Chapter Seventeen

 

“You brought about the return of magic to my realm.”

King Amorion’s eyes were not unkind as he regarded Telyn across the table. She sat between Gwidion and Mithrais at this informal council.

“Yes, my lord King.” She accepted the responsibility.

“But not alone.” Mithrais quickly shouldered some of the burden. “It was a decision made by the Tauron Order.”

“With my sanction.” Gwidion also defended their actions. “It was a matter of some urgency, my King. The Gwaith’orn informed us they were dying, and indeed, many of them did prior to the fulfillment of the covenant. Telyn’s arrival in the Wood was nothing short of an act of the Fates, for only she possessed the power to save them.”

“The Old Ones.” Keir’s smile held doubt. “You mean to tell us these talking trees really exist?”

“Indeed they do. It is a secret we have guarded jealously for centuries,” Gwidion affirmed. “They have always been our first line of defense, for they can tell us where and how many persons enter the Wood and sense their intent for good or ill. In addition to being an elite fighting force, the Tauron have been their protectors throughout recorded history. Until I swore my allegiance to King Amorion, no one outside the Wood knew the Gwaith’orn for what they truly are.”

“I confess I had my doubts.” Amorion leaned back in his chair. “I knew you believed what you were telling me. I had come to know you as an honest man—if perhaps fervently superstitious about the old stories regarding the covenant. If you remember, I questioned the inclusion of the covenant in our pledge of fealty.”

“I insisted it be included, even though I knew you didn’t believe it. How could you?” Gwidion spread his hands. “Only Wood-born Silde who are heartspeakers are raised with constant regard for the Old Ones. Our secret is guarded like a priceless jewel. Not even the bards believed it to be true. I never expected any of us would see this day. But here we are.”

“And it isn’t only to your realm magic returned, my lord King.” Mithrais took a deep breath. He placed his palms together, and then spread them in a smooth outward motion an inch above the surface of the table. A map of the isle, shining with the pale hue of moonlight, appeared in the wake of his hands. Mountains and valleys clearly marked in three dimensions were oriented to the proper compass points. A large area in the center of the isle pulsed like a star where the fount of magic resided in the heart of the Wood. Waves of golden light reached out to the shores on all sides, across the mountains of the southwest and the rolling plains to the east. “The isle is one land, even if the three realms divide it. Magic knows no king or governor. It is open to all with the ability to channel it.”

Emrys swore under his breath and stared at the glowing map. Telyn had not seen Mithrais use this particular magic before, but her wonder faded when she noted an area in the North that did not glow as brightly. A shadow seemed to hover over the area, negating the passage of the golden waves. The darkness...

No one else seemed to pay it heed. “Now that is a useful talent.” Keir’s attention was rapt upon the vision Mithrais created. “Is it simply a map?”

“Not exactly. It is an accurate representation of the isle—a focus point.” Mithrais’ brow furrowed as he tried to explain. “We can direct magic to an area remotely if need be. For instance, if the Magians who received the knowledge of air and water were to work with me, we could make it rain wherever we chose.”

“On my estates, perhaps?” Keir joked.

“We haven’t actually tried yet.” Mithrais grinned back. “We could at least make it rain in your general vicinity.”

“What about on an army?”

This statement from Emrys shocked them all. The King went very still, his chin in his hand. Mithrais dissolved the map with wave, his face tight. “Magic is a tool, not a weapon.”

“Can it make that determination?” Emrys inquired. “Does magic know what it’s being used for?”

Gwidion broke the silence that followed. “It is a valid point, and one Mithrais and I have discussed several times already. The intent with which magic is directed is up to the wielder, who uses it for good or ill. Magic itself has no color, if you like—black or white. It is simply a tool, as Mithrais has stated. The Magians have taken it upon themselves to prevent the misuse of magic, by educating those who discover they have the talent to use it. If necessary, they will combat it.”

“But who determines when it is being misused?” Emrys shrugged. “I’m playing devil’s advocate here, my lords, so please forgive me. If two armies face off in the field, they are evenly matched in weapons and fighting conditions. If one side is using magic to gain an advantage—say for the sake of argument, our side—then our enemy could say we are using it for ill, even while we could say we are using it for good. Who decides?”

“This is just one example of why it shouldn’t be used as a weapon,” Mithrais said. “The Gwaith’orn will be the first to tell you magic is dangerous. The consequence of each spell isn’t readily apparent. Such happened with my binding of Searlas—I meant to protect Telyn, but in binding Searlas, I left him unable to defend himself in any way. He was almost killed. Any spell cast in an offensive measure would undoubtedly take its toll on both sides.”

“Yes, but I repeat: who decides?” Emrys cocked his head. “You and the rest of the Tauron Magians are subjects of King Amorion. In a battle between the Sildan Kingdom and the South Kingdom, your counsel would not be considered impartial. Who decides? The Gwaith’orn?”

“We can’t avoid this topic, but for now, set it aside.” King Amorion folded his hands together upon the table. “I am also concerned about my new subjects, if subjects they are, because I am certain the Old Ones are ungovernable. What is it the Gwaith’orn want from us?”

“You could ask them yourself.” Heads swiveled in her direction as Telyn sat forward. “There are Gwaith’orn on the manor grounds, my lord King, although I can’t guarantee they will give you a straight answer.”

“I thought only heartspeakers could communicate with them.” Keir’s brow knit together.

“They are no longer trapped and unable to speak for themselves, my Prince. This is the primary reason we fulfilled the covenant.”

“I’ve already met one,” Emrys informed the King, whose eyebrows rose to his hairline. “It appeared to me in the forest on my return journey and spoke to me.”

“And Searlas encountered one in the garden the night he threatened me.” Telyn smiled thinly, remembering the secretary’s fright. “They don’t seem to be shy. I would be happy to introduce you.”

“Meet a fairytale face to face?” The King looked a bit shaken at the prospect. “Give me some time to think on this.”

“They appear to want nothing from us except continued protection,” Gwidion told the King. “They can’t leave their groves. Should one of them be cut down—something we sadly experienced just before you arrived—or be burned, they would perish. Should this knowledge become common, my lords, I fear in any conflict they would be endangered. I fervently hope no battles ever come to the Wood again, but I beg this information still remain a secret when you leave Cerisild.”

“I swore to protect them in our oath of fealty, and so I shall.” Amorion’s sharp eyes took in Keir and Emrys. “Unless I give you leave to speak of it, the secret of the Gwaith’orn will be kept to yourselves upon returning to Belthil.”

There were murmurs of assent from both men.

“The Magians will hold council at the guild house tomorrow night, my lords.” Mithrais spread his hands in invitation. “If any of you would like to attend, you would be welcome. Much of the business will be rather mundane. We are trying to come up with a solution to Tauron communication issues that arose when we freed the Gwaith’orn. It is one of those unforeseen consequences of magic. Some of the proceedings will be silent, as heartspeaking is the best way to convey details among us in a limited amount of time. But there are other things we will discuss which could be of importance. You will get an idea of how we plan to govern ourselves.”

“Keir and I have already arranged to meet with Gilmarion tomorrow night to discuss his stewardship of the trade town. Emrys, you shall attend and give me a full report.”