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Recapitulation: Young boy Hage and his master Glaucus visited the mage Glockard on their mission to find out why the grapes rotted at Glaucus' farm. The orphan Hage wants to find out who his mother is, although his hopes are crushed by the magician.
Please note - I've "borrowed" the intrigue from the game Cythera (about the bad wine), but the events and outcome of this story doesn't reveal the answer to the wine-mission in the game.
Regards, Heidel
A journey home
It was well beyond darkness when Glaucus and Glockard came back to the house. Hage had made an fire in the fire-place to drive out some of the evening's coldness from the room. He had crept up in the rocking-chair and swept his cloak around him. He'd been sitting there for a long time, looking into the flames.
Both of the men entered without a word. Glockard set about to prepare some food. He hung a cauldron filled with water over the fire. Going to and fro some cupboards, he put more and more stuff into the cauldron. Hage didn't find the strength to help him. Glockard didn't seem to need any help anyway.
When the water was boiling, Glockard put some cabbage and other vegetables into the cauldron and sat down on a stool. Glaucus sat on the bench by the table. Silence brewed in the room. The logs in the fireplace crackled, the occasional squirts of water from the caldron hissed when they fell into the fire.
They ate in silence too. The light from the fire shrank to a reddish glow when they pulled out their mattresses and went to bed.
Silence was even deeper in the morning. Breakfast was eaten without the three of them making eye-contact. After washing up the plates, Glockard disappeared through a door. Glaucus went outside to sit on a bench by the sunlit wall. Hage ventured around the house to see what it looked like. The house's round wall carried the strange, glittering dome. On the backside Hage found a small wooden house with a woven fence of young saplings. Behind it chickens picked on the ground. Glockard probably let the hens out every morning, but kept the young chickens behind bars for the whole day, afraid that they would get lost. The wall of the small wooden house was covered with holes for the carrier-pigeons.
He found the path to the waterfall and followed it out of curiosity. Sure enough, he soon heard the falling waters and came to an log overlooking the stream. It was inviting to sit there. The sound of the waterfall shut out every other noise. Hage threw pine cones over the cliff, into the whirling waters.
As the sun moved over the distant mountains, a rainbow sparkled over the waterfall.
Hage thought about everything that had happened the last months. His decision to hide in Glaucus' wagon, the bravery of the act surprised him now in retrospect. The travel to town, all the sights and sounds. The world was truly bigger than he'd ever imagined. His thoughts turned to Troskel, who treated him almost as if he was an grown-up.
The thought made him stand up, pulling the sling from his back-pocket. Loading it with a stone, he whirled it, took aim and released. The stone flew over the waterfall and hit a tree on the other side with a solid thump. Satisfied he sat down again.
And the sea. The short sight of the expanse of water had filled him with humbleness. How Troskel had laughed when he'd asked about the white blotches. "Jellyfishes," he corrected himself. There was so much to learn about the world. But he was all done with the world now. He looked forward to climb onboard the wagon and rock the whole way home to the farm again.
A smile broke his serene face when he thought about everything he could tell Fola and the other kids. About the ambush in the forest, and the cheapskate merchant Platte and everything about the town. Not to mention the story about Glaucus' past as a novice magician.
He didn't notice Glaucus until the man sat down on the log next to him. In silence, they sat and looked at the waterfall, the rainbow over the foaming stream and the mountains. Just as Hage was on the verge of saying something just to test if he still had a voice, Glaucus moved. He pulled out a small pouch that hung on a leather-string around his neck. Opening the pouch he shook out a few objects in his open hand. Most of them he put back in the pouch.
For a while he sat still, staring at the things he had in his hand. Then he reached out for Hage's hand and put the things there. Closing the boy's hand around the objects, the man rose and walked away without a word.
Curiously, Hage looked at the small things. A signet-ring and a small, white stone, perfectly rounded. He felt the stones' velvet-surface, put it to his lips to feel the smoothness. He examined the ring closely. It was big enough to even sit loosely on his thumb. The rectangular surface was embossed with an eight-pointed star. They had to be important, Hage felt. Otherwise Glaucus wouldn't carry them with him, in a pouch around his neck.
He wanted to run after Glaucus and ask what they were and why he got them, but something in the way the man had stood up and left made Hage restrain himself. So he sat by the waterfall and threw pine cones over the cliff until the sun began to settle, and his stomach rumbled. Then he walked back to the house.
It was close to darkness, before Glockard appeared again. He put some jars and bottles on the table, before setting about to prepare food. He dished out some bread and cheese on the table. A cauldron of boiling water became a kettle of tea. Motioning the others to join him at the table, the magician sat down.
The meal was begun in silence. Glockard seemed to be in a happy mood, his eyes glittering above the beard. After eating for a while, the magician broke the silence.
"So, you've both had time to reason with yourselves. That's good. But it's getting close to your trip back again. I'll be giving you a few parting gifts." He shared the bottles and jars between them.
"What's this?" Hage asked interested.
"Oh, a few odds and ends. This bottle contains ointments for your legs. It's very effective, if I might say it myself. And the jar, yes. That's to help you find strength when you need it the most."
Glaucus spoke up. "We'll leave in the morning. I can lean on my foot now without problem, thanks to your care. We have to get back to the farm and prepare for the next harvest."
"You've come to an decision, then?"
"Yes. Yes, I have. And I truly believe that I'm an better winemaker than I'd ever become as a magician. You were right, when you claimed that I missed those days. But I have to live here and now, not in an distant past."
A soft laughter rose from Glockard. "That's a clear and logical decision, but I think it would be good for you to have that jar within arm's length for a while."
Hage spoke up, unwarranted. "I'm going with Glaucus back to the farm. I want to go home. For good." Another soft laugh levitated from Glockard.
"Yes. I see. Well. I think you too should keep that jar close at hand."
The familiar silence blossomed again over the table and lasted until they went to bed. That night they slept in front of the fireplace again. Hage felt eager to get back to the farm and had difficulty getting to sleep.
Breakfast was a quick affair. Glaucus was eager to get going also. During their meal, Glockard explained how they would find their way back. "I've made carvings on the trees. You just follow them and you'll get to the inn.
They had packed and thanked the magician profoundly, mostly Glaucus did that and he did it with oboloi. Hage had shook the old man's hand and thanked him for the meals, the sleeping-place and the jars. It was half-hearted, but Glockard didn't seem to take offense.
As they walked across the opening in front of the house, Hage suddenly found an urgent question to ask. "Oh, Glockard, by the way..." he shouted to the mage.
"Yes, my young friend?"
"That roof of yours, what is it. Is it pure magic?"
Glockard turned around and looked up at the dome that glittered as ever before in the sunshine. "No Hage, I'm sorry but it's only shards of glass. It's a lot of shards tied to long stretches of threads. Nothing more."
"Oh, OK. Bye then, master Glockard."
Glockard stood still a while after the visitors had left. He could hear the faint sounds of their walk through the bushes. He slightly regretted that he had told Hage a deliberate lie during these days. It was a small lie, but never the less a lie. Turning his back against the forest he looked up at the dome again. The receptacle of power still was glittering in the sun. Glockard could feel the slight humming of the collected force. The vessel was almost full - he'd been lucky for the last months. There had been many cloud-free nights to collect the moonlight.
A combined smile and shrug passed, when he remembered that none of them had asked why he lived so far away from civilization. Platte the merchant had asked once, he'd told him another small lie. That his powers feed strange beasts outside his control. A concept that had a strange, but practical, side-effect of making Platte stay as short a time as possible. In reality, there were only ordinary animals around - the magical beasts were only creatures of Platte's imagination.
A sad shake of the head followed when he thought about the truth. If he'd ever make a mistake while he experimented, they would never find his body to bury as with master Spis. They wouldn't even find his house or even this valley again. It would all be gone in a flash.
Hage and Glaucus walked slowly at first, but picked up speed when they came to the forest at the other side of the valley. Before diving into the green darkness, they turned around and took a parting look at the shimmering dome. It didn't look so magic, now when they knew that it was only shards of glass.
Following Glockard's marks revealed a much easier way than the one Platte had taken. When night came, they made a fire and slept on the ground. The very next morning Glockard and Hage spread some ointment on their legs, and sure enough, they weren't troubled by pains.
It was no more than midday when they could step out of the woods. The stretch of grassy hills spread out in front of them. Walking out, they hoped to see some signs of where to go. Before evening they saw what looked like a pillar of smoke. In the morning they would set course for that.
They arrived at the inn in the afternoon. Eating some food in the low-ceiling dinner-room, they stretched their legs and relaxed. The inn-keeper fussed around them and made sure they had everything they needed. He even asked forgiveness for thinking that they were friends of Platte. "Now I know that you're friends of Glockard." The mage had probably sent an pigeon to the inn-keeper.
The horses had been well treated. They puffed gently at Hage when he prepared them for the journey back home the next day. Glaucus left the two good barrels of wine at the inn as promised. The barrel of foul wine he emptied in a ditch outside the stables. Even the pigs had shed the brew.
Without cargo the horses walked faster and they could pass through the city where Platte lived without stopping.
A visit to an old house
Hage had thought that they would take the same way back, but instead of turning towards the bandits' forest, Glaucus kept to the broad, well-used path. They hadn't exchanged many words on the journey so far. Hage felt tongue-tied. Glaucus hardly seemed notice the rest of the world, being wrapped in his own thoughts.
The day was closing to evening. Their cheeks were bitten by a cold wind. The warmth of autumn was about to give way to the winter's coldness. Hage thought about the last months, how they set out in early autumn. Both with different goals. Himself eager to find out about his mother. Glaucus to find out what had ruined his wine. Now they hurried to return to the farm before frost and snow made the journey difficult. His desire to find his mother had turned almost as cold as the wind.
To their right, the forest marched on along the horizon, the colors shifting from green to yellow and red. On the other side a grassy landscape stretched out. The flowers had waned, the grass laying slick along the ground, combed like blonde hair.
After quite a few hours on the dusty road, it was a relief when Glaucus left the broad way and turned left toward a nearby copse of trees. The road was almost overgrown with grass, but it seemed to be traversed by people sometimes.
They pulled in at a ruin. It was evidently an old house, but not ancient. Only a few of the walls still remained standing. Hage was left with the horses, when Glaucus ventured into the ruins. When he'd tied the horses and had made sure that they weren't hungry or thirsty, Hage too explored the place. He walked around and looked at everything.
Some distance from the ruins, he saw Glaucus at the top of a small hill. The trees that surrounded the house, seemed to take a step back from the hill. As if the trees were afraid of something there.
Hage walked towards the hill. Climbing up he realized that the top was hollow. There had been a building there too. The walls of the hole were covered with large stones, ingeniously stacked on top of each other. The bottom was littered with old leaves and fallen roof-beams.
Glaucus stood looking down into the room. He was lost in thought. Hage could see it in his whole body. The tilted head, the drooping shoulders and the half-closed eyes. Noticing that Hage came, Glaucus began talking. "This is where the laboratory was. Over there we had our sleeping-quarters, and that part of the house was kitchen." He pointed out the places for Hage.
"But this was the heart of it all. This is where all the real work was done. Master Spis' laboratory. It was always exciting to have the privilege of entering this place bestowed on us. One always walked away with more knowledge than when one entered."
Lost in memories he stood still. "Strange. I always thought it was bigger than this. Well. It was nice to see it again, despite everything that I was responsible for here. I never thought I'd ever travel in these parts again."
He turned to leave. Hage took a last look down the room that meant so much to Glaucus. Most of the stones were deeply pockmarked in a strange way. "Hey, master. What are those marks on the wall?" Without turning, Glaucus answered him. "Those are the marks of master Spis' last experiment." And he walked away.
Hage found him again an hour later in the remains of an herb-garden. Glaucus had raided the plants. He'd dug out a lot of plants, and wrapped them in cloth. Most of the ground was overgrown by weeds. To Hage's eyes, it all looked like weeds, but Glaucus said the names of the herbs out loud when he dug them out. Hage carried the bunches to the wagon. They left at dusk.
Glaucus breaks a vow
That evening Glaucus was in a good mood. He joked with the maid and Hage at the inn. He'd even whistled while watering the herb-bunches on the wagon-floor before eating dinner. Hage figured that he now could ask about the ring and stone.
Before he'd gathered the courage, Glaucus had addressed him. "Hage. I will now tell you what I know about your mother. I will do it in spite of her distinct wishes that you'd never know the truth about her or her reasons for leaving you at my farm. I'll tell you at once: She left you behind with a heavy heart and in tears, but she did it to protect you against dangers that otherwise could have harmed you.
"I break my promise to her for one reason only. The last weeks I've thought about my own youth. Although I was ten years older than you when I left my master, I now understand what's it like to yearn for knowledge. If I'd known then, what I know now... Well, perhaps my life would had been different.
"So I want to give you knowledge. But this knowledge you must be careful with."
Glaucus sipped from his jug. Hage tried to fight down an impulse to motion him on.
"Your mother came to me in disguise. To her father, she'd said that she was on a pilgrimage to the sanctuaries of the south. The people of the farm came to know her by the name of Smora. She had an easy time making friends with people, but they never knew her true name or her true reasons for coming to the farm." Glaucus paused and looked at Hage. "Before I continue there's one thing I need to ask you."
Hage, who'd hung on to every word, was taken a little aback by the interruption. "Yes, master Glaucus?"
"What do you want to do when you know who she is?"
"Want to do? I want to meet her of course! I have to ask her why she left me alone at the farm. Why she didn't bring me with her." His voice rose with every word, he almost screamed the last sentence.
"I see. Yes, perhaps that would be a natural reaction. What if I say that you must not never try to seek her out. Or even claim to be her son, hmm?"
Hage felt it like he fell into well of darkness. Tears sprouted and made his view dim. She hated him. That was what Glaucus tried to say. She didn't like him, she had found him ugly and terrible as child and that's why she'd left him at the farm. From the other side of darkness, Glaucus voice reached him again.
"She is Uranna, daughter of Alaric, the Land King. You are heir to the throne."
The jarring sensation made Hage silent. The well of darkness seemed even deeper. He couldn't really fathom what Glaucus just told him. He felt the older man's eyes on him. No words would form in his mouth. Only perplexed sobbing was heard from Hage.
Glaucus kept on talking. "A thing I've wondered for some time is: How come you've never asked about your father?"
The dark well grew to a river that threathened to drown Hage in a stream of new questions. His father? Pounding of blood filled Hage's ears, breathing was difficult.
"You've already met your father," Glaucus continued, seemingly unaware of Hage's condition.
The dark river was speckled with sparkling lights, swiming into each others and forming streets buzzing with unanswered questions going to and fro unknow places.
"Your father is Troskel, the thief-master." Blackness eclipsed Hage and he fell unconscious against the table.
(To be continued)
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[This message has been edited by Slayer (edited 05-28-2001).]
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