[This story begins four months after Ben’s experiments with illusions, and about three years after the rogues arrived in Uslar.]
“Betsy, darling, Ah’ve got the urge to roam again,” complained Horace. “It’s been a long time since Ah’ve gone wandering, and the road is calling to me once more. Do you mind?”
“I always mind,” confessed Betsy, “but I’ve never stopped you from going. I know you need to go off for a while. I do worry about you when you’re gone, you know. Don’t be gone too long; this time you have children who’ll want to know where daddy is.”
Horace set off the next morning, riding east from Uslar, heading for the mountains south of the Hart River. He didn’t know what he’d find there, he almost never went anywhere on purpose. He just traveled. He loved exploring new lands, valleys, mountains, towns. When the band reached some town he had never seen before, he liked to walk around looking at the buildings constructed in styles he didn’t know. When he wandered alone, it was to see new things, meet new people, drink new beers.
“Why did he go off by himself?” asked Polly. “Wouldn’t he be safer if some of us went with him? I know he can take care of himself, but one man can be an easy target for half a dozen bandits. He can’t sleep and keep watch at the same time, after all.”
“Horace has done this as long as I’ve known him,” countered Betsy. “Every once in a while he wants to go off on his own, traveling nowhere in particular, looking for nothing, wanting to see anything of interest. When he was young and a rogue he traveled a lot, as we all have. He quit and went back home, but soon after was hired by his baron as a guard. He traveled a lot with the baron, and then the count.
“After rescuing me, we were on the run for a long time. Travel, travel, travel. We took work guarding a merchant’s caravans, more travel. But he wasn’t on the road all the time. After a few months, with a few more before we headed out again, Horace would just go for a ride. Anywhere, just to travel. Wanderlust, he calls it.
“Since joining with Vince and Jenny we’ve had plenty of traveling. The last few years we’ve been settled here in Uslar though. Three years here; this is the longest he’s stayed in one place and not gone wandering. At first, he was curious, watching Ben become a wizard. And he was busy helping train the count’s army, and then the king’s army. The last couple of years I think he’s just enjoyed having two children to keep his attention.
“But now the call of the road is too strong. He’s not looking for something in particular. He doesn’t think there’s some wonderful town or city so full of fabulous architecture that he will want to move there. He wants to stay here. With me. With our children. With Ben. With you and the others. But not today. Today he wants to roam. Don’t worry, he’ll come back soon enough and in a better mood.”
Horace rode for several days climbing into the foothills that led to the mountains. He stopped at inns for the first few days, until the towns turned to villages, and the villages became rarer and rarer. The climb became steeper, too. Foothills became small mountains which became large mountains. There were no roads but passing through the mountains was easy enough for someone used to rough travel.
He had started out hoping to find some new towns, with new ways of constructing their houses. Wooden houses in the lower hills gave way to stone houses, but the villages stopped when the hills became mountains. The trees grew thicker as he went uphill, turning into a dense forest. No fields, no farms, no houses. On his second night in the mountains he was collecting some dead branches for firewood. He had gathered an armful and was bringing them back to his campsite when he heard a voice.
“Please don’t build a fire here.”
Horace looked around and saw a figure standing next to a tree nearby. It looked like a man, about five and a half feet tall. He was dressed in buckskin, but his skin was mottled brown and green. “Kind of like a calico cat,” that’s how that man in Rennigen described elves. So this has gotta be an elf. He speaks Humanish, at least.
“Ah’m sorry, Ah didn’t know Ah was in elf territory,” apologized Horace. “Ah’m surprised, too, that you speak Humanish.”
“I am Brarrsarrl, a border watcher, responsible for guarding the limits of our woods. Many humans live to the north of these mountains, so I’ve learned their speech. It makes it easier to settle disputes if we have a language in common. We trade our dead trees and downed branches to them as lumber and firewood. They give us metal tools in exchange, also some foodstuffs.
“But we do not want outsiders wandering carelessly through our realm. A campfire is a comfort to you, but a threat to our woods, our home. You are welcome to pass through our land if you agree to not use fire here.”
“Yes, of course. My name is Horace. Ah have some already cooked food with me, so Ah don’t need a fire tonight. How far does your forest extend? Ah entered these woods yesterday, and built a fire last night. No one told me Ah was in elvish lands. Was Ah then?”
“Yes, but you couldn’t have known. Our forest extends for many days travel east through these mountains, starting where you came in. The humans to the north tell us that our realm is quite large, but we really don’t have any basis for comparison. Anyway there are no human villages near that edge of the woods, so we don’t watch that border very closely. If you wish to travel farther into our realm, I can find you a guide who can lead you to safe places to build a small fire. We are protective of our trees, but find it easier to offer compromises to our visitors than to argue with them.
“Thank you. Ah don’t know how much farther Ah want to go. Ah may just turn back in the morning rather than risk offending your people somehow. Ah was only traveling to see new things, not going anywhere special.”
“Humans are so strange. We elves almost never leave our forests, but humans go all over the world, never staying put in one place. Do you mind if I join you in your camp tonight? It’s getting late and elves and humans share a preference to sleep overnight.”
Brarrsarrl pulled a turnip and some fruit from a pack on his back and began to eat. Horace took a smoked ham hock from his pack and ate it. They sat and talked for several hours, trading information about their worlds and lives. In the morning, as Horace was packing up to return to Uslar, Brarrsarrl interrupted him.
“If you’re truly not in a hurry to go home, and if you really want to see new things, perhaps you’d like to visit an elf community. Our ruler, ‘king’ you’d say, lives a day’s travel to the east. We learned the word ‘king’ from humans a very long time ago. It means much the same as our Elvish word, but it’s shorter for elves and easier to say for humans, and so we’ve adopted it. He was also a border watcher in his youth, and speaks Humanish. He will welcome you as a guest and you might find our way of living interesting.”
Brarrsarrl led the way through the forest, along what Horace recognized easily as a deer trail. He had crossed several the last two days, but this was the first one going east. The elf had an easy, loping gait and ducked agilely under the branches that Horace, on his horse, had to brush aside. They arrived at the king’s home by early evening.
Horace was surprised. He saw no buildings, no shelters until he looked up. Overhead, scattered randomly over a large part of the woods, were “things” in the trees. As he looked at them, he realized they were living branches, growing from the trees but woven together to make structures. The elves lived in living houses built in and of their trees. He noticed that all the trees were easy to climb, but didn’t know enough about trees to know if this was natural or designed by the elves.
“This is our king, Rurrpiturrier,” Brarrsarrl introduced Horace to an elf with long green hair. Horace noticed for the first time that Brarrsarrl’s head was smooth and hairless. “This is Horace, a human from the west who is traveling to see new things. I thought seeing our homes might appeal to him.”
“ Ah am deeply honored to meet Your Majesty,” greeted Horace with a deep bow.
“Oho, what behavior! Such flowery speech, ‘your majesty,’ oh my! And a bow! Please stop that or my elves will think they have to do such things. We’re a very modest people. Titles and special treatment are things that humans do. I’ve seen it in your villages and towns when I was young. But we all work here, tending the forest, growing our food, doing all the things needed to survive.
“We all have to work together because there are fewer elves than humans. A single human town I saw contained as many humans in its small walled area as there are elves in all my realm here, very nearly. So I may be called the king, but I’m just another gatherer of roots and fruits.”
Horace noticed that a crowd was growing around him, elves looking at the novelty of a human in their camp. They compared his plain leather traveling clothes with their own highly decorated buckskins. They looked at the axe hanging down his back, and the sword at his side.
Horace pulled his axe from his back to let the elves see it better.
“Tell ’em it’s very sharp,” he cautioned Brarrsarrl. “ Ah wouldn’t want anyone to get cut by accident.”
“Come, let us have a feast to welcome our guest Horace,” declared Rurrpiturrier. “We use this central open area for feasting when we have guests, Horace. Normally we eat in our own houses. Don’t worry about the food, you’ll find plenty to like. We often eat insects, which seems to offend humans. But we eat other foods as well. We trade some of our dead trees to humans for steers, pigs, and sheep. We also eat deer and other forest animals.
“We can’t cook them, of course, but we do pickle them. We also buy smoked meats from the humans for the variety. I have eaten cooked meat, and do find it tasty. However, fires are strictly forbidden in elf forests. Think what destruction would ensue if a fire got out of control here.”
Horace enjoyed the meal, and was pleasantly surprised when he was given a drinking horn filled with beer.
“Where did you git such a wonderful beer, Rurrpiturrier?” he asked. “Ah’m a great connoisseur of beer and know that brewing requires heat, which means fire.”
“Ah, yes, our one legal exception to the rule about fire,” admitted Rurrpiturrier. “Centuries ago when we first began to trade with humans, we were offered beer and wine in exchange for our timber. We liked the taste and continued to trade for it. Eventually, we learned how to brew our own beer.
“We grow our own grains and hops in fields in forest clearings. We do our brewing in the mountains where there are large flat stony areas. We take great care with the fires for the brewing, and always brew a large batch all at once. This way we don’t have to have fires too often.
“We’d like to do our brewing in a better place, all enclosed with stone. But it’s haunted and no one dares to go there. You may see it in the morning. The rising sun makes the stone shine white against the forest.
“Unfortunately, our current human trading partners do not produce wine. I’ve traveled and seen wine made, but our neighbors import it from somewhere else and sell it to us. They tell us wine is made from grapes, but the grapes we have in our forest aren’t the right kind apparently. Anyway, they don’t know how to make wine, so we just buy from them.”
After the feast there was entertainment. Several elves sang to the tune of lutes and pipes, tunes happy or sad, lively or dramatic. Horace didn’t understand them, but admired the sound of them. Then all the elves began to dance around the feasting area. Horace stood and swayed to the music, but found the dance steps rather confusing.
In the morning Horace awoke early and looked around the elf camp. Most of the elves were still asleep in their own houses in the trees, but a few were fetching water from some nearby stream or making a gruel from grain and cold water. He stood up, remembered where they had sent him the night before to relieve himself, and started to walk that way. Up ahead, a few miles away, shone the white top of some ancient tower, gleaming in the morning sun.
That’s gotta be their “haunted” place. It looks beautiful with the sun hitting it like this. Maybe they’ll give me a guide to git there later.
After a quick breakfast of gruel and fruit, Horace asked Brarrsarrl about the tower in the distance.
“Could someone guide me to that castle? Ah’d like to see it up close.”
“Oh, no, don’t even think about that!” exclaimed Brarrsarrl. “That tower is haunted and it’s certain death for anyone to go into it. No elf has gone there in hundreds of years, not since we first came into this area. Our wise men say that this part of our realm used to be occupied by humans a very long time ago. That must be why this building is here. You called it a ‘castle?’ I’ve heard the word, but I never knew what it meant. Anyway, our wise men say there was a great war among humans, and this land became depopulated. The trees began to grow back, and we came to tend them. This thing was here when we arrived, just as it is now, they say. And it was haunted even then. A dead man lives there and will kill any being who enters his house.
“A castle dating back to before the Big War! Amazing! Ah must see it up close.”
“No, that is not allowed!” objected Rurrpiturrier forcefully, coming up to them. “It is not safe, even for a human. The dead human who lives there will kill you just as easily as he will kill an elf. Your very sharp axe will not help you against him. I have few powers as king of the elves, but I can, and do, forbid you to go there, or for any elf to take you there. This is final!”
“Well, then Ah’ll just go home,” replied Horace, disappointed. “ Ah won’t offend your hospitality by trying to visit that tower. Ah’ve enjoyed my stay with you and your people, Rurrpiturrier. Perhaps we may meet again, if Ah should travel this way another time.”
Brarrsarrl went with Horace, showing him the shortest way out of the forest. Horace knew he was really there to make sure Horace did not go to the “haunted” castle. Ah gave my word that Ah wouldn’t go there, but they don’t know me very well. They seemed trusting enough about other things, but not this. Oh, well, Brarrsarrl’s good company for the trip.
***
Betsy greeted Horace happily as he came through the gate of the mansion. Their children were crowding around, too, adding their welcomes to hers. Fearless the cat curled around his leg in welcome.
“You look very happy, dear,” observed Betsy. “You must have had a good wander. See anything of interest?”
“Indeed, Ah did. Ah ran into some elves in the forest of the eastern mountains. Very pleasant, sociable people they are, too. Ah’ll tell all of you about it at dinner tonight. Now, how about a nice welcome home kiss and cuddle?”
Ben’s school for wizards was still a small effort. He had had to spend too much time in the first years in Uslar just translating the texts of the Treatise and the grimoires. Then he needed to learn the techniques before he could teach them to others. The only students he had in the early days were Polly, Duncan, Tania, and Joan. Now a few new students were coming in. Joan was still young and lived with her parents in Uslar, and Tania spent her evenings with her husband in town. Only Duncan and the new students lived in the mansion with the rogues, and shared their table.
Horace’s story of the elves enthralled everyone at the table. They kept him busy answering their questions about elf life.
“So there’s no town or village?” asked Vince. “They just live in the trees near each other?”
“That’s perty much it,” Horace informed them. “You’ve seen lots of human farming villages. Some have a village full of houses, surrounded by just the farm fields. Some have a village, with fewer houses, surrounded by houses on farms all over. Just imagine that sort of arrangement, without the central village. Farmhouses here and there, with their fields, but no village. Elves are sort of like that, but all the houses are up in the trees.”
“Why did you just stay the one night?” asked Betsy. “I know what interests you, and I’d have expected you to spend more time learning even more about them. You said they were friendly. Why not stay longer?”
“ Ah might have, but Ah saw this here tower sticking out of the forest in the morning and wanted to see it. They absolutely refused to let me go there. They said it was haunted by a dead man living there, who would kill anyone who entered. Ah knew if Ah stayed, it woulda just tempted me over and over to go take a look. So, rather than offend them, Ah just left.”
“A tower?” asked Ben. “What kind of tower? Fat, skinny, tall, short?”
“Ah could only see the top above the trees, shining in the morning sun. Don’t know how tall it mighta been. Not skinny, but not too fat, either, as far as Ah could see. What difference does it make?”
“I had another dream of Humoparmia, several actually, and in all of ’em She’s showin’ me a tower stickin’ up above a tree line. I think She’s givin’ me a clue to somethin’ important. The Gods don’t always speak clearly to Their priests. She’s always pushed me to work hard, to earn Her support. She didn’t say why She was showin’ me this tower, and I have no way to know where this tower is. But if you saw a mysterious tower, maybe it’s the same one. Did it look like this?”
Ben cast an illusion of the image he had dreamed. A stone tower rose above a forest. There was nothing particularly distinctive about the tower or the forest. No flag flew over the top of the tower, no smoke wafted up from its hidden chimneys. Just an unknown tower in an unknown location.
“That’s it, Ben!” shouted Horace. “That’s the tower Ah saw from the elf camp. Ah know it is! And Ah know that look in your eye. You want to go there, don’t you?”
“You’ve let me do what I wanted to do for so long, create a school of magic, the first in Orilon in three centuries. You encouraged me, never said no to anythin’ I asked. You’ve all been the best friends I could ever want. Six years ago no one believed in magic anymore. Then I showed that it still existed. Now we have many wizards here. Me, Polly, Duncan, Tania, and Joan, and all our other students. We’re still learnin’, but we’re all quite accomplished wizards. I want to have as much of the old wizard lore to learn as possible. What’s the point of having the only wizard school in Orilon if we don’t try to learn all we can about magic?
“Humoparmia sent me that dream for a reason. The Gods don’t normally like to play games with us. She’s sometimes praised my abilities, and my inventiveness in creatin’ new feats. I get the feelin’, which is sometimes all I have from Her, that She’s gettin’ me ready for somethin’ important. I don’t know what, but I want to find out.
“So this raises a question. Would you like to go on the road again? I know it’s nice livin’ here in comfort, not worryin’ about rain, bandits, and saddle sores. We’ve been settled down here for three years now. But maybe a little trip as a change of pace. Would anyone want to do it?”
“We have children now, you realize,” Polly reminded him. “I distinctly remember seeing you dandling your son on your knee just before dinner, teaching him to be careful playing with fire fingers.”
“Yes, but they’re not newborn anymore. And I don’t think we’ll be gone more than two or three weeks, a month tops. Look, I’m askin’ because you’re my friends. This might be somethin’ really big for me, and I’d like to share the experience with you.”
The discussion continued for a couple of hours, but they all knew they were going on a trip.
***
The packed a lot of cooked meats for the trip. Horace remembered his route into the mountains. When Brarrsarrl led him back out, he turned every so often to check for landmarks to mark the way in. Ben had insisted on going back to the elves’ camp to talk to their king.
“You didn’t want to offend ’em by sneaking off to see the castle,” he told Horace. “I don’t want to offend ’em either. You saw bows and knives in their camp. They may have other weapons as well. We may be the toughest band of rogues anywhere, but can we really fight hundreds of elves? I’d rather talk to ’em first.”
“I didn’t think you’d be coming back so soon,” Brarrsarrl greeted them, stepping out from behind a tree halfway through their second day in the forest. “Did you think that bringing some friends would make it easier for you to see the forbidden castle? Rurrpiturrier said you couldn’t, shouldn’t, mustn’t go there. Wasn’t that clear enough?”
“It’s true Ah’d like to see the castle,” admitted Horace. “But we’re here because my friend Ben, here, wants to see it even more than Ah do. This is Brarrsarrl, the border watcher, and a nice, friendly elf. Tell him, Ben, why you want to see the tower.”
Ben explained that he was a wizard, and that his Goddess had sent him a vision of this tower. He understood this to be a sign to him to go there for some reason. He proved his status as a wizard and the dream by showing the illusion of the tower.
“Magic doesn’t exist. Magic can’t exist. Even we elves, isolated in our forests, know that. But this does look like magic. I will believe you; however you still can’t go to the castle. Rurrpiturrier will be very unhappy to hear that you want to go there despite his order.”
“Please allow me to talk to him,” begged Ben. “Perhaps I can persuade him to let us visit this place. Can it hurt for us to ask him?”
“I was supposed to turn you back, Horace,” Brarrsarrl disclosed, and sighed. “All right, come with me. Rurrpiturrier will be unhappy with me that I didn’t stop you, but he will be more unhappy with you for wanting to disobey him.”
***
“Horace said that you appreciated a fine wine, Rurrpiturrier,” offered Ben. “So I brought this keg of our best wine as a present for you and your people.”
“Do you think that offering bribes will get me to change my mind?” grumbled Rurrpiturrier. “Horace, I enjoyed our previous meeting, but you should not have come back, not for this. Nor should you have brought your friends, clad in armor and bearing weapons. Do you visit your friends back home fully armed?”
“No, Rurrpiturrier, unless they live at some long distance from my house,” agreed Horace. “Your camp here is several days journey from where Ah live, through mountains, through forests you do not control. There are dangers on such a journey, and weapons and armor are only normal precautions. We will gladly disarm now that we are here.”
“That assumes that I’ll let you stay here,” warned Rurrpiturrier. “I should send you away at once. But night is coming on, and it would be rude to turn you out at night. It is not the elf way of hospitality. And I would fear that you would go to the tower in the dark, disregarding my order. You do not feel any need to respect my position as ruler of these elves. You do not have their love for me. To you, I’m just someone standing in the way of your desires. You will disarm now. You will camp here, in this clear space, for the night. In the morning we will escort all of you from the forest.”
“Rurrpiturrier, please listen to me for a few minutes,” asked Ben. “I’m a wizard, and my Goddess, Humoparmia, sent me a vision of that tower. Even now, in the dusk, I can see that your tower is the one She showed me. As proof that I am a wizard, here is the image She sent me. Just the same, you see. You want us to fear and respect your rank, but shouldn’t we also fear and respect the Gods we serve? She sent me this vision for a reason. Can I ignore Her? Should I?
“I don’t know what Gods the elves worship, but I doubt that you brush off their expressed wishes. Can man or elf disregard the Gods with impunity?
“You say that this castle is haunted, that anyone who enters will be killed by the dead man who lives inside. But you also say that no one has gone into the tower in a very long time. So how do you know that it’s still haunted? Even if it is, the risk is ours, not yours nor any elf’s. If we’re willin’ to face the danger, should you worry about us? You won’t lose any of your people if we die. Besides, I am a wizard. Perhaps I’ll be able to dispel this hauntin’.
“I have one other argument to offer. Horace told us you wanted to move your beer brewin’ to the castle because it was all stone. Fire could not get out of it and damage your beloved forest. If we can remove the hauntin’, you’ll have the use of this stone buildin’, a safe place for you to brew.”
“You are very glib, wizard,” admitted Rurrpiturrier. “We care about our Gods as much as humans care about theirs. I’m not worried about losing elves in the castle if you go into it. I worry about your deaths. I don’t know you, but I still care about your safety. Yes, I admit the stone castle would be a fine place for our brewing, but we do fear the thing inside. I told Horace he was forbidden to go there. I tell you the same thing. You may not, must not go there. This is my last word on this subject.”
“I thought you had him, Ben,” confessed Jenny as they spread their blankets on the ground. “I’ve heard Vince persuade people into doing things they really didn’t want to do. I’ve heard you, with your magical persuasion which is even better. This was excellent. Are elves immune to your talents?”
“I don’t think so,” countered Ben. “My persuasive magic only works if someone is willin’ to go along with it. Someone who is a bit tired is easy to put to sleep because he’s already eager to sleep. If Rurrpiturrier was just a little bit ready to let us go, we’d have gotten permission. Or maybe elves are less susceptible to my persuasion than I think.
“Anyway, I’m going to go to sleep early because I want to go to that castle later tonight. I’ve got a good idea of where the tower top is, and I’m going to travel there by magic. I have my finger for light inside. I just want to take a look around and see what’s there.”
“Ben, do you think it’s wise to risk irritating Rurrpiturrier?” asked Betsy. “I’m not worried about dead men living in the castle, because that can’t happen. But if the castle dates back to before the Big War, that means it’s been abandoned for more than three hundred years. What condition will it be in?”
“I can jump back here magically if I have to,” declared Ben. “I’ll be back before dawn, so no one should notice I’ve gone anywhere.”
“Do you want me to come with, dear?” asked Polly. “An extra light, an extra pair of eyes.”
“No, love, because if I’m wrong about the danger, you’re the only one who can jump there and pull me out. Let’s sleep now.”
***
The pale light of one moon cast a faint light on the tower, which made it easier for Ben to make his jump. Fortunately for him, he had visited other castle towers over the last few years, and castle design had not changed much in hundreds of years. He landed on a flat stone roof where the defenders must have mustered in the old days. He saw a staircase going down, lit his finger, and started down.
Twenty easy, wide steps took him to a large room on one side. The stairs had been solid, with square edges and no breaks. The window frames in the room seemed empty, but there was no night breeze coming in. The floor, furnishings, tables, chairs, a bare bed, were covered in a light coat of dust, but less than he thought centuries would’ve brought. The walls were delicately painted with various designs, still looking fresh after all these years.
He walked to one of the windows and put his hand to it. It was solid, an invisible, clear wall. I know how to do that feat. I never thought to use the solid air wall to make a window shutter. Very clever of him. A wizard must have lived here, but how is his feat still workin’ after all this time? Does magic never end? I guess not, Vince’s knife is still sharp after three hundred years or more.
Twenty more easy steps led to another large room much like the one above. There was no bed, but it held several tables and chairs. It looked to him like a parlor or sitting room for someone important. There was a desk at one side of the room, but nothing rested on its surface. He sat on the chair by the desk, and it held him without creaking, cracking, or breaking.
Another set of stairs brought Ben to the main level of the tower. It was obviously not very tall, after all. A corridor ran straight ahead from the stairs, north, he thought. Another at right angles led to the right, or east. The corridor ahead seemed to be larger, so Ben started to walk carefully down it. There were more murals on these walls, showing historic or mythic stories he didn’t know.
Before he had taken more than a few steps, however, he felt a mental tug, an urge to go the other way instead. Two more steps and the urge became a fierce pull. He stopped, looked ahead, looked back at the other passage, and took one step back. Now he felt pushed, instead of pulled. He continued on down the other passage.
A door just inside the corridor opened onto a dining room, with a long elegant table of rich walnut. Chairs and sideboards lined the walls, and a chandelier with dozens of candles hung, unlit, overhead. Another door was on the far wall, but Ben didn’t go to it. There was a long stretch to the next doorway on the opposite side of the corridor. The door was carved with a picture of Humoparmia, just as She appeared in the books Ben had. He opened the door.
Ben knew at once what he saw inside. This is a library. There’s no question about that. I’ve seen libraries in the Temples of Grasilos when we’ve visited ’ em. I’ve seen Natamurk’s small library. I’ve seen my own library of grimoires. I know what a library looks like. It looks like this. But how could this be a library? If this castle is over three hundred years old, there shouldn’t be any books left. They should all have rotted away. No, wait, they’re covered in dragon skin that keeps out the damp, water, anythin’ that’ll ruin the book, as Orville told us. My goodness! A whole library of grimoires! I never imagined so many in one place.
A statue of Humoparmia stood against the back wall of the room, with an altar before it. Ben went up to the altar and paused. I should make a sacrifice to Her at this altar. But what should I offer? I brought nothin’ with me. She never asks for anythin’ grand. Our hearts in devotion, our minds in service to Her. I have given Her those always. Perhaps, for today, I should offer somethin’ more personal.
He cut his finger and let a drop of blood fall onto the altar. Then Ben heard Humoparmia speaking to him again.
Welcome, Ben, to the castle of Grarnihorn, a great wizard, not the greatest who ever lived but one of them. He was a particular favorite of Mine. He was devout in worshiping Me. He was dedicated to spreading the study of magic to others. He created this library, literally, by writing all the volumes you see here before you. This is all of his knowledge of magic, written by him, guided by Me.
I would never have given this to you if you did not deserve it, Ben. This is a treasure of learning that only a great wizard should acquire. You healed Jenny with a magic that was never used before, that no one else ever thought of, and before you even understood what magic was. I was mightily impressed. You have mastered other magical feats faster than most wizards have in the distant past. You have seen and developed talent among your friends, and learned from them as well as teaching them.
You recently learned the art of illusions, and went, in very little time, from making a simple imitation to an active, dynamic figure that moves. I was very surprised, that usually takes a wizard much longer to master. It is time for you to receive your proper reward for your devotion to Me, and for your talents.
All these books are yours now. You may do with them as you wish. Take them to your home, make copies for others to study, teach your students from them. All are written in Humanish, not the imitation language some wizards used to hide their knowledge. Grarnihorn never wanted to hide magic from others. Take My statue and altar and install them in your home. I will enjoy being worshiped by you at Grarnihorn’s altar.
Grarnihorn protected his castle with a feat no one else had ever done before him, and which no one else has done since. It is in his books for you to discover. He taught it to others, as he always taught his feats, but no one could ever duplicate it. As long as the feat is in force, this castle will survive unchanged. Earthquakes, lightning bolts, the strongest storms will have no effect on it.
He used the same feat on himself. You will find him in his great hall, down the other hallway. If you break the feat on him there, it will also break the feat on the castle. The castle will not immediately collapse, but it will begin to deteriorate from that moment on. He built a mausoleum for his burial, but when he died, no one was aware of this, and he remains unburied.
When you have dismissed the protection he placed on his body, put him in his mausoleum, and say the prayers to Death. He left instructions in his hand for the use of his funeral party, but there was none. Do this as a courtesy to the dead. Do this as a way to thank him for what he is giving you.
The voice faded to nothing. He looked at the books lining the walls, dozens of them. Mine! All for me! And Polly, and Duncan, and Joan, and, well, everybody. There’s too many here for me to take back with me now. I’ll have to come back with wagons to cart them away.
What a fantastic feat that must have been, must still be, to continue protectin’ everythin’ for so long. The stairs still solid and unbroken. The invisible walls as windows, still standin’. The furniture covered only in a film of dust, but hardly three centuries’ worth, and still strong. What a marvelous wizard he must have been! Humoparmia said he was in the great hall. I must find him.
Ben went back up the corridor and turned north into the other passage. It led to a very large room, what must have been the castle’s great hall. The corridor came into the side of the hall, which faced a large doorway standing in the north wall. Ben entered the hall and the light on his finger shone on a strange sight.
In the center of the hall, facing the large, carved door, was a tall wooden chair with armrests, a throne perhaps. A small table stood to one side, with an empty goblet and an unstoppered decanter standing on it. A glowing figure was seated on the throne. A man with a long white beard, long white hair, and a placid face sat with his arms stretched on the sides of the throne. He glowed with a faint, sickly shade of green. He was dressed in an ancient style of clothing made with expensive materials. His left hand held a small piece of parchment with writing on it. His funeral instructions, how to undo his feat and release his body to decay.
There could be no doubt about the man being dead. He sat stiffly, not noticing Ben, staring straight ahead of himself, at the doorway. No wonder they think the castle is haunted, comin’ through the door and seein’ this figure, sittin’ here, glowin’. Grarnihorn. He must have been a very powerful wizard to create a feat that still works after all this time.
Ben could feel something about the man, something he had felt slightly ever since coming into the tower. Suddenly he realized what it was. It was a sense of magical power around him. He never noticed such a thing with his magic, or any of his students. But here, in front of this man, Ben couldn’t help but feel the magic at work in this whole tower. Humoparmia had told him about the feat, and its power was evident from its duration. But here, where it had originated, the power of that feat was immense. Ben knelt before the long dead man and kissed his glowing hand in respect.
The protection feat protects the tower and everything in it. I can leave that feat active, and Humoparmia says that I should. If it’s still good after three centuries, it’ll work forever maybe. The old man can be removed to his mausoleum. Give him a proper burial. Vince knows the prayers. Without him scarin’ people at the door, maybe they’ll think the hauntin’ is over.
Will that solve the elves’ problem? They won’t let me bring wagons here as long as it’s haunted. How will Rurrpiturrier feel about my comin’ here tonight against his will? Wait, what was in this decanter on the table? Wine, probably. Evaporated despite the protection feat. Is there more somewhere? A wine cellar? Would it still be good after three centuries? Maybe if the casks are unopened. Unopened and covered by the protective feat. Humoparmia said the castle would not collapse immediately if the feat was dispelled, only start to age again. So any wine might still be good. I hope so, because it may tame Rurrpiturrier’s wrath if I can bring him some.
Ben sighed, went back to the library for one last look at the treasure of grimoires he had found, and jumped back to the elves’ camp. No one was awake, so no one noticed him. He crawled back under his blanket and slept.
***
In the morning, Polly poked Ben in the ribs, waking him up. He looked around and the others were already up and watching him.
“Well? What did you find?” asked Polly. “You were gone a long time. I pretended to be asleep when you returned, but I was worried about you being gone so long.”
“Polly, and my dear friends, I was blessed by Humoparmia last night. A wizard named Grarnihorn, whom She called one of the greatest wizards who ever lived, lived there. I once wanted to find a wizard’s castle, and now we have. Horace found it, I’ve been inside it, and now I must persuade Rurrpiturrier to let all of us go there.
“Inside is Grarnihorn’s library. It’s immense, shelves filled with volumes. Every volume written by him, in Humanish, so no translatin’. Every feat he knew is in these books. I’m havin’ trouble imaginin’ how much magical lore is there. There are dozens of volumes, more than we can carry away today. We’ll need wagons to move them. And a statue and altar to Humoparmia. I want everythin’.”
“This is wonderful, Ben,” exclaimed Vince. “Now I understand why you wanted us to come along. This is a great day, and thank you for sharing it with us.”
“Did you know when you asked us to come along that you’d find this?” asked Betsy.
“No, just that Humoparmia wanted me to come here for some reason. She says that I have proved my ability and my devotion to Her, and that I now deserve this treasure. I, well, I feel so humbled by this. She had thought about giving it to me when I healed you, Jenny, without any magical knowledge at all. That impressed Her incredibly, but She wanted me to prove I was truly capable of doing serious magic. I guess I am.”
Rurrpiturrier came up as they were celebrating Ben’s good news.
“Why are you so happy? I told you last night that you must leave our forest today. This did not please you then, so why do you celebrate now?”
“Rurrpiturrier,” Ben confessed, “I ignored your order last night, and went to the tower. I found that it contains a great library of books on magic, written by a great wizard named Grarnihorn. I want to take that library and some other things away with me. I also learned how to end the hauntin’ of the castle. If you’ll just let us go there today, by tomorrow anyone, human or elf, who wants to enter can do so freely and safely.”
“You ignored my order!” roared Rurrpiturrier. “You disobeyed me and then want to take away from here things that belong to the elves of this forest. For anything in this forest is ours, anything! Anything here belongs to elves now, whoever may have put it here once. And then you want me to simply forget what I have ordered, for your convenience! This is outrageous! No! Absolutely not!”
“Please, Rurrpiturrier, let me say a word to you,” pleaded Horace. “We got on well when Ah was here two weeks ago. We talked freely about many things. We did not talk about elf Gods, though. Ah’m sure you have Gods and that you worship ’ Em. Do you, as king, outrank your Gods? Or do They outrank you?”
“Outrank the Gods! What a blasphemous idea! Of course They rule over me as well as all other elves.”
“So if the Gods told you to do something, you’d have to do it, right?”
“Yes, it is always desirable to honor the words of the Gods, and to obey Their commands.”
“That is what Ben was doing,” explained Horace. “His Goddess told him to come to this tower and take away these old books, and some other things. You have yourself said how we must obey the Gods.”
“Bah! Now you are playing games with words. Even the Gods have respect for the rules made to protect our people. Don’t try to fool me with fancy talk.”
“All right, I have one last argument to make. Ah did not want to use this plea, but it’s all Ah have left. Ah left here before ’cause Ah did not want to offend you by going to the tower on my own. You’da tried to stop me and there mighta been fighting. Ah did not want to ruin our friendly relations.
“Ben don’t want to offend you either, but he needs to perform this religious task. And he has the means to do so, with or without your permission. He has magical powers and can come and go where he wishes, when he wishes. Ben, you only showed him the illusory image last night. Jump to me here, now.”
Ben standing across the clearing, suddenly disappeared and stood next to Horace. He braced himself, grabbed Horace around his waist, and vanished again. When he popped up again in a third place, he set Horace down with a grin.
“You see, Rurrpiturrier,” declared Horace, “Ben can go where he wants, and remove even something as big as Ah am to somewhere else. He can take these books if he wants to, and you cain’t stop him. You cain’t stop him because no elf will enter that castle. You cain’t stop him because he comes and goes without warning.
“He don’t want to steal these books from you. He wants to make a trade with you. There are things that elves want and don’t make for themselves. Wine, for instance. Metal tools. Ben will give you what you want, in whatever quantity you want. And he will remove the dead man haunting the castle for you. What more could you want? He wishes to respect your authority by getting your permission, rather than just taking what he wants. Please, sir, let him have his books.”
“Rurrpiturrier, we should discuss this,” advised Brarrsarrl. “I understand that you dislike your authority being challenged, and by humans at that. But they have said some things that make some sense. We have no use for their books. Being written in Humanish, few of us could read them. We should not keep Ben from his religious duty. We do want to use the tower for our brewing, if only it wasn’t haunted. Call a full meeting of the elves and let us debate this matter.
“You’ve been a border watcher and know how pushy some humans are. They think they can ignore what elves say and do whatever they want. Ben acted this way last night, but this morning he confessed what he had done. How often do humans do that? He was led to do this by his Goddess. We guard our forests, and try to expand them, in obedience to what our Gods order. Can we blame him for obeying a higher command?”
“You are right Brarrsarrl,” admitted Rurrpiturrier. “I should not let my personal anger lead me into bad decisions. We will put this question to all the elves. By our laws the humans cannot take part in the discussion, so would you be willing to speak for them? You’ve heard their arguments, and seem prepared to agree with them. Is this acceptable to you, Horace, and Ben?”
“Yes, Rurrpiturrier, we agree to this,” replied Horace. “And we will both abide by whatever decision the elves make.”
“I can’t do that, Horace,” objected Ben. “As Brarrsarrl said, I have a duty to Humoparmia, to my office as Her priest, to take those books, that statue and altar home with me. I won’t steal ’ em from these elves. You’ve told ’ em I could, but wouldn’t, and I won’t make you a liar. I don’t want to offend ’ em in their home. But I won’t rest until I have these things.
“If the decision goes against me today, I’ll come back again. I’ll offer new arguments. I’ll offer new presents. I’ll continue to ask for your permission until I receive it. I do not say this to threaten you. This is your land, your forest. You should make the laws that govern it, and all who live here or visit here.
“I also do not say this merely to irritate you. Horace told us how well you treated him on his last visit. I came here prepared to like you as much as he does. I still want to like you and your fellow elves. We have a difference of opinion about these books and objects. Opinions can be discussed and changed.
“Yes, I have been pushy about this, like the human I am. I’m sorry, but I can’t give up my quest to get these things. But I can offer you things in return. True pushiness is one-way. Give me what I want, and you get nothin’. But I want to give you somethin’ in trade for what I want. Just tell me what you want. Whatever it is, I will give it to you if I am able to.”
Rurrpiturrier said something in Elvish and the elves went into the woods to the south. Vince and the others watched them walking off and sat on the ground. They passed around their food packs and had a late breakfast.
“You can’t fight them, Ben,” Jenny pointed out. “They don’t wear armor here, but we don’t at home, either. They may not have armor, I don’t know, but they do have weapons. They hunt for food, they have some way to protect their forest. We don’t know how many elves live in this part of the forest, or how many they can call from other parts. We have good weapons and good armor, but there are still only six of us.”
“I wasn’t thinking of fightin’ ’ em, Jenny,” countered Ben. “I see the odds against us as well as you do. Even with magic, it would be hard to beat a large force. Some of us would die. I couldn’t live with myself if I caused the death of any of my friends. No, I just want to be stubborn. I’ll come back again, and again, and again. I’ll offer them cooked meats. I’ll offer them my super sharp knives. I’ll offer them vines to grow wine.
“Wine. I’ll give ’ em wine. I’ll give ’ em wine today! Alongside the body of Grarnihorn was an empty wine decanter. There must be more wine there, in the cellars. It may still be drinkable, and it’ll all be theirs. Excuse me, everyone, I have to go back to the tower now. Polly, come with me, please. I need you to help carry stuff. Aim at the top of the tower there, and jump, now!”
They were gone before anyone could stop them. Vince looked at Jenny. Betsy looked at Horace.
“Ah hope the elves take time to debate this,” cautioned Horace. “It’s gonna be hard to explain Ben’s absence again.”
***
Ben and Polly landed on the same paved tower platform he had seen the night before. He led the way down the stairs, showing her the rooms that opened out at the upper levels. He led her first to the library, to show his great prize. His, if he could get the elves to overcome their objections to anyone being here.
Then he led her to the great hall, where Grarnihorn still sat in silence, staring blankly ahead at the door.
“I found this goblet and decanter here on this table at Grarnihorn’s side. We can give these to Rurrpiturrier as a peace offerin’. If there’s a decanter, there must be more wine somewhere. I want to find his wine cellar. We can fill this decanter with wine to bring back with us. He objected to our Uslaran wine as a bribe, but he may change his mind for this. I only hope it’s still drinkable.”
“That’s such a beautiful goblet,” admired Polly, “and the decanter is lovely, too. Are you sure you don’t want to keep them? A memento of this adventure?”
“I will have his library to remember this adventure. Rurrpiturrier may enjoy not only the wine, but the decanter and goblet. I won’t be cheap in bribin’ him.”
They set off looking into every room of the castle. The tower had only the rooms they had already seen on their way down. The ground floor was larger, more full of corridors, some added on to the castle after the main parts had been finished. There were a great many public rooms, rooms meant for entertaining guests. There were other rooms, less elegant, where the work to support daily life was done, kitchen, pantries, rooms for tailors and cobblers, rooms with unknown purposes.
Finally, returning to the kitchen, they found a staircase, missed on their first visit, going down beneath ground level. They had been using their finger lights since entering the tower. Parts of the ground floor had been moderately well lit by windows, but this staircase was very dark. At the bottom was the wine cellar.
Row upon row of large casks, barrels, hogsheads. Dozens of containers of a variety of sizes, with different labels indicating their contents. A small keg sat on a table near the stairs. A tap was sticking out from its bottom, hanging over the edge of the table.
Ben looked at the tap, checking to see how tightly it fitted into the keg. Hesitantly, he held the goblet under the tap and turned the handle. It was stiff, moving very slowly. A small trickle began to pour out into the goblet. He filled it half full, then shut off the tap. He smelled the wine, then held it out to Polly to sniff.
Taking a deep breath, he sipped a little of the ancient wine. It’s good. It’s not vinegar. Yum, it’s very good in fact.
“Try some, Polly. Grarnihorn had good taste in wine.”
“Oh, my, this is wonderful. Three hundred years old and it tastes like a recent vintage. Wow!”
“Hold the decanter while I open the tap again. There, that should be enough of a sample. Let me rock this keg a little. Oh, about half full. And all these other casks, of all sizes. Amazin’. Let’ go back.”
***
“Where have you been?” asked Brarrsarrl, indignantly. “Rurrpiturrier sent me to get you. He wants to talk to you, and you’ve gone off again. He was almost ready to make some concessions to you, and you will make him angry again. I can’t help you if you won’t help yourself.”
“I went to bring him a peace offerin’. There’s a vast wine cellar, full of barrels of wine, in the castle. I have here a decanter of that wine, and Grarnihorn’s own personal goblet. A gift for Rurrpiturrier. Lead us to him, so we may give these to him.”
A mile away through the woods Ben and his friends came upon a large gathering of elves, hundreds of them, standing in the open, or sitting on the ground or on branches in the trees. Rurrpiturrier was standing in the center of the gathering, looking impatient.
“What took you so long to bring them here? It’s not that long a walk back to our camp. I expected you to be prompt in your duty.”
“He had gone to the castle, again, Rurrpiturrier,” said Brarrsarrl. “He returned shortly after I got to the camp. He will make his own excuses.”
“I am deeply sorry for disobeyin’ you once again, Rurrpiturrier,” apologized Ben. “I went only to bring you this peace offerin’. In the castle is the dead body of a long-dead wizard name Grarnihorn. Elves have seen his body sittin’ in a big chair, and have imagined he was hauntin’ the castle. He looks dead and alive because his magic preserved everythin’ in the castle from decay, even his body. But he is truly dead, and I can move him to his burial place.
“Beside him, on a small table, was this decanter and goblet. He had a last drink of wine before he died. I returned to the castle to find his wine cellar. Polly and I found it. It is full of casks of wine, of all sizes and types of wine. This is a sample of that wine. We both tasted it to make sure it was worth givin’ to you, and safe. Please take this from me, from all of us, as a peace offerin’.”
“No. Such offerings are too late now. I was almost ready to forgive you, and yet here you are deliberately disobeying me again. Such persistent offenses must be punished. Elves can be very tolerant of outsiders, but we can also be very strict in punishing those who break our laws. I spared you this morning for going to the castle last night. I forgave that offense. But you’ve broken our laws again, flagrantly. I must punish you, Ben, with death for your repeated violations of our laws and customs.”
“No, please, Rurrpiturrier, spare Ben,” pleaded Horace. “He came here because of me, and what Ah had seen and told him about. If anyone should be punished, it should be me, for telling him of this castle, for leading him here.”
“Horace, what about our children, your children?” asked Betsy, in shock. “What about me?”
“Ben will take care of all of you. Ah know him and can trust him to do that. Ah told him once that Ah was the member of the band that had no great claim to fame. Jenny and her sword, you and your bow, Ben and Polly and their magic. Ah’m just the big guy who protects him. That’s what Ah’m trying to do now, protect Ben. Vince understands, don’t you? How can Ah call myself Ben’s protector if Ah let him die?”
“You would sacrifice yourself to save your friend?” asked Rurrpiturrier, puzzled. “Is he that important to you? Is he that special? We have an elf legend of Horrfurrtanurr, who defended our forests against a fire demon, dying to save his tribe. He is our model for bravery, courage, greatness of spirit. I would never have thought a human could match him. I have never met a human so generous. Have I been wrong?”
He turned to the assembled elves and made a long speech in Elvish. At the end they roared out their approval of whatever he had said.
“Such bravery, such unselfishness, must be rewarded,” Rurrpiturrier disclosed to Horace. “We all agree, as you have heard. Ben, I apologize to you for my actions. I give you full permission to visit the castle and do what you wish there.”
“There’s no need to apologize to me, Rurrpiturrier. You were enforcin’ your rule, as a king should. I thank you for changin’ your mind. I’m humbled by your change of heart. As a peace offerin’, to seal our renewed friendship, please take this wine from the castle.”
Ben filled the goblet from the decanter and handed it to Rurrpiturrier. The elf king hesitated, then took the goblet, sniffed it, and sipped a little drink. He paused, tasting the wine, sipped some more, then smiled.
“And you say there is more of this in the castle?”
***
There was no path through the woods, since going to the castle was forbidden, and dangerous. But the distance was not great, and Ben, his friends, and a vast throng of elves made the trip in just a few hours. The elves held themselves back when they reached the castle, not entirely reassured by Ben’s promise of safety.
There was a ten foot high wall around the castle, enclosing a number of buildings, stables, living quarters for servants, storerooms. And a mausoleum, set well apart from the other buildings and the castle. Grarnihorn’s name was carved in the stone lintel over the open door. An empty stone shelf was ready to receive the body of the dead wizard.
Ben led his friends into the castle. The door opened easily, and they gazed at Grarnihorn’s dead body, staring blankly at them from his throne. Rurrpiturrier, Brarrsarrl, and a very few other elves came up behind to gaze in awe at the corpse and what Ben was doing.
“We could all pick up the throne and move it to the mausoleum,” decided Ben. “But it might be heavy or awkward to carry. I don’t want to drop Grarnihorn. That would be rude to my benefactor. Polly and I can float him there, with the throne. I think that will be easier than a magical jump. Ready, Polly?”
The throne lifted slowly above the floor of the hall. Ben directed it toward the open door and into the courtyard beyond. He and Polly maneuvered it to the mausoleum and inside, where they set it down. Ben now took the small parchment from Grarnihorn’s hand and read it.
“I should’ve read this first, inside,” Ben corrected himself. “This is the technique to remove the preservation feat from his body. It can’t be done inside the buildin’, or the preservation feat will be gone from the whole structure. Humoparmia warned me about that, and I forgot. Right now everythin’ is more than three centuries old, but appears to be new. With the preservation feat dispelled, things will begin to age at a normal pace. In a year they will appear to be a year old.
“But this instruction says that the feat that preserves his body must be dispelled somewhere entirely outside the castle grounds, or it’ll affect the total preservation feat. So, we’ll have to remove this feat beyond the walls. Polly, let’s float it again, this time through the gateway.”
The elves gave ground in all directions as the throne floated out of the mausoleum and toward the gate. Brarrsarrl was trying to reassure them with a description of what Ben was doing. They understood, but didn’t want to be too near the dead wizard anyway.
Fifty feet from the gate, Ben stopped and lowered the throne to the ground. He read the parchment again and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and concentrated. I’ve never done anythin’ like this preservation feat, but the method of dispellin’ it is similar to others that I’ve used to end magic. A few odd twists, due to the nature of the original feat. This should do it.
Ben opened his eyes and looked at the body of Grarnihorn. The elves murmured in surprise as the green glow disappeared and the white-haired head drooped to the body’s chest. Ben looked at Polly, smiled, and indicated they should float the throne again.
Back in the mausoleum, Vince and Horace helped Ben lift Grarnihorn’s body from the throne and lay it on the slab that awaited him. Vince said the prayers the priests of Death had taught him long ago. They were done.
“That’s a very nice ring on his hand,” noticed Vince. “Aren’t you going to take it? It might have some magical powers.”
“You told me long ago that we don’t rob graves. I totally agree with that. He’s given me his library, should I steal his ring as well? Besides, magic doesn’t depend on things like rings, wands, or any other sort of gimmick. If it did, I couldn’t have healed your arm. Or Jenny. Let’s now lock up this mausoleum and leave him to his long-delayed rest.”
“What about his throne? Shouldn’t you take that at least?”
“It’s his throne. He was a greater wizard than I am. I would not presume to take his place on that seat. It’s going to be gettin’ dark soon. I’d like to give Rurrpiturrier and any other elves who want to brave the ‘haunted’ castle a tour before night falls.”
Ben led Rurrpiturrier and a couple dozen brave elves into the castle, showing them the great hall. He took them to the library, pointing out the books, statue, altar, and the door he wanted to take away. He went across the corridor to the dining room, crossed to the far side, and opened a door to the kitchen. He lit his fingers, to gasps from the elves, and led them down the stairs to the wine cellar.
They were amazed at the size of the room, and the number of barrels of all sorts inside it. They walked around looking at the barrels, and Ben read the labels on them to tell them what sort of wines were inside. Some of the types of wine were unknown to Ben.
“This is all ours, now, Ben?” asked Rurrpiturrier.
“Yes, everythin’ in the castle, except for what I showed you in the library. And see these things on the walls. They are called cressets, humans put oil in them and light the oil. The cresset then provides a bright light in a dark room. Ah, there is some oil in this one. Watch as I light it. See how much light it gives. However, you don’t want a flame. So I will create magic lights for you that will be safe. I’ll extinguish this flame and give you an illusion of a flame.”
A large flame appeared in the cresset, looking just as real as the first flame, and providing just as much light. Ben put his hand into the illusion to show that the flame wasn’t real. Rurrpiturrier hesitantly did the same and was amazed to feel nothing. Ben set more illusory flames in the other cressets.
“This is something I never thought of before,” admitted Ben. “But I already knew all the feats to do this. An illusion is just like the real thing. Magic can last indefinitely. So an illusory flame will shine a light permanently, without risk of fire. I think Humoparmia just jogged my mind to make me think of this. Thank you, dear Goddess, if You did.”
***
A few weeks later Ben was supervising the unloading of the last books from the wagons sent to pick up his treasures. The altar sat in one end of his schoolroom, with the statue of Humoparmia behind it. The door with Her carved likeness stood against the wall, waiting for a new doorway to be cut. The books were being stacked in neat piles. Tidy, but not very useful for studying them.
“Betsy, how are my finances lately?” he asked. “The mansion we thought was so huge is no longer big enough for everythin’ I need to do. I want to build a proper Temple to Humoparmia. There’s open ground on the other side of the road between the bridges. Remy, the scholar in Olpe, told me that he didn’t think wizards had anythin’ but shrines to Humoparmia in their homes. Shrines and schools all in one. But he didn’t know for certain, and there’s no reason I can’t build a real Temple to Humoparmia. She’s blessed me beyond my wildest dreams. I need to do somethin’ for Her.
“I need a larger place to store the library of Grarnihorn properly. I need a good place for the statue and altar of Humoparmia. I need more room to teach my students. More are comin’, and even more will come in the future. I need to have a place for them to stay when they’re here. The inns are happy for their business, but it would be nicer to have them livin’ in the school. We’re runnin’ out of space in the mansion.”
“Are you planning to sell copies of all of these new volumes, Ben?” asked Betsy. “If so, don’t worry about the cost of building a Temple. Just worry about how splendid you want it to be. You brought forty new volumes back from that castle. How long will it take to translate all of them? Years?”
“No, they’re already written in Humanish. A little bit old-fashioned, but readable as they stand.”
“Well, even one buyer for a complete set will pay for anything you want to build. And, going by how many sets of the earlier books you sold, you’ll probably have a backlog of buyers waiting for their sets.”
“I’m probably not gonna sell copies of all forty volumes. Some of the feats in the first volume I looked at are in the standard grimoire. There are also several passages in some of the books dealin’ with how to strengthen one’s mind to work magic, some similar to parts of the Treatise. I want to do some editin’, puttin’ all the mental exercises into one or two volumes, dependin’ on how extensive they are.
“There are also some feats that I don’t want to make available to everyone. Feats for killing people with magic, for instance. I’ve already cut a few of those from the grimoires I’ve sold. There are more in these volumes. It’s not a big section, and people who study magic will figure most of them out on their own, but I don’t want to give them any ideas. I think magic should be used for good.
“I want to get some more scribes to work on these right away. I’ll send messages to all those who have already bought grimoires from me, tellin’ them about the new volumes that are available. After three hundred years, magic is goin’ to blossom and spread over Orilon again. Grarnihorn would be pleased, he always wanted to teach everyone. Humoparmia will be pleased to be widely worshiped again. And I’ll be pleased just to help make this happen.”