the table, with his lady wife sitting at the first seat on his right. Across from her Lord and Lady Thornbear were placed and I wound up seated next to her with Marcus to my left. The duke’s other children, Ariadne and Roland sat across from me and Father Tonnsdale, the castle chaplain sat at the foot of the table. This being the first time I had ever sat at the high table, I felt distinctly conspicuous.
The dinner conversation was quiet and revolved entirely around the arrival of their guests the next day. Thankfully no one expected me to give an opinion as I was quite out of my depth. I did keep my ears open and learned a bit however. It seemed the events of the coming week were primarily being staged in order to familiarize Marcus, and to a lesser degree his siblings with other notables around their age. Given that the estates of the landed nobility were separated by great distances each nobleman would host events such as this to allow the young to socialize with their peers. Hopefully this would help them form important friendships that would serve them in the politics of later life, not to mention the possibility of finding a marriage partner. None of this was stated directly of course, but I’m a quick learner and I managed to pick up on the undercurrents.
Things were going well, the soup course was done and I was mostly finished with the second course, a lovely fish and parsnips dish, when Father Tonnsdale leaned forward. He was pontificating on the lack of merit to be found in some of the heathen religions many noble houses still held to, when his silver star slipped out of his robes and came into view. Unlike the last time I had seen it, now it was glowing with a soft gold radiance. Surprised I choked and then coughed, getting some of the parsnips into my nose. They were seasoned with a bit of horseradish, so the resulting burn made my eyes water and I fought to keep from spitting out my food.
Marc thumped me on the back while I regained my composure. Father Tonnsdale addressed me, “Are you all right Master Eldridge?”
“Yes Father, I’m sorry, your necklace caught me off guard. I never noticed it glowing like that before.” As soon as the words left my mouth I knew I had said too much.
“How unusual! I have heard that certain individuals can see the light granted by our Lady, but it is a rare gift. Do you by chance have the sight Master Eldridge?” He was staring at me intently.
Ariadne, Marc’s younger sister spoke then, “Don’t be silly Father, we’ve known Mort for years and he’s never shown any sign of having the sight.” The duchess glared at her daughter for using my nickname at the table.
Marc interrupted, “Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you about it Father Tonnsdale, this past week Mordecai has begun seeing things, like the castle wards.” Nice, he’d managed to tell everyone at the high table. At least he hadn’t mentioned the incident with the horse, but then I rather doubted he’d want his father knowing he had nearly lost his prize brood mare.
“How old are you Mordecai?” the priest asked me.
“Sixteen sir, I turn seventeen later this month.” I answered.
“Peculiar, in most cases the sight manifests itself around age twelve or thirteen at the latest, during the tempestuous period around puberty. It’s fairly rare in itself but of the few dozen cases I’ve heard of none were later than that.”
“I’m sure it’s just a temporary phase Father.” I was beginning to wish I could make myself invisible.
“I doubt that. You might consider a career in the Church. A gift such as yours is highly prized and its use in the service of our Lady is helpful to avoid accusations of witchcraft and sorcery later on.”
The duchess rescued me then, “Let the lad enjoy his dinner Father. You’re frightening him with talk of witchcraft. It is hardly a fit topic for the dinner table.” Lord Thornbear grunted in agreement with her and the dinner conversation gradually turned away from me and onto more comfortable venues.
Things went smoothly after that, dessert was a lemon syllabub, a sweet cream concoction I had never heard of before but of which I heartily approved. When they began to serve the after dinner drinks Marc signaled me quietly that it was time to leave so we made our excuses and rose from the table.
“Mordecai,” the Duke stopped me, “please call on me in the morning. I’d like to discuss some things with you before the guests arrive tomorrow.”
“Of course your grace,” I bowed and kept my features neutral. I managed to get the rest of the way from the great hall without having a heart attack.
“Don’t fret about it Mort, he just wants to make sure everything is clear concerning your identity this week,” my friend reassured me.
“Speak for yourself,” I replied, “he’s not my father, to me he’s the grand and powerful Duke of Lancaster.' We made our way to the library.
Chapter 3
Of particular importance to those who work with aythar, is a full understanding of its interactions with human beings. Accordingly several characteristics have been described and named to understand this interaction. The first and most important characteristic is ‘capacitance’, which refers to the amount of aythar present or stored within a given person. The amount is not fixed and varies from moment to moment but never exceeds a certain limit. That limit varies greatly from person to person, but in most humans is quite small. Let me add here that all ‘living’ beings contain some amount of aythar, or else they would be dead, and even corpses contain some amount, although much smaller by many orders of magnitude.
I had been there before, at first when Marc undertook to improve my education. My parents had taught me to read at a young age but the finer arts of geometry and grammar were beyond them. I think he dragged me along at first to provide a distraction from the work his tutor had set for him, but over time it became clear I had a real knack for language and mathematics. Later the Duchess encouraged Marc to invite me since his progress greatly improved when I was involved. As a result I was probably the best educated peasant ever to emerge from Lancaster.
Still the Duke’s library was one of the best in the kingdom, and neither of us really knew the extent and breadth of the volumes it contained. Being young we just started searching titles and hoping to find something relevant. Marc started thumbing through histories hoping to find some mention of past wizards while I wound up getting bogged down in an herbal compendium. I always had a weakness for plants. Eventually I broke away from that and began searching again when Marc called me back.
“Hey Mort I found something!” It turned out to be a history of the university at Albamarl, which was the capital of Lothion. “According to this, the university used to have a college of magic,” he said.
“Is it still there?” I asked.
“No apparently there was a plague and rumors got around that the wizards had something to do with it, the college was destroyed by an angry mob. Looks like most of the faculty were burned at the stake.”
“Why do I want to be a wizard again?”
“Because it’s terribly impressive! There are very few left now, and otherwise how will I ever find a magical counselor when I become duke?” He gave me one of his famously charming grins.
“Your father doesn’t have a ‘magical' counselor” I replied.
“Only because there are none to be found anymore. My grandfather had one though. Oh look here! You aren’t a wizard after all!” That got my attention. “According to this you’re a mage.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Anyone with a moderate amount of latent ability is a mage, a wizard is a mage who’s been educated and learned to harness his powers properly.”
I laughed, “So I’m ignorant! We knew that already.” We skimmed through the rest of the book but as to the fate of the wizards that survived the burning of the college there was nothing to be found.
“Let’s keep looking, I know Vestrius kept some books here somewhere,” Marc said.
“Vestrius?” I asked.
“Grandfather’s pet wizard,” Marc answered.
I made a slow tour of the shelves when I noticed something odd, back near the corner, beside one of the
