Broken Rule | Chapter 13
This post is chapter thirteen of my not-previously-published epic fantasy novel Broken Rule, which I'm serializing here on Steemit.
The story so far:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapters 3 & 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Jonas dropped a large tome on the dining room table where Rurik and Cyril would be able to easily reach it. It had become his custom to deliver the boys' lessons there, and the servants had taken the hint. A large plate of fruit and cheese waited for him. “I found this volume in your father's library. It's quite rare. It's a history of sorts, from the time before the rise of man.” He opened the book in the middle, so the boys could see the pages. A series of unusual symbols covered the page, nothing like any of the languages spoken in Tarkannan. “As you can see, it is written in Minauran. Minauros was the kingdom of the dwarves, master miners and builders, but long extinct now. Learning their language will allow you to read this book and perhaps other ancient volumes.”
Jonas saw the expression on Cyril's face. “Do you have something more important to do than attend to your studies, Cyril?” he asked.
“No, Master Jonas.”
“You don't seem to say that with much conviction.”
“Master Jonas, a knight doesn't need to read Minauran. He doesn't need to read this ancient history. If it was truly important, you could tell it to us in plain language.”
“If you wish to skip the lesson, I am sure the master at arms will not object to you spending some more time in the practice yard.”
“Truly?”
“Go on, before I change my mind.”
Cyril took the opportunity to depart.
“I want to learn about the time before the rise of man, Master Jonas,” offered Rurik.
“I suspected you would. Now, Minauran isn't like our language. In some ways it is simpler and more elegant, and in others it's more complex. The first thing to note is that each letter stands for a single syllable, unlike our tongue. And that means that there are many more letters in the alphabet, but each word is shorter. You see how many of the words in the text have only a few letters in them?”
“Yes, Master Jonas.”
“Good. Here is the first letter of their alphabet. It sounds like 'yahn'. Try it.”
Jonas slammed the book shut, their lesson completed, his plate long since picked clean. Rurik got up to run off to whatever boyish pursuit he had dreamed up for the evening, but Jonas stopped him. The duke's plans had been running through Jonas's mind ever since they'd had their discussion on the walls, but he had come no closer to deciding what part he wished to play. He had always been an outside observer in the politics of his patrons, but Gavril was suggesting that he commit himself fully. If he took the duke's son as his apprentice there would be no doubt that he had tied himself to Gavril's cause. Then he realized that he had never asked Rurik's opinion. When Jonas had set out to become a wizard it had been his own choice, his own path, not something his father had thrust on him. If the boy had no interest in becoming his apprentice then the decision would be made for him.
“Rurik, I have something important to discuss with you. Important, but also secret. You're not to discuss this with your brother, or with the servants, or with anyone. Do you understand?”
“Not even mother or father?”
“You may discuss it with your father, but no one else. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Master Jonas.”
“Good. Now, you are a clever lad, and you are learning your lessons very well. I need to know if you are interested in learning magic.”
“Magic? Of course I am! When can we start?”
“Don't be too quick to agree. There are some things you need to understand first. Do you remember our first lesson, about the War of Despair?”
“Of course. Good King Nicholas beat all the wizards and won the war.”
“He did. He won the war. But when you win a war, you don't always kill all of the enemy. There are captured prisoners and foes who surrender. Good King Nicholas wasn't a cruel man, so he couldn't kill all the wizards who surrendered or the apprentices and assistants who had merely been caught up in their masters' evil. Instead, he created the First Law to ensure that the great magics of old couldn't survive to the next generation.
“No wizard shall hold title, nor land, nor property save the clothes on his back. Wizards shall not inherit and shall have no heirs. No magic shall be preserved as words on a page and all writings of magic shall be destroyed on sight. No wizard shall teach more than one apprentice.
“They put the old libraries to the torch, and all the spells used in the War of Despair were lost. The magic we have today is that which has been passed down from master to apprentice, master to apprentice over the years. If you were to learn magic, you would have to become my apprentice, and you would be bound by the First Law.”
“Oh,” said Rurik.
“I know it's a lot to take in. Your life would take a very different path if you were to become my apprentice. You could never become a knight. Even if your brother were to die, your father's title would never pass to you. You would have no right to any lands. You would stay here only as your father's guest.”
“That is a lot to give up.”
“Well, yes. And no. I know that your brother teases you, but I doubt that you have any wish to see him die. As long as he lives, you'll never have your father's title, so it is not so great a sacrifice. Giving up knighthood is a greater sacrifice, but if you were a knight you would live your life in service as a soldier for your father or brother. There is no reason you couldn't serve them as a wizard instead. Giving up property is a much harder sacrifice. But still, you see that I am well cared for as a guest in your father's house. I am sure that you would receive better treatment still, as he'd still love you as his son. Perhaps the greatest sacrifice is that you could never have any heirs. I know that marriage and children hold little appeal to you now as a boy, but they will be something you will miss when you grow up.”
“But I could learn to do the things you can do? Harden the walls and turn men's swords to rust?”
“Yes, that's what learning magic is about.”
“Then I want to do it.”
“Wait, wait. First, you mustn't rush into this decision. It's something you ought to consider for a while. Second, while your father thinks the idea has promise, he hasn't made his final decision. Surely you wouldn't want to do this against his will? And lastly, I only inquired after your interest, I didn't extend an invitation. Selecting an apprentice is a weighty matter for a wizard. It's not something I will do lightly. Perhaps I will decide that you aren't the right choice after all.
“I'm sorry I was so presumptuous, Master Jonas.”
“No, it's my fault. I should have explained more clearly. But you are interested, if the offer is extended?”
“Oh yes, Master Jonas. I'm not much good at being a knight. Even with the wooden swords, Tony Greenhouse just beats me black and blue when we spar. But I imagine that learning magic must be like learning writing or sums, and I'm good at that.”
“Yes, indeed you are. Run along now, go have some fun.”
After the boy left, Jonas was troubled. He had been hoping that the decision would be made for him, that the boy would tell him that he had no interest in magic, that knighthood was too important to him. But how likely had that been? He had seen the boy in the practice yard and also seen his face as he taught the boy's lessons, seen his rapt interest when he recited the old stories. The boy was smart and imaginative, surely he would have a natural aptitude for wizardry, and Jonas knew it. Why else would he be trying to teach the boy Minauran?
Jonas lay in bed, unable to sleep. He had hoped that discussing the matter with Rurik would ease his mind, but it had only made him more agitated. The boy wished it, the duke wished it, and in many ways he himself wished it. And yet there was still something, still some doubt in his mind that held him back. Duke Gavril was an able and ambitious man. The duke wouldn't act before he was ready, but when he did act, it would be decisive. “Bold strokes win battles” was a quote from Gavril that was being repeated all over Tarkannan. Whatever Gavril had planned, he would come out on top. Gavril's star was ascending and the times were leaving behind the old guard in the Tarkannan court and nobility. But still, something held Jonas back from committing.
As he lay in his bed, pondering, he noticed movement in the corner of his eye. A man was creeping towards him from the shadows of his bedchamber. Jonas's heart began racing, but his body seemed frozen in terror. When the man was mere inches away, through a supreme effort of will, Jonas forced himself to act. He threw his heavy blankets over the man's head and swiveled his body to deliver a powerful kick with both legs. Taken by surprise, blinded and disoriented by the blanket, the man took the kick full in the chest and was thrown back against the wall of the chamber.
Jonas leaped up from the bed and placed his hand flat against the wall. He called out some Minauran syllables, the language of magic that made up his spell. Cracks spread from his palm, through the stone blocks and mortar of the wall, and large chunks broke free and tumbled to the floor, driving the attacker down again, just as he had disentangled himself from the blankets. “Help, assassin! Help, assassin!” Jonas shouted.
The assassin, battered and bruised, stood up from under the rubble and looked from Jonas to the door, presumably wondering how long he had to act before Jonas's cries would attract attention from the guards. The attacker seemed to make a decision, and bolted for the window on unsteady legs. He pushed himself through, and tumbled out, arms and legs flailing.
A guardsman burst through the chamber door. Jonas pointed shakily toward the window. The guard raced to the window and shoved his head through. He began shouting the alarm, “Assassin! Assassin in the keep!”
Jonas, steadier now, surveyed the scene of his struggle. He noticed a black tube on the floor among the rubble. He reached down and removed the cap, pulling forth the paper inside. It read, “None are beyond the reach of the Black Circle, and all must obey the First Law.” The wizard stood in puzzlement for a moment, until a thought chilled him to the bone. Images of the morning he had found Master Sebastian killed in Old Harbor flooded his mind. Images of the dead baby beside him.
“The boy! If they're after me, they'll be after the boy!” He grabbed his coat from its rack by the door and sprinted as fast as he could to the boys' bedchamber. Jonas burst in on the boys, out of breath. They were both groggy with sleep, but he pulled Rurik out of bed. “Get dressed, boy, there's no time. We have to get out of here.”
“What?” Rurik said, rubbing his eyes.
Jonas thought for a moment as he struggled to catch his breath. “Assassins. There are assassins in the castle, and your father sent me to take you to safety.” That brought the boys awake quickly, and they both rushed for the wardrobe. “No, Cyril, you're staying here. It's Rurik who needs to get to safety!”
Both boys began to protest, but Jonas shouted them down. “Don't argue! There's no time! We have to get out!” He grabbed Rurik by the arm and pulled him out the door. “Guards are on their way,” he said to Cyril, as he slammed the door behind him. The alarm had spread through the whole castle by now, and there was a flurry of confused activity everywhere. Rurik pulled his arms through the sleeves of his shirt and followed dutifully behind the wizard. They made their way to the stables and took two horses. Jonas thought he might have trouble at the gates, but they were sending patrols out, not trying to keep anyone in. He was able to bluff his way through. As they rode out into the night, Jonas said to the boy, “don't worry, lad. I've talked to your father, and this is the best course for us.”
Great story keep it up