The Flying Sorcerers

It did not take long for the word to spread. The wave of dismay was a visible thing as it washed across the encampment. Women began wailing, strong men trembled, children bawled in confusion. Dogs barked.

Many began tugging at their tent ropes, pulling them down. Exhausted as they were, they were ready to move on, so great was their fear of Purple.

Incredible! — that these few pitiful families had once been a strong and fruitful village. Yet so we had been before the coming of Purple. We had seen that village reduced to rubble, seen our friends and neighbours dead, and our property obliterated because of the feud between Shoogar and the mad magician.

And the duel was not yet over.

Purple still lived. He had followed us, and he would destroy us.

No. He had flown here in a single night. For a quarter of a cycle, he had been waiting for our arrival!

Shoogar was unapproachable. That Purple still lived, was indication of his failure. He had cast his finest spell, and the other held not even a grudge. Angrily, Shoogar shook off his two escorts and stamped off across the already sea-dampened field. The crowd parted before him like goats from a pool of defiled water. Anxious mothers herded their children safely out of sight.

All over the camp tents were falling now as the word spread. The people were ready to flee; they did not know where they would go, but they were willing to die trying, so great was their fear of Purple.

Here and there, sobbing women were loading their packs. Children tugged at their skirts. Many of the men I passed were putting extra sets of hobbles on their wives — there is no telling what a hysterical woman will do.

Several members of the Guild of Advisors were standing and arguing. They broke apart when they saw me. “Ah, Lant, we were just discussing whether to go east or south — or perhaps west, into the hills —”

“What foolishness are you babbling, Pilg?”

“The journey, the journey — we cannot possibly stay here?”

“We cannot possibly go anywhere else — unless you have learned how to walk on water —”

“This is not the only spot on the island, Lant,” said Hinc. “You heard Gortik. There are others.”

“You heard him too,” I snapped back. “This is a small island. Four villages and the Heights of Idiocy.”

Hinc shrugged, “If we must flee to the Heights, then so be it. We can be a renegade tribe, moving by night —”

“That way we’ll have every village on the island after our necks.”

“We have no choice. Shoogar is going to start a duel!”

“Has Shoogar said so?”

“Hah! We don’t need to talk to Shoogar to know he’s planning a duel — he’s sworn to kill Purple, remember?”

“Now, listen,” I said, “you are making foolish conclusions. This is what we are going to do. First, there is not going to be a duel. Second, I am going back to the lower village and dicker privately with Gortik. I am going to try to stick to our original plan of trading our services for their food and land. It is the only way.”

“Hah!” snorted Hinc. “Do you think you can stop Shoogar from planning a duel?”

“I am the Speaker now,” I said. “That gives me the authority —”

“Just a minute, Lant.” Hinc said. “When we let you be Speaker, it was only to talk to the villagers down below. We had no intention of letting you — only a bonemonger — assume any of the other rights and privileges of Speaker.”

There was a murmur of agreement from the others.

“You are right, of course, Hinc. And I did not want to be Speaker in the first place. But you insisted — you were one of the loudest — and now that you have taken me as your Speaker in dealings with other men, you must also accept the fact that I represent you in your dealings with the Gods.”

“Huh?”

“Well, think about it. Obviously, we are being tested by them. This set of tribulations that has been thrust upon us is nothing more than a test of our faith and our worship. The Gods wish to see if we will continue to believe in them despite our troubles and pray to them for relief, or if instead we will forsake them in our despair.”

“What does that have to do with whether or not you should be allowed to give orders?” demanded Hinc’s half-brother, Lesser Hinc. They shared the same father, of course, but were of different mothers.

I fixed him with my best angry stare. “Certainly it should be obvious, even to a frog brain like you! If you deny the traditions and the ancient ways, you are denying the Gods themselves. Our whole way of life is based upon the whims of the Gods we serve. Only a magician can control the Gods, and only the village speaker can control the village magician. Shoogar engraves his secret name into the Speaking Token, so that only the owner of that token has power over him.

“But you don’t have a token,” Lesser Hinc said.

“Right!” snapped Greater Hinc. “We owe you nothing! Come, let’s go.” They started to turn away. “We can choose another Speaker. Shoogar can just as easily make a token for him.”

“Wait!” I cried. I had to think fast. “You have forgotten one thing.”

There was something about my tone. They stopped. “You have forgotten about Gortik, the Speaker of the new village. He does not know how new I am to the art of Speaking — as far as he is concerned, I am as experienced as he. But if you introduce another man to him as your Speaker, he will know just how inexperienced that man is — and he will wonder why you have elected a new Speaker at such a crucial time for the village. All of the villages on this island would be able to take advantage of us, knowing that they were dealing with an unskilled Speaker.”

They muttered among themselves. They moved a bit away and discussed the subject heatedly. “Better no Speaker than —” “But there is this new village —”“We don’t need another inept Speaker —” “But we are already committed to —”

“And there is one more thing,” I called. They paused, looked over at me. There is Shoogar. How do you think he will react when you tell him that his best friend is no longer Speaker? Is there one among you who thinks he can control an angry magician?”

There wasn’t. They looked at each other warily. At last, Hinc nodded his assent, and the others nodded with him. “All right, Lant — you win. Next time we will be more careful who we push forward.”

“It certainly won’t be anyone with such a fast tongue,” muttered Lesser Hinc.

“Let’s just hope he can use it against Gortik,” said Snarg.

“Don’t worry,” said Greater Hinc. “If he can’t, we can always strangle him with it.”

“I am more concerned that he use it on Shoogar,” babbled Pilg. “And quickly. He is probably planning a duel right this minute.”

“Nonsense,” I said, “he can’t be planning a duel! It’s the darkless season. There are no moons.”

“Oh, you know your seasons well enough, Lant — but I don’t think you know Shoogar.”

“I am a bonemonger,” I said with dignity. “I have to have a good layman’s grasp of magic to make bone implements. Believe me, Shoogar cannot possibly be planning a duel.”