Garan the Eternal Read online

  Forgotten was the room in which we stood — the now blank mirrors of seeing.

  Search was ended — an end was a beginning.

  * * *

  ONE SPELL WIZARD

  * * *

  In all professions there are not only the awe-inspiring great successes, and the forgotten failures, but also those who seem unable to climb the tallest peaks, yet do not tumble hopelessly into the chasms in between. There were sorcerers in High Hallack of whom nobles were quick to speak with reverence when in company; what they said in private remained private if they were lucky. One could never be quite sure of the substance of shadows, nor even of the pedigree of a web-weaving spider. Such uncertainty can be nerve-racking at times.

  Also there were warlocks and wizards near to the other end of the scale who barely eked out livings in tumble-down cottages surrounded by unpleasant bogs, or found themselves reduced to caves where water dripped unendingly, and bats provided a litter they could well do without. Their clients were landsmen who came to get a cure for an ailing cow or a stumbling horse. Cow — horse — when a man of magic should be rightfully dealing with the fate of dales, raking in treasure from lords, living in a · keep properly patrolled at night by things which snuffled at the doors to keep all unhappy visitors within their chambers from dusk to dawn — or the reverse, depending upon the habits of the visitor. Sorcerers have a very wide range of guests, willing and unwilling.

  Wizards have no age, save in wizardry. And to live in a bat- and water-haunted cave for long sours men. Though to begin with wizards are never of a lightsome temperament. A certain acid view of life accompanies the profession.

  And Saystrap considered he had been far too long in a cave. It was far past the time when he should have been raised to at least a minor hill keep with a few grisly servitors, if not to the castle of his dreams. There was certainly no treasure in his cave, but he refused to face the fact that there never would be.

  The great difficulty was the length of Saystrap’s spells: they were a hindrance to his ambition. They worked very well for as much as twenty-four hours — if he expended top effort in their concoction. He was truly a master of some fine effects with those, but when they did not last he was labeled a dismal failure, which was enough to bring all his frustrations to the boiling point.

  At last he was driven to accept his limitations to the point of working out a method whereby a short-lived spell could be put to good account Only to do this he must have an assistant. But, while a sorcerer of note could pick and choose apprentices, a half-failure such as Saystrap had to take what he might find in a very limited labor market.

  Not too far from his cave lived a landsman with two sons. The eldest was a credit to his thrifty upbringing, a model young man who was upright enough to infuriate all his contemporaries in the neighborhood, to whom he was constantly cited as an example. He worked from sunrise to early dusk with a will, never spent silver when copper would do — in all ways an irritating youth.

  But his brother was as useless a lad as any father wanted to curse out of house and field. He could be found lying on his back with the mowing hardly begun watching clouds — clouds, mind you I Put to any task he either broke the tools by some stupid misuse, or ruined what he was supposed to be working on. And he could not even talk plain, but gobbled away in so thick a voice that no decent man could understand him, not that any wanted to.

  It was the latter misfortune which attracted Saystrap’s attention. A wizard’s power lies in spells, and most of these must be chanted aloud in order to get the proper effect — even a short-time effect. An assistant who was as good as dumb, who would not learn a few tag ends of magic and then have the audacity to set up in business for himself, was the best to employ.

  So one morning Saystrap arrived via a satisfactory puff of smoke in the middle of the cornfield where the landsman was berating his son for breaking a hoe. The smoke curled very impressively into the sky as Saystrap stepped out of its curtain. And the landsman jumped back a step or two, looking just as amazed as he should. Saystrap found this gratifying, a lucky omen, and prepared to bargain.

  “Greetings,” he said briskly. He had long ago learned that any long build-up was not for a short-spelled wizard. It was best to forego the supposedly awed mumbles and get right to the point.

  But he did not overlook the staging, of course. A pass or two in the air produced two apple trees, about shoulder height (he had to make it quick), still loaded with fruit. And, as an additional nice touch, a small dragon winked into existence and out again before the landsman found his voice. “It is a fair morning for field work,” Saystrap continued.

  “It was,” the landsman returned uncertainly. Magic in the woods, or a cave now — that was one thing. But magic right out in the middle of the best yielding cornfield was a different matter. The dragon was gone, he could not really swear it had been here, but those trees were still standing where they would be a pesky nuisance around which to get the plow. “How — how can I serve you, Master — Master — ?”

  “Saystrap,” supplied the wizard graciously. “I am your near neighbor, Master Ladizwell. Though busy as you have been on your very fruitful land you may not be aware of that.”

  Master Ladizwell looked from the trees to the wizard. There was a hint of a frown on his face. Wizards, like the lord’s taxmen, were too apt to take more than they gave in return. He did not relish the thought of living cheek-by- jowl, as it were, with one. And he certainly had not invited this meeting.

  “No, you have not,” Saystrap answered his thought. This was the time to begin to bear down a little and let the fellow know just who and what he was dealing with. “I have come to ask your assistance in a small matter. I need a pair of younger feet, stronger arms, and a stout back to aid me.” Now this lad” — for the first time he glanced at the younger son — “has he ever thought of going into service?”

  “Him?” The landsman snorted. “Why, what fool would — “ Then he stopped in mid-word. If this wizard did not know of his stupid son’s uselessness, why tell the family shame abroad? “For what length of service?” he demanded quickly. If a long bond could be agreed upon he might get the lout out from underfoot, and make a profit into the bargain.

  “Oh, the usual — a year and a day.”

  “And his wages, Master Saystrap?”

  “How would you reckon his worth?”

  “Well, now, at this season another pair of knowledgeable hands — “ Ladizwell hurriedly kicked at the broken hoe, hoping the wizard had not seen that nor heard his hot words to his son.

  “Will this suffice?” Saystrap waved a hand in a grand, wide gesture, and in the field stood a fine horse.

  Ladizwell blinked. “Right enough!” he agreed hurriedly. He held out his hand and Saystrap slapped his into it, thus binding the bargain.

  Then the wizard gestured again and smoke arose to wreathe both him and his newly engaged servant When that cleared they had vanished and Ladizwell went to put a halter on the horse.

  At dawn the next day, Ladizwell was far from pleased when he went to the stable to inspect his new prize and found a rabbit nibbling the straw in the stall but no horse. However, he thought, at least he did not have to feed and clothe that slip-fingered lout for a year and a day, so perhaps he was still better off than he had been yesterday.

  Saystrap, back in his cave, was already making use of his new servant. To him this Joachim was a tool with neither wit nor will of his own. But the sooner he began to give what aid he could the better. Saystrap had to resolutely brush out of his mind visions of stone walls, treasure rooms, things pledged to his service; those were as heady as aged wine and not made to disturb working hours.

  There were brews boiled and drunk — by Joachim. And he had to be led, or pushed and pulled, through patterns drawn in red and black on the rough floor. But in the end Saystrap was satisfied with the preliminaries and went wearily to his hammock, leaving Joachim to huddle on a bed of bracken.

  At d
awn the wizard was up and busy again. He allowed Joachim a hasty — and to the lad very untasty — meal of dried roots and berries, hurrying him until Joachim was almost choking on the last begrudged bite or two. Then they took to the traveling cloud again and emerged from it not too far from the Market Cross of Hill Dallow. That is — there strode out of the cloud a man in a gray wool tunic leading a fine frisky two-year-old colt, as promising an animal as any one, lord or common, would want to lay eye on. And this was sold at the first calling in the horse fair for a bag of silver pieces heavy enough to weight a man’s belt in a satisfying manner.

  The colt was led home by the buyer and shown off as being an enviable bargain. But when the moon rose, Joachim stole out of the barn, dropping stall and door latch into place behind him. He shambled off to the far side of the pasture where Saystrap waited impatiently.

  This was a game they played several times over, always with a good gain thereby. Saystrap treated Joachim well enough — though more as if he were really a horse than any man. Which was Saystrap’s mistake. For Joachim might seem stupid, and be too thick of speech to talk with his fellows, but he was not correspondingly slow-witted. He learned from all he heard and saw his master do. Deep in him a small spark of ambition flared. There had not been anything about his father’s land which had ever brought that into being. For, no matter how hard he tried, his brother, without seeming to put forth any great effort, could ably outdo him. But this was another world than the farm.

  Then, by chance, he learned something which even Saystrap did not know, that spells were not always wedded to the spoken word.

  His master had sent him to gather herbs for brews. This was wild country and men seldom traveled it But furred and four-footed hunters had their own well-trodden trails.

  For all the barrenness of the wild land Joachim was glad enough to be alone in the open. For, after what he now thought of as the homy comforts of the farmhouse (even with his father’s caustic tongue, his brother’s sneers to dim his days), he found the cave very damp and dreary, and he missed the fields more than he would have believed possible. It seemed a very long time since he had had a chance to lie and watch the slow passing of clouds overhead, dream of what he might do if he had a sorcerer’s treasure now, or had been born into a lord’s family.

  But this day he found himself mulling over Saystrap’s doings rather than paying attention to clouds, and his onetime dreams. In his mind he repeated the words he had heard the wizard use in spells. By now the change spell, at least, was as familiar to him as his own name. Then he heard a sound and looked around — into the yellow-green eyes of a snow cat. It hissed a challenge and Joachim knew that here stalked death on four paws. So, he concentrated — without being sure of how or on what.

  The snow cat vanished! On the rock crouched a barn rat

  Joachim shivered. He put out his hand to test the reality of what he saw and the rat scuttled away squealing. Was this by any chance some ploy of Saystrap’s, meant to frighten him into his work? But — there was another way of testing. Joachim looked down at his own body. Did he dare? He thought again.

  Soft fur, paws with claws — he was a snow cat! Not quite believing, he leaped up, to bound along the ridge. Then he stopped beneath a rock spur, and thought himself a man again, more than a little frightened at his own act

  Then that fear became pride, the first time in his life he had cause to feel that. He was a wizard! But only in part. One spell alone could not make him a real one. He must learn more and more, and at the same time keep his secret from Saystrap if he could. Doubts about that gnawed him all the way back to the cave.

  The only trouble was that Saystrap no longer tried other spells. And the few scraps Joachim assembled from his master’s absent-minded mutterings were no help at all. Saystrap was concentrating on what he intended to be his greatest coup in shape-changing.

  “The harvest fair at Garth Haigis is the chance to make a good profit,” he told Joachim, mainly because he had to tell someone of his cleverness. “We must have something eye-catching to offer. A pity I cannot change you into a coffer of jewels. Then I could sell to more than one buyer. Only then, when the spell faded” — he laughed a little, evilly, and poked Joachim in the ribs with his staff-of-office — “you would be too widely scattered between one keep and the next ever to put you together again.” He was deep in thought now, running his long forenail back and forth across his teeth.

  “I wonder.” He eyed Joachim appraisingly. “A cow is bait only for a landsman. And we have dealt too often in horses; there might be someone with a long memory there. Ah!” He tapped the end of his staff on the rock. “A trained hunting falcon — such brings a gleam of avarice to any lord’s eye!”

  Joachim was uneasy. True enough, Saystrap’s trick had always worked smoothly. He had had no trouble freeing himself from barns and stables when the spell lifted. But keeps were better guarded and it might not be easy to flee out of those. Then he thought of his own secret He might, in the allotted time, cease to be Saystrap’s falcon, but that did not mean he had to become an easily recognized man.

  The fair at Garth Haigis was an important one. Joachim, wearing falcon shape, gazed about eagerly from his perch on Saystrap’s saddle horn. Men in booths remarked on the fine bird and asked its price. But the wizard set such a high one, they all shook their heads, though one or two went so far as to count the silver in their belt purses.

  Before noon a man wearing the Cross-Key badge of Lord Tanheff rode up to Saystrap.

  “A fine bird that, fit for a lord’s mews. My lord would like to look at it, Master Falconer.”

  So Saystrap rode behind the servant to the upper field where tents were set up for the comfort of the nobly born. There they summoned to them merchants with such wares as they found interesting.

  Lord Tanheff was a man of middle years and he had no son to lift shield after him. But his daughter, the Lady Juluya, sat at his right hand. Since she was a great heiress she had a goodly gathering of young lords, each striving to win her attention. It was her way to be fair and show no one favor over his fellows.

  She was small and thin, and had she not been an heiress none perhaps would have found her a beauty. But she had a smile which could warm a man’s heart (even if he forgot the gold and lands behind it), and eyes which were interested in all they saw. Once Joachim looked upon her he could not see anything else.

  Neither could Saystrap. It suddenly flashed into his mind as a great illuminating truth that there were other ways of gaining a keep than through difficult spells. One such way was marriage. He did not doubt that, could he gain access to the lady, he would win her. Was he not a wizard and so master of such subtleties that these clods sighing around her now could not imagine?

  His planned trickery might also be turned to account For if he sold Joachim to her father, and the bird apparently escaped and returned to him, then he could enter the lady’s own hall to bring it back, and with him would be other tricks. He could use the pretense of the strayed bird to open all doors.

  “Father — that falcon! It is a lordly bird,” the Lady Juluya cried as she saw Joachim.

  He felt the warmth of pride. Though she saw him as a bird, he was admired. Then he lost that pride. Let her see him as he really was and she would speedily turn away.

  Lord Tanheff was as pleased as his daughter and quickly struck a bargain with Saystrap. But the wizard whispered into the bird’s ear before he placed it on the gloved hand of the lord’s falconer:

  “Return swiftly tonight!”

  Joachim, still watching the Lady Juluya, did not really heed that order. For he was wondering why, at the moment of change, he could not wish himself into some guise which would bring him close to the lady. However, he did not have long to watch her, for the falconer took him to the keep. Joachim stood on a perch in the mews, hooded now and seeing nothing, left in the dark to get the feel of his new home as was the way with a bird in a strange place. He could hear other hawks moving restlessly,
and, beyond, the noises of the keep. He wondered how Saystrap thought he could get out of this place in man’s shape. Had the wizard some magic plan ready to cover that?

  Joachim guessed right there. The wizard knew that his falcon-turned-man could not leave the mews as easily as a landsman’s barn. He did not trust his assistant to have wits enough to work out any reasonable escape. He himself would move cautiously to effect Joachim’s release and not allow magic to be suspected, not when he planned to enchant the Lady Juluya. So Saystrap sat down in a copse near the keep to await moonrise.

  At sunset, however, the clouds gathered and it was plain that no moon would show. Saystrap could not summon moon magic now, but perhaps he could put the coming storm to account. If he could only be sure when Joachim’s change would occur, a matter with which he had never concerned himself before. Had it not been for his new plan to win the Lady Juluya, the wizard would not have cared what happened to Joachim. Stupid lads could always be found, but a wizard was entitled to keep his own skin safe. Lord Tanheff, if he did suspect spells, would be just the sort to appeal to a major sorcerer for protection. Saystrap, for all his self-esteem, was not blinded to his own peril from an encounter of that kind.

  He could not sit still, but paced back and forth, trying to measure time. To be too early would be as fatal as being too late. The cloud-traveling spell could not be held long, and if Joachim could not take to its cover at once, Saystrap could not summon it again that night. He bit his thumbnail, cursing the rain now beginning to fall.

  At the keep that same rain drove men to take cover indoors. Joachim heard footsteps in the mews, the voices of the falconer and his assistant. His time for change was close. He shifted on the perch and the bells fastened to his jesses rang. The footsteps were closing in and — the change was now!

  Suddenly he was standing on his own two feet, blinking into the light of a lantern the falconer held. The man’s mouth opened for a shout of alarm. Joachim thought his mind spell