Chapter 10 Part 2

The next week, Dylan spent the day riding and listening to stories and conversation. Some of it he had heard before, some of it he did not understand, and some of it he found captivating.

There were also the reading assignments. Gage, as usual, had something for him to study every day. He was quizzed on it each night and given a new assignment the next morning. Though boring and tedious, it did make the leagues and days pass by quickly. Soon enough they were on the outer fringes of the great northern city of Tycho.

Tycho was unlike any city that Dylan had visited yet. Not only were the majority of the inhabitants dwarves and elves, but also the city was partly built in the tops of huge trees and also in partly buried, low roofed stone dwellings. The architecture was artistic in design and very secluded. One had to actually look for structures to see them.

There were some buildings that followed traditional construction styles. Gage told him that those were the buildings where the Duke of Tycho held court as well as the Northern Archives and various other places. Most of the rest of the city conformed to either elven or dwarven building styles.

They passed through the outer parts of the city and wound their way through the groves and stone structures until they reached one particular stone building beside a well-traveled cobblestone street.

“It’s about time,” Rathe muttered as they tethered their animals at a hitching post. He wasted no time and ducked low to squeeze through the entrance.

Dylan dismounted and followed Gage, Avery and Coran into the low cut building. He was not a very tall boy, but even he could almost reach the ceiling in the doorway with little effort. It was almost a miracle that Rathe had gotten in at all.

Once inside, however, Dylan noted that the floor was actually several feet below ground level. The interior was roomy enough for Rathe to stand upright, if just barely.

Dylan followed his master to a large table that Rathe had confiscated. He had drawn several looks of irritation, but little else. Dylan concluded that, although not common, the sight of a Minotaan was not unheard of in Tycho.

“Good day to you my friends,” a deep voice greeted them from the far side of the room. A heavyset man with a deep red beard streaked with gray highlights approached. “I haven’t see you in a long time Gage,” the dwarf addressed Dylan’s master. “You should visit more often.”

“Good business to you Regalus,” Gage laughed. “It is amazing you are still alive.”

“Oh, I’m only about two hundred or so. I still have a good fifty years left.”

“Tell me my friend,” Rathe laughed. “Is the gray in your beard the result of your advancing age, or your new wife?”

The Dwarf rolled his eyes. “If only I’d known what I was getting into,” he complained with false dread. “And you, Rathe, are hiding from your own wives?”

Rathe grunted. “I left both of them pregnant,” he confided. “My father insists that that’s the best time to leave home.”

“You’d be well advised not to let Crystal, Calista or Nikki hear that particular comment,” Regalus cautioned.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Rathe agreed.

“Fine, so what will you folks be dining on tonight,” the dwarf asked. “The steamed vegetables are very good tonight as well as the wild turkey.”

Everyone sat around the table and voiced their requests. When Dylan asked for a bit of turkey, the dwarf looked at him critically. “Hmmm,” he began, “who would like to claim this little addition to your entourage?”

“He is mine,” Gage laughed. “This is Dylan, my apprentice. Dylan,” Gage introduced him, “this is Regalus, a long time friend of the family.”

The dwarf gave Dylan a firm pat on the back. “Welcome then, boy.” He laughed and his beard jiggled with every move. Then he turned and left.

It wasn’t long before a server brought cups and water to the table. The server was an elf maiden who, as far as Dylan could tell, was in the latter years of adolescence.

“We’ll move on in the morning,” Avery announced. “Rathe and I will give Mr. Thundersledge a hand on the way to the far west. I’ll check things out in Pandara and Haganaw. Then I’ll pass through Topas on the way back. In fact,” the ranger supposed, “I may swing by Mount Gale and see how some friends are faring. Then I’ll come back by way of a desert ship.”

“I’ll come back with Mr. Thundersledge,” Rathe countered. “I should be passing through here within a month. Then I’ll move on to Nikki’s cabin.”

“We will probably go with you,” Gage claimed. “By that time Dylan will be sick of studying.”

“And you’ll be hungry for mother’s cooking again,” Coran teased.

“Well, Uncle Ultrecht should be back around that time. I want to hear what he discovers.”

“I suppose I should go with you,” Coran decided. “But until then, I’ve got some things to do here.” Saying that Coran stood. “I leave you to your meal. I need to run some errands and see if my home’s still standing.” He turned to Gage. “The guest rooms are yours. I’ll see to it that the door’s left open.”

“Thank you Coran,” Gage said. “We will be along shortly.

After Coran left, the server arrived with their food. Avery, Rathe and Gage spoke quietly and sparingly throughout the meal. Dylan finished his supper and waited patiently for Gage to finish his. Then when they were done, Gage bade farewell to his father and Rathe, and with Dylan in tow departed the tavern called the Red Horizon.

“Coran, being one of the few humans in Tycho,” Gage explained, “lives in a house near the Northern Archives. That will be an excellent place for you to study.”

“What will I be concentrating on while we are here,” Dylan asked.

“We will continue with the study of magic, but I also will be assigning you several research projects in geography, metallurgy and theology.

“Theology?” Dylan asked.

“More or less. To be more correct, it will be religious history,” Gage elaborated. “Not as in depth as the acolytes of the temple learn it, but enough for you to understand the basics.”

Dylan followed his master back to Coran’s home. It was, as Gage had told him, a house of the like that Dylan was familiar. Gage entered and directed Dylan to a small room near the rear of the building. Then he showed Dylan where he could find fresh water, the privy, and where they would meet each morning.

Dylan was left alone to the fading light of day. Gage had assigned him light reading and the room was well stocked with candles. Dylan was reluctant to begin. He was in the Dukedom of Tycho. It was a mysterious and wonderful place that he had heard stories about and he would rather be out and about exploring. But Dylan was an obedient apprentice and finally, after about an hour of procrastination he settled down at the small desk with his studies.

The next morning, Dylan rose and cleaned himself. He went to the kitchen where he found Coran drinking a dark aromatic liquid. Coran was dressed in shining steel chain mail covered with a tabard emblazoned with the city crest of Tycho. At his side were a large shield, similarly decorated, and a huge broadsword.

“Good morning,” Coran greeted the youth. “There’s some coffee in that small kettle if you’re interested. There are grits in the larger pot.”

“I’ve never had coffee,” Dylan admitted, “but I used to eat grits every day before I was taken to the Academy.”

“Well make yourself at home,” Coran told the boy as the soldier gathered his belongings. “I must be off. I’ll be back later this afternoon.”

“Thank you,” Dylan said as the dark human left the house.

Coran departed and Dylan helped himself to the breakfast. He was well into his second helping when Gage entered the room. “Has Coran left?”

“Yes master,” Dylan answered. “He told us to make ourselves at home.”

Gage nodded and poured himself some of Coran’s coffee. “Well this morning we will start by visiting the Northern Archives. I want to point out some maps of which I would like for you to make copies. Then we will go to the Red Horizon for lunch.”

They finished their breakfast and Dylan washed the dishes while Gage thumbed through his spell book. Dylan had seen the item many times, but Gage had long ago warned him that most mages placed protective wards on their spell books. He had all but forbidden Dylan from touching it. The master had told his apprentice that he could carry the book, but he strongly warned against opening it.

Dylan spent that morning looking at large maps of the world. At Gage’s direction, he took several large sheets of paper and made tracings of the maps. Gage told him that it would not only familiarize him with the world, but it was always a good idea to have maps of places where you were traveling, and the Northern Archives were famous for having the best maps in the world.

By midday, Dylan and Gage left the Northern Archives, a place vaguely resembling the Great Library of Allentown. They went back to the same place where they had eaten the night before. They were served a meal of flat round beef patties between two slices of bread with cool vegetable matter and spices in the form of a sandwich.

After lunch, Gage took Dylan back to Coran’s house where Dylan was lectured in detail about the branch of magic known as necromancy. Gage admitted that their recent encounters with the undead partly influenced his decision to discuss the topic, as it was possible that they would be concerned with it in the future.

The concepts were simple, but frightening to Dylan. Necromancy was, in part, the process of reviving the dead with demonic or diabolic aid. The spells seemed simple enough, but Dylan felt strangely dirty after going through the ceremonies and actions that invoked the dead back to the state of the undead.

Gage did not miss the involuntary shudders and expressions of disgust on his apprentice’s face. Some of the spells utilized radical rituals that would make any good natured person balk. “This kind of magic makes you uncomfortable?” Gage asked his pupil.

Dylan knew better than to lie. “Yes, sir.” He stammered a bit. “I, it gives me a bad feeling.”

“That is normal,” Gage told him. “Many of the spell rituals and components are very repulsive, but you must keep in mind that magic itself is not evil. A mage with good intentions can still summon a demon or devil to animate a corpse for a good reason, and there are many necromantic spells that are good, healing is an example.”

“Would you give me an example?” Dylan asked. “I mean of why a good person might revive the dead?”

“Do you know what a mummy is?”

“Yes, sir. I have heard of them.”

“The most common use of the undead for good reasons are mummies. They are strictly controlled and almost always used solely to defend a tomb from being robbed or disturbed. When a very wealthy or powerful person dies, sometimes his family has the body mummified and enchanted so that if the tomb is ever disturbed, the corpse will reanimate to defend the tomb and its possessions.”

“I thought mummies were monsters that rampaged out of control,” Dylan admitted.
Gage shook his head. “Sometimes if the spell is not properly bound, the demon or devil trapped in the corpse, gets out of control and then the mummy does go on a rampage. The same thing happens with golems on occasion.”

“But golems aren’t undead,” Dylan pointed out.

“That is true, but it is necromancy that animates them.”

Dylan continued to take his lessons in the same manner for weeks. Each morning he would be given an assignment in research at the Archives, and in the afternoon, he would study magic.

On several occasions, there would be a break in the routine when Coran would take Dylan away from Gage, claiming the boy needed a break. Although Dylan was loyal to his master, he was very much grateful for the interruptions. Gage made a fuss about the deviation from studies, but relented to Coran’s insistence.

Coran showed Dylan several of the sights of Tycho, and taught him a few skills to boot.
“There are many things that’re worth knowing that Gage won’t teach you,” Coran told the boy. “That’s because they aren’t magic.”

On the occasion when Coran rescued Dylan from his studies, he showed the apprentice how to tell direction and time by the positions of the stars and the sun. He also gave Dylan his first lesson in sword fighting, much to Gage’s chagrin.

Dylan was eager, but not heavily built or strong. His handling of the sword was clumsy and slow if not enthusiastic. Though the boy was disappointed, Dylan reluctantly accepted Coran’s suggestion that if he needed to learn to use a weapon, the quarterstaff would be his best option. “Mastery of the sword requires many long hours and years. Your time’s already committed to magic. You wouldn’t have time to study the sword. The staff, however, is an effective weapon and often can hold enchantments. Many magic users wield staffs.”

Dylan knew that Coran was speaking as a professional soldier, so he had to respect the man’s opinion, but he was more than a little disappointed that he would not get to use a sword.

The weeks that followed were not entirely all work. He, Gage and Coran had visited the Red Horizon often for meals. One night, Dylan had met a young elven girl about his own age. She was a little shorter and much thinner than he was. During some of his free time, Dylan found himself in her company often. They shared stories about each other’s lives.

The elf girl, Fewla, was very interested in Dylan’s life on the plantation. She asked him questions while they walked along the intertwined thick branches that the elves of Tycho called the upper avenues. She told Dylan about the elven culture and the history of the city and the strong relationship between elves and dwarves. She also introduced him to a friend of hers, Galena, a stout and short dwarven maiden. Dylan found the dwarven girl to be very friendly and open. They all passed many hours talking and laughing.

The growing friendships did not go unnoticed. Gage began to allow Dylan more free time. Coran urged the apprentice to see as much of his new friends as he could manage. “Only stay away from the abandoned mines to the west,” the soldier told him. “The mines are unkept, dangerous and often occupied by vagabonds and rogues on the run.”

“So what’ll we do today?” Galena asked one lazy afternoon. The trio sat on the edge of a platform about ten meters above the ground. The large tree was covered in walkways, rope bridges, and huts. The short, stout young female lay back and looked up into the upper branches. She wore a gray long tailed smock and had her hair tightly braided and coiled about her neck. Fewla stood leaning against a trunk of the tree wearing a green tunic and brown breeches. On their feet, both girls wore leather ankle high boots that Dylan had noticed was the fashion in Tycho.

“Let us go and visit the stables,” Fewla suggested. “I like to feed the colts, and I know where a shopkeeper dumps his unused vegetable parts.”

Galena was all for that idea. Dylan too thought that might be fun, so he and the girls descended the tree and made their way around the stone structures of the lower streets to the stables on the southwestern side of Tycho.

The stables were a maze of fences and gates. The ground was covered in sawdust, probably a byproduct from a nearby lumber mill. The animals themselves were in various states of training or grooming by the stable hands.

It was obvious that the feeding of the horses was a favorite past time among the city’s youth as there were several other groups of younger children there already. Fewla obtained permission from the stable master and they passed about a bag that Galena had fetched from down the street. Carrot tops and green stalks filled the bag. They were not fresh, but neither were they old.

The animals stabled were of a fair variety. Goats, llamas, horses, donkeys and ponies were the main stay of the stable, though and were the most popular. The animals were well accustomed to the daily attention, and seeing youths with bags approach the fence, the animals anxiously cantered over to partake of the coming goodies.

The visit to the stables became a regular activity for the threesome. Dylan would finish his studies with zeal, eagerly looking forward to spending time with his friends and the animals. At one point, Coran even gave the boy a gold coin to use in the receipt of riding lessons.

The girls also had chores to do, but they were domestic laborers and had the option of trading tasks with other workers to arrange to finish early for the afternoon activities. They dutifully met their new friend each day in the mid-afternoon and returned to the stables. Usually after the visit with the animals, they would stop by a nearby mountain stream to wade in the cold water or sit on the warm rocks. It was an activity that brought back memories to Dylan of his early days at the Academy with Cindy.

One lazy afternoon, they were slowly walking towards the stream on the western side of the city. As usual, Galena was talking about the morning gossip that she had heard at her job as a laundress’s apprentice. It was evident that most of the city’s underground news was spread in the form of gossip in the service shops, laundries, bakeries, and other small occupations.

Galena was recanting a story she had overheard about a town official urgently requesting the washing of a linen sheet that had been soiled. The gist of the story was that the official’s wife was away visiting relatives.

The trio was enjoying the warmth of a late afternoon sun just as it was about to sink below the jagged peaks of the Orkon mountain range. They talked and splashed water at each other well into the evening and it wasn’t until well after sunset when they decided to leave their spot.

Dylan and the girls walked back towards the main part of Tycho when Fewla pulled up short. She pointed to their left and the other two followed her gesture. From the tree line, a figure was staggering, obviously disoriented.

“A miner?” Fewla asked.

“No,” Galena answered as the dwarven girl started towards the figure. “Too tall, but whoever it is he’s hurt.”

Dylan paused as Fewla followed Galena towards the slumping figure leaning heavily on a nearby rock outcropping. Something puzzled him, but he could not decide what it was so he hurried to catch up with the girls.

The ground was inclined, and Dylan found himself huffing as he chased the girls. Fewla was very light and nimble, and Galena had the powerful legs and stamina of her dwarven heritage. Neither of them was tired out by the short climb. Dylan, being raised in flat lands, was not used to hilly terrain, and was finding it to be a very tasking climb.

Ahead of him, Fewla and Galena had reached the individual they had seen. Dylan wanted them to wait for him because the feeling he had felt was getting stronger, but before he could voice his concerns, he saw a scene unfold that made his blood run cold.

Galena was lucky. Her short stout legs were very powerful, and as the hooked boned fingers of the skeletal hand clawed out to grab her, she jumped backwards with a startled yelp.

Fewla was not so lucky. The clawed hand, having missed Galena, ripped into the elven girl’s arm, penetrating the skin and ripping deeply into her flesh. In its wake, the claw left cavernous harrowed furrows of blood and gore.

From the tattered rags wrapping the skeleton, the eyeless skull leaned forward with the jaw opening wide to reveal wickedly curved teeth.

Galena recovered quickly and grabbed a good-sized rock, about the size of her own head, and heaved the object at the monster. It struck just below the left hip, and Dylan heard the audible snap of bone breaking.

The skeleton fell to the ground releasing Fewla in the process. The elven girl staggered back trying vainly to staunch the squirting red stream pulsing from her mutilated arm. Her skin had gone white and her legs trembled.

Dylan reached Fewla and he dragged her back away from the skeleton that was desperately dragging itself towards her. Galena took Fewla’s good arm and helped her to stand.

Dylan and Galena carefully helped Fewla down the climb to the edge of the city. Galena urged them towards the stablemaster’s house so that they could get the elven girl some aid.

“Dylan,” Galena suggested, “you go find a guard and tell them what happened. Don’t worry about Fewla. She’ll be okay. I’ll see her home.”

“I’ll tell Coran,” Dylan decided. “And I’ll come by tomorrow and see how she is.”

Galena smiled. “That’s good. She’ll be wanting to see friends tomorrow.”

Dylan left and ran through the streets back to Coran’s house. He burst in on Gage and Coran sharing a drink. Breathless, he explained what had just transpired, and immediately Coran jumped and grabbed his sword and shield. He dashed out of the house urging his guests to remain inside.

Gage addressed his pupil. “I haven’t forbidden you from spending time with your friends because the contact with those of other races helps you to learn about them. But I’d prefer that you refrain from independent encounters with the menions of evil.”

Dylan almost laughed until a question came to his mind. “Master, are all undead evil?”

“Generally, yes,” Gage answered. Then he paused in his reading and studied his student.

“Why?”

“I’m wondering if the undead are evil, then the magic that makes them must be evil too.”

Gage chuckled. “That is a good question and many mages have argued over it many times. But we talked about this before. The answer is that magic is neither good nor evil.” He leaned back and closed his book. “Do you recall being told that the undead are animated corpses inhabited by either demons or devils?”

“Yes, sir.”

“It is the demon or devil animating the corpse that makes the undead evil.”

“Isn’t it possible for a benevolent spirit to inhabit a corpse and create a good undead?”

Gage nodded. “There is nothing to prevent it from happening,” he said, “but aside from mummies, which are a very special case, it will not happen. You see, good spirits inhabit the bodies of the living often. It is often the source of inspiration or a state of grace. Evil spirits can also descend upon a living body. But only the evil spirits will inhabit the dead. In the case of mummies, the mummy itself is evil, even though it is bound by spells to a good purpose.”

Gage could tell that his student was forming another question so he explained further. “You see, a living person can accept or reject the presence of a good or evil spirit, but the dead cannot. So a good spirit will not intrude where it is uninvited.”

Dylan understood. He thought about his master’s brief lecture and went to bed with wonder that at some times in the past has he ever been an unconsciously willing vessel for a good or evil spirit.