Published: 30 Sep 2019
College of Magic
The buildings of dark brick form four sides of a large cobblestone courtyard. Only a tunnel, two-stories high, in the central building leads to the outside world. The courtyard is empty when the four boys enter. A sign directly across from them, although faded with age, bears icons for “school” and “magic.”
Andy pushes open the door. A few feet from the door, a small table constricts the narrow hallway. A boy with brown hair sits behind the table. He wears a green tunic belted at his waist, and sandals. He smiles. “Welcome to the College of Magic. My name is Ethan. What do you seek?”
“My name is Andy. These boys are my apprentices. I have a letter for the Master. We also seek a friend, Rudy of Barrone, who may be known here at the college.”
Ethan gasps, “Do you know Rudy? He’s—”
The boy abruptly closes his mouth. Then he stands and opens the door across the hall from his desk. “Please wait here, I’ll summon someone.”
Andy and the boys go into the room, which holds only a table, six chairs, and a sideboard on which are a pitcher and six glasses. A diffuse light comes from south-facing clerestory windows. Once back at his desk, Ethan pulls a bell-rope, a device Chandler installed. In minutes, Master Criticus reaches the desk.
“Master, there are four boys in the waiting room. One says he had a letter for you, and they are looking for Rudy. Do you think they know…?”
“We’ll find out what they know in due course,” Master Criticus says. “Summon Petrus and ask him to join me.”
“I am the Master of the College; my name is Criticus,” the man introduces himself. “Ethan says you have a letter?”
Hidden by the table, Billy touches Andy’s leg to signify the man speaks the truth. Andy removes the letter from his pouch and passes it across the table. Criticus breaks the seal just as Petrus enters. Criticus gestures to the boy, who offers glasses of lemonade to the visitors.
“Most extraordinary,” Criticus says. “Is this sub rosa, or may I speak freely? Petrus is my apprentice, and bound by oath to secrecy.”
“It may be known among my companions and apprentices, and to your apprentice,” Andy says.
Criticus reads. “The letter, which bears the Prince’s signature and seal, asks me to bring you into my confidence, to host you at the College, to give you valuable books of which we have more than one copy, to help you in your search for one Rudy of Barrone, and to keep secret what you ask. What, specifically, is secret?”
“We are traders in cedar. I have a very large load at the docks. On the surface, we came here to sell you cedar to protect your library; you offered your hospitality during the negotiations. That is not secret. We will, of course, deliver cedar to you.
“The business of the books is secret, but may be shared under oath among the college; it would be hard to hide it, in any case. The fact that the Prince sent us is secret and should not be shared with anyone not present.” Andy hesitates a moment before finishing. “That is all.”
“I will, of course, obey. I hope, however, that confidence and trust are reciprocal?”
“They are,” Andy says. “First, you should know that these boys met Rudy under unusual circumstances which we will relate when there is time. It’s quite a long story. Second, as far as the books go, Prince Auric has commissioned me and others to search Arcadia for important books – books of science, magic, history, and stories – and to take them where they will be safe should Dark overwhelm Arcadia.”
“The long story, certainly, can wait,” Criticus says. “But we are all worried about Rudy. May we know more of the circumstances?”
Andy gestures to Mark, who answers. “We met Rudy when an evil mage sent him to our world. Rudy was able to make a gate to bring himself back here. We followed; he didn’t know we were going to, so don’t blame him, please. We didn’t see him when we came here. The gate must have drifted. We promised to look for him.”
Kevin watches Master Criticus’s face. “You don’t seem surprised that we’re from another world.”
“You are not the first such to come to this college,” Criticus says. “But that’s another long story to be shared, later. For now, about the books?”
Andy picks up the narrative. “The prince knows that we will soon be in open warfare with evil forces. He knows that Arcadia and Elvenhold have been overrun in the past. He knows that evil tends to indiscriminately destroy temples, monasteries, colleges, and – more to the point – books.”
“You know, don’t you,” Criticus responds, “that Darkness has established a foothold in Arcadia? The city of Demand, including its College of Magic, is in the control of evil men. The temple there was abandoned some few years ago.”
Mark and Kevin exchange knowing glances. This is something they read in one of Rudy’s stories. Andy speaks. “Yes, and the prince knows it, as well.”
“Why hasn’t he done anything?” Petrus asks.
Andy chuckles. “The prince doesn’t tell me all his plans,” he says. “And, it would not be wise to speculate, even under the rose.”
Criticus lifts his eyebrows at that. While many people know that sub rosa means secret, few would have known the literal translation of that Old Elvish term. “You are a scholar. Of course, you’d have to be to select the right books.”
“I have some training,” Andy says. “And, I have books, for you, as well. Duplicates from other libraries and some that were rescued from Demand. You see, we’d like to establish your college as one of the repositories.”
“Is there a reason for that?” Criticus asks. “Barrone is very close to Eblis. If Arcadia were to be overrun, it’s likely … Why do you smirk, Petrus?”
The boy answers without hesitation. “When Marty and Chandler first returned? I was at the desk, and we talked about how Eblis is often the source of evil, and how Barrone is vulnerable. I pointed out their illogic and cited the Second Precept. Marty countered with the First Precept. That’s how I knew they were mages.”
Mark looks puzzled. “What are the precepts?”
Criticus signals his approval to Petrus, who answers. “The first is that it is easier to destroy than to build, and hence, easier to do evil than good. The second is that all magic is cause and effect, and hence, a mage must be logical. There are many more. I’d like to tell you, but perhaps now is not the time.”
Master Criticus chuckles his agreement. “It is nearly vespers,” he says to Andy. “The prince asks that we be your hosts while you are in Barrone.” Criticus turns to his acolyte. “Petrus, please take them to the baths; show them a room in which to sleep; and bring them to supper.
“Andy, you and your companions are welcome. I would like to continue our discussion tomorrow, and see the books you have brought.”
“I sleep in a dormitory with some of my friends. There are extra beds, if you’d like to stay there,” Petrus says. “There is also an empty room that you might have, if you want.” The tone of his voice and a shrug of his shoulders make it clear he thinks little of the second option.
Andy looks at Billy, who smiles, then at Kevin, who grins broadly. Kevin pokes Mark in the ribs, and that boy agrees. “My very astute friends agree with you. We’d like to live in your dormitory.”
Petrus’s smile is as big as Billy’s. “Come on, then. You can leave your packs in the dormitory, and we can still get to the bath before it gets crowded.” Petrus leads the companions up two flights of stairs to a large, dormered room. “It gets the morning light. I hope you’re morning people. Things start very early, here.”
The five are first in the bath, but have barely finished their showers and gotten into the hot soak when others begin arriving. The first are a boy and a tween, who wash one another as would very close companions, best friends, lovers. When they reach the hot tub, Petrus introduces them as Marty and Chandler.
“Petrus, you’re dying to tell Marty and Chandler something, and it’s probably about us,” Kevin says. “Is it all right, Andy?”
Andy agrees. “I see no reason to keep your origins secret from the boys at the college; they should know not to gossip about it outside the walls.”
Not quite sure what they are about to be told, Marty and Chandler agree.
Petrus claps his hands in excitement. “Mark and Kevin came from another world, like you did. They came here through a gate that Rudy made!”
“Rudy! Is he back?” Marty asks. “We’ve been worried about him. Chandler and I knew him before, you know. Before he became an apprentice here.”
There is a long silence. Then Mark speaks. “We don’t know if he’s back. We think he came back to World through the gate, but we don’t know where it took him. Kevin and I followed only a few seconds behind, but the gate drifted. We arrived in Carter. We don’t know where or when Rudy might have arrived.”
“Where are you from?” Chandler asks.
“_________, Georgia, USA, Earth,” Mark answers.
“And you met Rudy, there?”
Kevin nods.
“Marty and I are from California. There is a Georgia in our world; is there a California in yours?”
“Huh? Yes—” Mark begins, before three more boys finish their showers and walk toward the hot soak.
“The bath is going to get busy, soon,” Petrus says. “They’re going to stay in our dorm,” he adds for Marty and Chandler’s benefit. “Maybe we can get the whole story, tonight?”
That evening, Kevin and Mark sit, arms around one another, on a bed with Petrus and two very strange boys: Marty and Chandler. “Why did you ask in the bath if there is a California in our world?” Kevin asks.
“I think,” Chandler says, “there is only one World – this one – but there is more than one Earth, the one we’re from, and others like it, but not always the same. We have found proof there are at least two.
“You know that Rudy wrote a book, The Book of Heroes?” Chandler adds.
Kevin and Mark nods. “We’ve read some of the stories from it,” Mark says. “On the co … on the co …”
“Wow! I can’t say it. That’s so cool!”
“On a device that holds stories and pictures and can do arithmetic and other things?” Marty asks. Computer, he thinks although he can not say the word any more than Mark could.
Mark continues. “We agreed not to talk about the stories, because we’re afraid some of them might be future stories, and we don’t want to mess up the future. Not all the stories have a happy ending. Most of them are happy except like when Thom died and that’s okay to talk about, because it is in the past.”
“It’s a good idea not to talk too much about the stories, except the ones we know have already happened,” Chandler says. “A boy we knew had a copy of the book. We read some of it. There are stories about other people traveling from Earth to World, but not all of their Earths are the same.”
Chandler’s entire demeanor changes. “There is also a story about us – Marty and me – that we read after it happened but before it could have been written. If we had read it before, I don’t know if it would ever have happened.”
“Huh?” Kevin says.
“The story tells how we – kind of accidentally – got here. There are some rough times, and some unhappy times, and a war,” Marty says. He looks at Chandler, whose hand he holds. “It’s, okay, really, more than okay now, but if we’d known it was about us, we probably wouldn’t have—”
“A war? How long have you guys been here?” Mark asks.
“This time, a few months; the first time, over a hundred years,” Chandler replies.
“Huh?” Kevin asks.
“Well,” Chandler begins, “there is this renaissance faire…”
The next morning, Andy leaves for the docks before the others are awake. “He’ll supervise the unloading of the cedar,” Billy tells the others when they wake.
“Shouldn’t we be there to help?” Kevin asks.
“Don’t worry, there’ll be plenty of work when he gets back.” Billy turned to Petrus. “They can’t bring the pallets in the front door. Where will they be delivered?”
Petrus takes the boys through the stables to the rear gate, and offers breakfast while they wait.
It is Petrus and Master Criticus, accompanied by Master Jerome, who bring tea and toasted bread just minutes before six wagons arrive. Andy jumps from the first. Only after the pallets have been put into a storeroom and Andy pays the drovers, does Criticus speak.
“Master Jerome is our librarian,” Criticus says. “It is he who rescued so many books from the library in Demand before that city was taken by the Dark. I told him Andy has books from that city.”
“They were brought to Arcadia, and entrusted to my master,” Andy says. “The boys who consigned them were very clear they were to be safeguarded, and delivered only to Master Jerome or the Senior Master. They paid rather handsomely for this service.”
Petrus understands instantly and gasps. Gary! That is Arthur and Gary. “Did you see Gary?” he asks.
Andy sees the yearning in Petrus’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Petrus. The books were delivered while I was away. I’m afraid I know nothing of who brought them, except what I say.”
“You’re sad,” Kevin and Billy say at the same instant. “Why?” Kevin adds.
“My friend, Gary … he is one of the boys who had the books,” Petrus says. “He left, months ago. I hoped there might be a message from him.”
Taking the cedar off the pallets was like opening a puzzle box, revealing the concealed cases of books. “These two are from Demand,” Andy says. “These three are from Carter – the Duke’s library – and these three, from the Prince’s library. These four were sent to Carter by someone in Londonium.”
“I’ll start with the ones from Demand,” Master Jerome says. “I am already familiar with those books; they will be easiest to catalogue.”
It is mid-afternoon when Marty interrupts Petrus in the alchemic lab. “Can you stop, safely?” Marty asks. “Master Jerome would like you to come to the library.”
“I’ve not started mixing, yet,” Petrus says. “Everything is stable until the next step. Sure.”
“Master?” Petrus stands across a table from Master Jerome. Jerome peers around a stack of books.
“Ah, Petrus. This was stuck between two books in the middle of the crate. It has your name on it.” He hands the boy a letter. Petrus stares at the writing: Petrus, College of Magic, Barrone.
“A letter—” He gasps. “It must be! I hope it is! Thank you, Master!”
The letter is, indeed, from Gary. Petrus reads it again and again, until he memorizes it.
When wild in woods the noble savage ran. – John Dryden, c. 1670 CE Earth Analogue III
My beloved Petrus,
I hope that you are well and happy. I am well, as are Arthur, George, and Larry. I am happy with my companions, although I miss you. We have arrived in Arcadia (the city) with Master Jerome’s books, after an exciting trip. There is further adventure and excitement awaiting us, and you must tell Master Criticus about it.
A few weeks after leaving Barrone, we heard two great disturbances in the magical field. The first was pure, and Arthur thinks it is the sound of some great Good. The second was discordant, and George, who is better at understanding noise in the magical field, is sure it was the sound of some great Evil being unleashed. Arthur speaks of balance, with the Evil being unleashed in response to the Good.
When we reached Arcadia, we learned about what is being called The Restoration of the MacLachlan. A group of adventurers defeated a false baron and his forces, and put the real baron (who is also a duke, in some of the stories) back on his throne in a mountain castle. All the stories agree that a great deal of magic was released in the process. Given the date and direction, that is for sure the first sound we heard.
We cannot be sure where the Evil sound came from; however, George and Arthur have studied the maps in their journals, and agreed it likely came from somewhere in the western marches of Arcadia, or, perhaps, on the other side of the Arista Mountains that mark the western border.
We’ve talked about this, and we believe that because we heard the second sound, the Evil sound, we must seek it out, find what it is, and destroy it. We do not think we will have to look very hard to find it.
Arthur found someone trustworthy who will send the books to the college, and says I might include this letter. He also says I should relate another story, and you might tell it to the others of our friends at the college.
We recovered the books that had been hidden and were traveling north on the Royal Road. As night approached, George led us to a glade through which ran a small stream. The stream formed a shallow pond near the center of the glade. The water in the stream and pond were gray with silt.
“It’s from the clay,” George said. “It will be clear not far up the hill. It flows over rocks, there.”
“Do you want help with those?” he asked. I had collected our water bottles.
“No, I’ve got them,” I said. “I’ll let you know if there’s a place big enough to bathe.”
I am bending over the spring filling a water bottle, when I hear a heavy thud behind me. Startled, I drop the water bottle, turn, and draw my dagger. Not three feet from me, lying face down, is a man with an arrow protruding from his back, just below the left shoulder blade. The man’s body jerks once before his sword falls from a dead hand to clatter against a rock. I scan the trees that surround the clearing. There! A boy, carrying a bow with another arrow nocked, steps toward me.
The boy wears only a dark green, sleeveless tunic, belted at the waist, and moccasins. His bare arms and legs and face are brown from the sun. Green eyes shine below sun-streaked brown hair. Had he not wanted me to see him he would have been invisible.
The boy speaks first. “He would have killed you and that would have been wrong.”
I slowly bend down and put my dagger on the moss. Showing empty hands, I address the boy. “My name is Gary. Thank you for saving my life.”
“Will you swear not to hurt me?” the boy asks.
“Yes, I do swear not to hurt you,” I reply.
“Honor bright?” the boy asks.
“Honor bright,” I reply.
“Your name is Gary? My name is June Bug,” the boy says. “Why are you here? You are not Evil like the men are.”
“I travel with my companions to Arcadia. Will you come with me to meet them?” I ask.
June Bug’s voice is tight with fear. “There is no need. They are already here. Remember, you promised not to hurt me.”
Arthur steps into the clearing from the east; Larry steps from behind a tree on the west; George appears in the south. Their weapons are sheathed.
“You have no need to fear us; we are Gary’s companions, and honor his promises,” Arthur says. “Are there others nearby who would harm you or us?”
“His cohort is past two hills, that way,” June Bug says, indicating the north. “I don’t know where he was going, but I tracked him for nearly five miles after he left the others.”
George helps me roll the body on its back after June Bug removes his arrow. “What’s that inside his tunic?” George asks.
Neither June Bug nor I are anxious to touch the body again, so George reaches inside the man’s tunic. He removes a leather pouch. Opening the pouch, he whistles. “These are beautiful!”
The others crowd to see. The pouch contains two faceted, red, transparent stones. They are about the size of the ball of George’s thumb, and look to be twins.
“Rubies,” Larry says, after squinting at them.
“Corundum, all right,” I say. Larry and I exchanged silly grins at having given two names for the same thing.
“The rubies are yours,” George says, holding them out to June Bug.
The boy recoils. “I don’t want them. I don’t want anything of his.”
“George will hold them for now,” Arthur says. “If this man has friends, they may miss him – or the rubies. We’d better go. Cover your tracks. June Bug, please come with us to our camp.”
“A band of brigands attacked the town last week. Some of them were killed, but several – we don’t know how many – escaped into the woods. I live in the woods most of the time. They can’t see me; they can’t hear me. No one can see or hear me unless I want them to,” June Bug explains. “I found their camp and followed this one. I saw him raise his sword as he crept toward Gary, and I saw Evil in his mind. I saw darkness swirling around him and then vanishing when he died.”
The boy’s voice becomes bitter. “Why is it my lot to kill them?”
None of us have an answer.
We accompanied June Bug to his village, Nut Grove, where we stayed the night with June Bug’s family. June Bug was uncomfortable, however. When we left the next morning, he went back into the woods. To patrol for enemies, he said.
The cleric and reeve looked at the rubies, and then asked us to take them to Arcadia to be turned over to the authorities, there. We did so, and a reward was sent to June Bug’s family.
Please tell our friends we are well, and we remember them. I will remember you, forever. If I do not see you again in this life, I will look for you in another.
Gary, Son of Mastersmith Edgar of Bowling Green.
Petrus shares the story with his master and the boys, and sleeps for many days with a smile on his face.
It is several days later when the bell attached to the rope at the front desk rings, the single ring that indicates the need for a messenger – or that the boy on the desk needs to piss. Mark is closest to the door, so he responds.
“It’s a letter for Master Criticus,” Ethan says. “Oh, and while you’re here, I need to piss, okay?”
Mark nods. He sits at the desk and looks at the letter. It is parchment, folded and sealed. The image in the wax looks like a wagon wheel. Written on the outside is, “Criticus, College of Magic, Barrone.” No Zip Code, Mark thinks, and then giggles.
The letter is not for Criticus, after all. Inside is a second letter, addressed to Andy. Andy reads the letter, and then whistles.
“It’s from Cadfael,” he says. He wants us to stay in Barrone for a while, set up a trading post and warehouse, and an import-export business, to include trade with Eblis.”
He looks at the boys. “You know what that really means, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Billy says. “Expand the spy network, and spy on Eblis!”
“And,” Mark says, “it means we’ve got to move out of the college. It’s already taken an awfully long time to sell them cedar.”
“Maybe not,” Andy says. “You see, Master Criticus wants the cedar, all of it. And, he wants it installed in the library to protect books from insects. And, he wants it for a second, hidden library. How are you guys at working with your hands?”
“Huh?” came from Billy, Mark, and Kevin.
“Part of the deal is that we install it: saw it to length, fasten it down. Not hard, but tedious. It’ll take at least a month. By that time, people will be accustomed to seeing us around here. And, the warehouse just outside of the door? The owner has space to let. I think it would be a fine place to open an import-export business.”
Things are perfect, Mark thinks, and then, too perfect. I’m afraid.
This book wraps up many of the stories of World, though we hope it is not the last from the fertile mind of David. Let David know you are reading: David dot McLeod at CastleRoland dot net. He deserves your feedback.
15,570 views