact, I very much like people.”

“For supper?” Dylan asked, with a hint of humor.

Velar roared a totally human sounding laugh. “I like you Dylan,” he told the apprentice. “You have heart and spirit, and a fine head on your shoulders. Let us hope that that does not change anytime too soon.”

Velar helped the boy to his feet. “No, I have never consumed by mouth a man or woman. It is against my people’s code to eat sentient beings.”

“I’ve heard stories of dragons that eat people,” Dylan argued.

“Ah, but my people those are not. I herald from the family of dragons hailed as the Luster. We are loyally subordinate to a great dragon whose name must be kept secret. But when he is in his natural form, his scales glimmer like polished platinum in the noon sun. The leader of my own clan has scales of gold and my father possessed scales of bright bronze. Mine are steel, for that is how I was born into this world. It is a two edged sword. For though I will never rule or rise to a position of power among my people, I enjoy more freedom than most dragons. I entertain the luxury to come and go among men as I see fit.”

“So who eats people?”

“Alas, those are the Chromatics. They are a family that is totally devoid of scruples. And while it is true that my people have at times slain men who have threatened our lives or holdings, we have a proud tradition of never eating their flesh. The Chromatics are a different tale altogether. They will eat whatever they take a fancy to, which includes, unfortunately, men.”

The conversation made Dylan a little more at ease around Velar. He still held a deep rooted respect borne partly out of fear for the disguised dragon, but Velar had made it quite clear that he held no ill will towards any of them and Dylan still kept in mind that Velar had volunteered to be his protector. Who could have asked for better?

Later that night, Dylan and Gage were reviewing his lessons. Gage seemed quite satisfied with the young man’s work, and told him so quite bluntly. The spells were correct, the book was in order, and Dylan had quickly grasped the basis for each spell, the command words and had accurately balanced the power equations.

“To be honest, my boy,” Gage praised, “your work is as good as many journeymen are. Your apprenticeship may not last as long as you think.” Dylan had been studying as an apprentice for over a year. Most apprentices study for up to four years before becoming journeymen. Some, usually the brighter ones, make it in three years. By Gage’s reckoning, Dylan would probably be ready for the tests in his third year. But he saw no reason to tell the boy that. He did not want to raise false expectations.

They ate together after the lesson review and then Dylan and Cindy returned to the upper deck. Some of the hands were trimming the sails, and several large lanterns had been mounted on the lower booms of the masts. That was necessary to provide light, because the moons were not visible due to the cloudy skies. A breeze had kicked up and Dylan and Cindy stood at the railing near the bow as they gazed into the darkness at the distant horizon. Flashes of lightning far ahead of them periodically illuminated the point where the sea met the sky.

“It looks like the weather’s gonna get a bit bad, tonight,” Cindy suggested. “I hope the water isn’t too rough. It’s hard enough to sleep when the boat’s moving around, but if the water gets rough, it might be impossible.”

Dylan and Cindy stood quietly watching the remote lighting. A warm breeze blew against them and in the half light, Cindy grasped Dylan’s hand. It was not the first time that they had shared unspoken feelings, but this time, she also leaned close to him and lay her head against his shoulder. Dylan had grown quite a bit of late and was half a head taller than his childhood companion. Almost instinctively he leaned back against her, feeling the warmth of her body. He felt his own breath getting short and was more than a little disappointed when Crystal called to them from the main hatchway. Cindy’s teacher urged them to go below and try to get some sleep. She said that sleep may get difficult later, echoing Cindy’s fears.

Reluctantly, Dylan released Cindy’s hand and they both turned to go, but at the last moment the girl, threw her arms around his neck and drew herself up on her toes to plant a hard kiss to his lips. There was a bit of fire in that kiss and Dylan fell into a long embrace with her.

The kiss may have only lasted a few seconds, but a world of conversation took place on a nonverbal level. Cindy let him know in no uncertain terms that she was more than the girl he had befriended, and her womanhood was in full bloom. Dylan also noted that his own body had responded in spite of his bashfulness. He felt sure that Cindy took notice as well.

When the embrace ended, both adolescents stood there holding hands and gazing at each other with adoration and abandonment. They remained so for many long moments until Crystal again returned to the deck and came forward to reign in her charge. Then she sent Dylan to his own quarters.

The huntress made a mental note to have a talk with Gage the next day. The two youths were growing up fast and some ground rules might be in order before things got out of hand.

Dylan woke sometime during the night. The ship was tossing and heaving quite dramatically. He felt himself being rolled up against the side of the ship where his cot was mounted with one swell, and then rolled to the other side of the cot with a threat to fall onto the floor when the swell passed.

The lamp in the room was on and swinging from its hook on the wall. Gage was sitting beneath and to one side trying to mend an article of clothing. The mage looked up when Dylan sat up.

“It is difficult to sleep in these conditions is it not?” his master offered in greeting.

“Is it the storm that we saw earlier?” Dylan asked. He rubbed his eyes. It was going to be more than difficult to sleep, it was going to be impossible.

“Yes,” Gage told him. The mage tossed what appeared to be a sheet to him. “The captain issued these hammocks. They are old and torn, but if we repair them, we can sleep in them. They will stay pretty stable while the boat rocks. It should help.”

Dylan spread the sheet out on his knees. There was a big rip in the center, and the thing was quite old and threadbare. “Master, I’m not sure this can be fixed, and even if it is, it’s pretty thin.”

“Yes, it is thin,” Gage agreed, “but it should do, at least for a while, and as for repairing it, that you can do with a needle and thread.”

Dylan rustled through the sheet hopelessly. “I don’t suppose there’s an easier way to do this is there?”

Gage put his sewing down and studied his student. “What do you suggest?”

Dylan shrugged. “I suppose I’m suggesting that there might be some magic that you
could do.”

“I am sorry, Dylan,” Gage apologized, “but I am not aware of any sewing spells.”

“Well, I don’t mean that,” Dylan tried to explain. “I mean that surely there are some spells that we could alter to do the job. I mean the function is very similar to some other spells.”

Gage put his sewing aside, and picked up Dylan’s spell book that had been placed on the counter while they slept. He passed the book to Dylan. “Okay,” he urged. “You put the spell together and we will consider it.”

Dylan took his book and yawned. More work was not what he had had in mind when he had suggested using magic to mend the hammock. But now that Gage had made the assignment official, he was duty bound to comply.

Dylan took some parchment and sat at the counter. He found that the charcoal stick that he used for writing was far better than a quill and inkwell on a tossing ship. And while Gage continued his meager chore, Dylan started to work on the spell.

As he had said, the function for the spell he needed was pretty much the same as for several other spells he had been shown. One of those spells was an entanglement spell that was on a scroll in his pack. His master had given it to him to be used in self-defense. The spell was supposed to entangle enemies in vines, ropes, wire, cloth or whatever was handy. All he had to do was make some slight alterations to the function, recalculate its value, and alter the preamble, direction, closure and conclusion to accommodate the changes. After about three hours, he had a balanced equation and he proudly held up the parchment for his master’s approval.

When Dylan turned to announce his success, he found Gage swinging from his hammock quietly watching him. “And that,” the mage said softly, “is yet another lesson. Sometimes it is better to do things by hand than by magic. It took me less than half the time to mend this as it took you to derive that spell. Magic is not always the best way to do things.”

Dylan felt a bit sheepish. He was glad of the spell he had derived, but the purpose of the lesson had a greater impact on him. His master was absolutely right. If he had taken up a thread and needle, he could have been sleeping almost two hours ago.

Briefly, Dylan thought that his master was going to make him sew anyway. But as Dylan pricked a finger trying to thread a needle, Gage took pity on the boy and with a wave of his hand he sealed the hammock’s rip closed.

Dylan was not so taken aback that he missed a very important detail. His master hand not even looked at the spell he had derived. “Master,” he asked a bit upset, “what spell was that?”

“It was not a spell,” Gage informed his pupil. “It was a simple binding cantrip that I taught you several months ago. I wanted to see if you would think of using it. You have disappointed me, but not too terribly. I am pleased at how you adapted the entangle spell, I just wish you had given more thought to making use of what you have before going to look for things you do not have.”

Dylan hung his head. “I’m sorry master. I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

Gage nodded. “Very well,” he said. “I also want to make sure that you are clear in one thing more. You did very well in that spell derivation, but that is not a license to manufacture spells on your own. And there is to be no unauthorized spell casting. Is that clear?”

“Yes, master,” Dylan agreed as he hung the repaired hammock between to columns. He had a little difficulty getting into the hammock. Every time he tried to climb into it, he would lose his balance and fall out again. The thing would not remain steady and the best he could do was to drape his body across the hammock and try to spread it out beneath him without flopping over. He almost succeeded too, and he probably would have conquered the darn thing except that a large swell rocked the boat at a crucial moment and sent him tumbling to the deck.

His pride was hurt, but that was all. And when he stood, he spied his master laying back watching him. Dylan sighed, “it’s not as easy as it looks is it?”

"It would be if you would use your balancing cantrip,” Gage answered. “You are beginning to worry me, son. You understand the theory, but your ability to apply it is slow in developing. Try it again.”

Dylan paused, and tried to concentrate on the balancing cantrip that he had been taught. He had some difficulty. The rebuke that his master had just given him had crushed his confidence and he could even feel tears welling up in his eyes.

Gage observed his student struggling and realized that the minor criticism may have hit his apprentice a little harder than intended. “It is nothing to be upset about,” he told the young man. “You are only human, and I suppose that it was about time for you to be less than perfect. Do not worry. As you learn, you will overcome this little fault.”

Dylan nodded, and prepared once again to cast the cantrip, but before he could, he felt himself being lifted up from the floor and gently lowered onto the hammock. When he was comfortably situated, Gage explained. “I decided that if I was going to get any sleep, I had better take a little action.”

“Levitation?” Dylan asked.

“No,” the master answered. “Telekinesis. It is draining and difficult, but I thought we could spare the power.”

“What’s the difference,” Dylan asked. “I’ve seen both spells, and they seem to be almost the same.”

“They pretty much are. The difference is simply a point of reference. Levitation is a reflexive spell that affects the caster only. Telekinesis affects something other than the caster.”

The conversation ended soon after that. Dylan finally managed to drift off to sleep in spite of the tossing and rolling of the vessel.

His dreams were troubled. They drifted from scenes of Sandy Cove to his old room at the academy. From there, he seemed to be riding down endless stretches of road though forests.

At one point in the dream, he heard people yelling and there were rushed rumbling sounds. He seemed to hear people calling in panic as he rode in the wagon with his master.