High Druid's Blade

SEVEN

SO PAXON WENT BACK TO THE HIGHLANDS OF LEAH, DEPARTING Paranor with the young Druid Sebec at the helm of the same two–masted clipper that had brought him there. The Ard Rhys had given him two days in which to make his arrangements at home before returning to the Druid’s Keep and his new life, and he was aware of how little time that allowed him to do what was needed. To begin with, he had to figure out how to tell his mother and his sister what he had committed to, and he had to do so as soon as they returned.

Which meant, in turn, that he had to figure out how much he was going to tell either one of them about why Aphenglow Elessedil had asked him to come to Paranor at all.

After all, neither one knew anything about the magic contained in the Sword of Leah. He had kept that secret from both. His mother didn’t even know what had happened to Chrys in her absence–his sister’s kidnapping and rescue. Everything surrounding that episode was still just between himself and Jayet.

But he had to offer some sort of explanation about why the Ard Rhys of the Fourth Druid Order had suddenly decided that Paxon was a candidate for training with weapons and magic until he could serve as a protector and paladin on quests to seek out errant and stolen magic for collection and storage at Paranor. Or, even if he left out the part about training with magic, why she would even have known about him in the first place. It wasn’t as if the Leahs had maintained a close personal relationship with the Druids over the years.

He thought about it all the way home, and he was still mulling it over when they landed at the airfield and Sebec sent him on his way.

“I will be here again in two days at midday, waiting for you,” the other told him, and then added cheerfully, “Don’t be late.”

Then he was off, the clipper lifting away and disappearing north. Paxon watched it go and set off for the cottage. He would talk to his sister first. Whatever he ended up telling his mother, he wanted to be sure Chrys would not contradict him.

Neither she nor his mother was home when he arrived, so he dumped his backpack on his bed and went off to Brew Tide, the tavern where Jayet now worked and where he imagined he might find his sister. He went down into the valley and the city, angling east, away from the airfield and toward the army barracks. Upon reaching the tavern and stepping through the doors, he found the girls engaged in conversation at the far end of the bar.

They rushed over to welcome him back, hugging and kissing him, though it seemed to him that Jayet did so with a little more enthusiasm. After exchanging a few words with both, he separated his sister from Jayet and sat her down at an empty table. The tavern was quiet in the midafternoon hours, so they were able to talk uninterrupted and in private.

“Does Mother know anything yet about what happened to you?” he asked.

“Not from me,” she announced flatly. “I wouldn’t tell her.”

“Then we won’t start now,” he said. “But I do have to tell her something because I’ve been asked to come train at Paranor by Aphenglow Elessedil.”

Chrys gave a surprised gasp. “Paranor?” she whispered, leaning close. “How did that happen?”

What he told her was that word had gotten back to the Ard Rhys about what had happened at Dark House. Because she knew of Arcannen and considered him an enemy of the Druids and opposed to their efforts to find and reclaim magic throughout the Four Lands, she had paid close attention to the news and made an effort to find out more about Paxon. Having done so, she decided she wanted him to come to Paranor to train in the use of weapons–and perhaps, one day, with magic, as well. After his training was complete, he was to take a position for a period of three years in the service of the order, aiding Druids in their efforts to track down rumors of magic, acting as protector and companion to them while they were away from the Keep.

“You’ve decided then?” she asked. “Are you certain about this?”

“She made me the offer and said I had to make up my mind right away. Otherwise, I would have come back and discussed it with you and Mother first. But the truth is, I knew this was what I wanted. I’ve felt trapped in the airship freight business. It was a living for us, but I never wanted to do it forever, and now I don’t have to. You and Mother will be given money to live on. I’ll find someone to run the freight business in my absence. If you want, you can help with this. And you don’t have to worry about Arcannen. For a few months, there will be someone from the Druid order living in Leah to keep an eye on you, just in case Arcannen decides to pay a return visit. You won’t know who is looking after you, but you will be safe while I’m gone.”

“I’m not worried anyway,” his sister declared, looking irritated. “I won’t be caught off guard like that again.”

Paxon almost said, Magic can always catch you off guard, and that’s what happened the last time, but he decided to keep his mouth shut.

“Will you be all right if I do this?”

She grinned. “I want you to do this. I want you to be happy. If this is what you’ve been looking for, then you should go. Mother and I will be fine.” She paused, turning suddenly serious. “But you’ll come back to visit us, won’t you?”

“You know I will. And if you have need of me, for any reason, you will be able to contact me at Paranor.” His smile, when he unleashed it, made him feel suddenly giddy. “I can’t tell you how excited I am to be doing this!”

She snorted. “I can’t believe they want you, of all people. And all because of me. I guess you owe me for that, big brother.”

“Just promise me you won’t ever do anything like that again, and I’ll be even deeper in your debt. We have to go now. I need to sit Mother down and tell her what I’m going to do, but I wanted to tell you first. I want to be sure you will back me up. I don’t want to tell her about Dark House and Arcannen. That will only cause her to worry. So even though that is the real reason the Ard Rhys found out about me, I’m going to tell Mother it was because she knew of the Leahs and their long history with the Druids and thought I might be a good choice because of that.”

His sister’s brow crinkled with doubt. “You think she will believe that?”

He shrugged. “Let’s go find out.”

It turned out their mother never questioned it. She was so happy that her son was finally receiving the recognition and opportunity she felt he deserved that she skipped right past the part about why he was being asked and simply accepted it as his due. He did have to reassure her that he would be all right, that none of this was particularly dangerous, even though he knew in his heart it could be. He shaded all his dissembling just so, both with his mother and his sister, and the matter of the Sword of Leah never came up.

When he went to bed that night, he had mixed feelings about what he had done. He felt it was for the best that he kept certain things back, offering just enough details for reassurance but not so much that it would cause them to worry. Still, lying to them felt wrong. At some point, he would have to tell them about the sword. He wasn’t sure why he was keeping it from them now except he was afraid that knowing he would be involved with magic would cause them to feel less excited about his choice and to view his departure with more trepidation than pleasure. The less they knew–or could talk about–the safer they would be.

Whatever the case, it took a long time before he fell asleep.

Two days later, as scheduled, he flew out of Leah for Paranor and the Druid’s Keep. Sebec was waiting for him at the airfield, as promised, and welcomed Paxon warmly. Stowing the Highlander’s bags in a rear storage compartment, he took the clipper up for a final slow circling of the city that allowed Paxon to enjoy a prolonged last view of its buildings and hills, and then headed north.

In the interim since his return from speaking with Aphenglow Elessedil and pursuant to her suggestion that he set his business affairs in order, Paxon had approached several friends to see if they might be willing to take over the running of his airfreight business. But none of them had either the time or the inclination to take on the extra work, so he had been forced to talk to his larger competitors. None of them was interested, either, but three made offers to buy the business outright. Two of the offers were so ridiculously low that Paxon walked out on them. The third was reasonable, and he liked the man he was dealing with. So on impulse, and with time slipping away, he agreed to the sale. He realized he was cutting ties with the city and his life that he hadn’t planned on, but sometimes when you took a chance it was better to hold nothing back and to go all–in.

He was paid that very day and signed papers for the transfer of all airships, spare parts, and the storage shed. He kept his Sprint and arranged for the manager of the airfield to store and care for it in his absence. He told his mother and his sister what he had done, but neither complained or voiced concern. It was the right thing to do, his mother insisted. Just so long as we have money to buy food, said his sister.

Though hesitant about doing so, he went to Jayet at the Brew Tide to tell her good–bye. She was cheerful and calm until the very end, when she broke down in tears and kissed him and told him she would think of him every day and pretty much clung to him until he pried her loose. It was a little disconcerting, but he supposed she felt a little more possessive of him because of her involvement in getting Chrys back from Arcannen. Whatever the case, he promised he would take care of himself and not indulge in reckless behavior and be back to see her no matter what when he returned to visit his family.

So with farewells exchanged and the airfreight business disposed of, he departed with a sense of finality, prepared to begin anew, his future a bright uncertainty that beckoned with all the flash and elusiveness of a colorful songbird. Nothing was promised him, and what he might gain from this experience was yet to be determined, but the possibilities were out there in recognizable and tempting forms that drew him on.

He made the journey in relative silence, wrapped in thoughts of what lay ahead. Sebec let him be, perhaps sensing what he was going through. It took them all day to reach Paranor, the sun just setting as they skimmed the forests surrounding the Keep before setting down on the airship landing pad. Sebec took Paxon to his new quarters, a room higher up in the building this time, and got him settled in. Then he accompanied Paxon to dinner and introduced him to a few of his friends–Avelene, with her lavender eyes and bladed features; Zabb Ruh, come from a farming village in the deep Southland called Terran, where he had been viewed as a warlock and worse because of his talent with magic; and Oost Mondara, who would be Paxon’s instructor in the use of weapons.

This last introduction was a bit unsettling for a couple of reasons. First, Oost was a Gnome, which meant he was small and wiry and not very impressive physically. How he could instruct anyone as big as Paxon on how to use blades, where close combat was almost always necessary, was difficult to imagine. Second, Oost barely gave him a glance, providing a perfunctory greeting and going right back to eating his meal. Already, Paxon didn’t like him.

But when they were alone again, Sebec told him not to prejudge the Gnome. “The Ard Rhys could have chosen a different instructor,” he said to the Highlander, “but she very deliberately chose Oost because he is the most talented and skilled of those who serve the order.” He paused. “Also, you might want to know that Oost was less than thrilled about the assignment. He thinks you won’t last because people like you always believe magic can get them out of any sort of trouble and fail to concentrate on the skills a real swordsman needs to survive.”

“Then he knows about the Sword of Leah? The Ard Rhys told him?”

“She did. She knew he would want to know, even though he wouldn’t like it. But Oost will do what he’s told, and he will do his best. It’s up to you to prove him wrong. And don’t underestimate him. You do that at your peril.”

Paxon had no intention of prejudging or underestimating anyone while he was at Paranor, and all he asked was that he be extended the same courtesy. From what he had seen and heard so far, he wasn’t sure this would happen with Oost Mondara.

His final introduction that evening was to a tall, lean Elf named Isaturin, who was second in status only to the Ard Rhys and widely considered to be the favorite as her successor. He greeted Paxon warmly and told him he was most welcome, and they were all looking forward to his contributions as a paladin for the order. He knew Leah and talked about the Highlands in such familiar terms that Paxon was immediately put at ease in his presence.

When he had moved away, Sebec said, “He is our designated ambassador to most of the governments and monarchies of the Four Lands. When the Ard Rhys doesn’t travel, which is most of the time now, Isaturin goes in her place. He is a skilled orator and negotiator, as you might have guessed. He is very well liked everywhere, and he has done more to bring about a change in our relationships with the Races than anyone.” He paused. “He must have taken a liking to you. He isn’t usually so enthusiastic about newcomers. I know he’s spent time in Leah, so maybe that’s it. For an Elf, he’s very open about his admiration for the Southland and its people.”

“I don’t remember ever seeing him in Leah, but he certainly knows his way around. He even knew the tavern where my sister’s friend Jayet works.”

Sebec shrugged. “He knows a lot of things others don’t. And he is a skilled magic user, perhaps the best at Paranor. He can do things I’ve never seen anyone else do–not even the Ard Rhys. He can disappear while you’re looking at him. He can move short distances through space, disassembling and reassembling himself in the process.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how he does even half of it.”

He returned Paxon to his room then and told him he would come back for him after sunrise. “We’ll use the morning to give you a tour of the buildings and grounds. In the afternoon, you will begin your weapons training with Oost. Better get some rest. You’re going to need it.”

Paxon took him at his word and said good night. Inside his room, he stood looking out the window, taking in the torchlit stone walls and ironbound gates, the lighted windows in the buildings all around him, the parapets and battlements, the soaring towers, and the layers of shadows draped everywhere. It looked and felt so different from home that for a moment he felt a keen disappointment and a sudden homesickness for the familiar Highlands.

But the moment passed, and he went back to thinking about what would happen tomorrow. Would he be allowed to use his own sword? Or would Oost feel its inherent magic a distraction that should not be allowed? When would he be permitted to start training with magic? Were there other students like himself, others with the use of magic brought in to fill the same position? Was he in competition with anyone?

The questions swirled around him like moths drawn to a flame, and even after he had shed his clothes and climbed into bed they were still flitting about, erratic little gadflies inside his head, pressing for attention.

It was a long time before he closed his eyes, brushed the questions away, and fell asleep.

He woke at sunrise and was dressed and waiting when Sebec came for him. The young Druid looked fresh and rested in a way Paxon did not feel, and as always he was cheerful as he took the Highlander down to breakfast and then began their tour of the Keep.

As they moved from building to building and room to room, Sebec kept up a running commentary on recent Druid history.

“Everything changed after the collapse of the Forbidding and the escape of the demons into the Four Lands,” he told Paxon. “The Fourth Druid Order was almost decimated, all of them killed save Aphenglow Elessedil and a Dwarf named Seersha. When the Forbidding was restored and the escaped creatures were locked away again, those two were all that was left. The order almost collapsed. But Aphenglow chose to go back to become the Ard Rhys, even though she had doubts about doing so. Her Elven heritage made the choice difficult. At that point, the Elves neither trusted nor supported the Druids. Anyone from the Westland who joined the order became something of an outcast. That was the case with Aphenglow, even before she became the Ard Rhys and undertook the job of rebuilding the order.

“But she felt strongly about it. Her younger sister, Arlingfant, had become the new Ellcrys, and she believed her own sacrifice should be at least as meaningful. So with Seersha and a shape–shifter named Oriantha, she rebuilt the remains of the Fourth Druid Order. Afterward, she immediately began to search out new members, traveling the length and breadth of the Four Lands to find suitable candidates for training. Surprisingly, there were dozens. But she kept the number small at first, choosing only those who had a natural affinity for or actual possession of magic. She rebuilt the order slowly and with care. Then she reached out to all the governments and rulers of the Four Lands to ask for their support. Some gave it freely; others did not. Interestingly enough, it was the Dwarves and Trolls who were most supportive at first. The Elves remained reticent, even with Aphenglow as the Ard Rhys and her uncle as King of the Elven people.”

“But she must have found a way to break down that barrier,” Paxon interjected.

“Time and patience.” Sebec stopped them at an overlook and leaned on the half–wall contemplatively. “When her uncle died, a member of the Ostrian family ascended to the throne. She was less inclined than others to vilify the Druids. She was a more pragmatic and farseeing ruler, and she understood that the Elves and the Druids were natural allies. They had always shared a belief in the importance of and need for magic in the world. The Southland had already banned the use of all magic within its borders, and their position on the matter was intractable, not open to discussion. Although Arishaig had been rebuilt as the capital city, and a new Coalition Council with a new Prime Minister had been installed, the same old prejudices were embraced. Science was the path to prosperity and a better world; magic was outdated and dangerous and elitist.”

He paused. “Seersha was dead by then. She died in her sleep, the Histories say. Oriantha was acting Ard Rhys during a long period of time following Seersha’s death when Aphenglow went into the Druid Sleep. While she held that position, she did something Aphenglow had never been able to do: She managed to open lines of communication with the Federation and arrange for an exchange of ambassadors. Perhaps it was because she put a new face on the order or perhaps the Federation grew tired of its isolation. In any event, even with their differences about the need for magic still a barrier between them, they began talking to each other on a regular basis. It was the beginning of a more open relationship between the Druids and the Southland. The other lands quickly took advantage of this and joined in. Delegations visited and information was exchanged. Even the Gnome tribes participated, insofar as they could manage any kind of agreement regarding who was to represent them. It was the first time in history that this had ever happened.

“By the time the Ard Rhys awoke from her Druid Sleep, Oriantha was old and worn out, and she left the order shortly after. She was never seen again. The entire order was new, and Aphenglow found much that was different from when she had gone into the Druid Sleep. This was eight years ago. I came to her in her first year after waking, sent by a friend of one of the other Druids. She interviewed me, and I was accepted into the order. I already knew a little magic, so that helped. Two weeks later, she made me her personal assistant. She says she likes the way I think. She says I am more organized than she is, and I am younger and have greater energy. That helps to prevent her from wearing herself too far down.”

He smiled ruefully, running his fingers through the dark curls of his hair and shrugging. “She’s coming to the end of her life. I can’t imagine the world without her. I have been her assistant for seven years now, and I would gladly serve her for fifty. It has been my great privilege. She is the kindest person I have ever known.”

He was lost in reverie for a few seconds, and then he straightened abruptly and started ahead once more. “We’ll have a quick look at the study rooms and lecture halls and then go down to lunch. Afterward, you can start your training with Oost.”