More glass clattered as they staggered together, stumbling against the gear scattered about the floor. Alodar banged his shins against a heavy iron bar across their path and fell to his knees. He rose and limped forward, free hand in front reaching for a familiar object. He took three more steps and then stopped, feeling the blank wall that separated the workroom from the front of the shop. He reached back, placed Saxton's hand on his shoulder, and began inching to the doorway on the right. His lips started to quiver behind his guarding hand and be fought to hold back the growing demand for air.
Each cautious blind step seemed to be his last, but he pushed on for another until be felt the jamb of the door. He could hold breath no longer and bolted into the front room, ricocheting into the walkway beside the counter. Saxton scurried behind, and together they crashed forward, ripping the latch from its guide, and out into the street,
Alodar stumbled for the last time and sprawled on the sidewalk planking. He took a tentative breath; although it was tainted with the smell from the workroom, it filled his lungs with air. He rolled over and looked at the sky. The dull glow was still there, but fainter now, and the dim outline of the moon began to form beside it. He turned to his side and deduced that the mass beside him must be Saxton, painting rapidly, but alive as well.
'Cut short your stay at Cedric's tomorrow,' the alchemist rasped. 'We will journey to the apothecary and barter for what we need. So Basil has all the supply of peat tar. It is well worth whatever price.'
Alodar ducked behind his shield and the padded club whizzed over his head. Unarmed grappling, staves, broadsword and shield, and now the mace, he thought. The months of monotonous execution of the first steps of the formula had given him time to observe Cedric well. Well enough that Alodar was beginning to be a true match for Dartilon and the others like him.
His opponent staggered as he halted the rush of his missed blow, and Alodar seized the opportunity to strike. He thrust his shield diagonally across his body, blocking Dartilon's arm at the top of its backswing. Reaching out with his own mace, he swung it in a wide arc, catching the young lord squarely on the back of his unprotected head. Dartilon sagged to the ground, momentarily dazed by the blow.
'Enough,' he said weakly. 'I am tired from the festivities at my father's manor last night. Enough for today. When I am fully awake and fresh, we shall see who can better handle the club.'
Alodar said nothing as Dartilon rose and retired to the dressing quarters. His left arm ached from holding the heavy shield through three successive combats, but he did not mind the discomfort,
'Well enough, Alodar,' Cedric's voice rasped behind him. 'Rest a bit in the shade of the courtyard wall. You will find progress faster if you do not try to master it all in a single day.'
'I think I can make it worthwhile for another match,' Alodar said as he turned and saw Cedric heading for the shadow. 'And I do not rest easy so long as there is more to learn.'
Cedric sat down on a small bench pushed against the vine-covered wall. 'And when you have learned all that I have to teach you, what then do you expect?'
'As I have said, warmaster,' Alodar replied, 'the respect which is my due.'
Cedric pulled his lips into a tight line and slowly shook his head. 'Come,' he said, 'there is no one else to instruct for the next hour. But there is more that I can teach you than the crash of the mace.'
Alodar dropped the shield and joined Cedric on the bench. He looked the older man in the face and raised an eyebrow expectantly.
'I was lowly born,' Cedric said, 'and sought the glory of the sagas with my sword. Long hours and numbing pain I endured perfecting my craft. Fatigue and aching soreness were my only companions. I have seen few in my lifetime whose dedication matched that of my youth.'
Cedric stopped and his lips curved into a slight smile as he looked at Alodar setting beside him. 'But no matter for dedication and training,' he said at last. 'The border wars of Vendora's father provided many opportunities for me to show my mettle, and by luck, skill, and reckless abandon I made my name known throughout Procolon and the neighboring kingdoms. From warrior, sergeant, captain, to commander I increased my glory fighting thirty years for the king, and when I thought I had enough to compel the respect from any man, be he lord or no, I came finally to the royal courts of Ambrosia.'
Cedric threw back his head and closed his eyes. 'I remember it well,' he said. 'A courteous audience, a gold medallion, a flush of balls and parties, and then, when the novelty of my presence faded, the postern gate. Retired with honor so the proclamation said, but not so much that I could pound a lord on the back or join him in a cup of wine. The craftsmen of the street might sing my praises, but so long as I was not a part of the faction with the ear of the king, then it did not matter.
'I became a bodyguard of a minor noble and observed from his retinue the workings of the court. I saw the whispered conversations, the hints of special knowledge, the alliances, the coercions, the allegiances that shifted with each interpretation of the actions of the king. It took me some while to understand the rules of the games at court, and once I learned I did not care to play. Better they pay me soft gold for their son's instruction than I pay them for an occasional bow or polite greeting.
'You speak of respect, and I tell you it is not for deeds but for influence. Have the favor of the ruler or the conviction of others that you do, and respect will follow. And no feat of arms, regardless how closely it resembles a tale from the sagas, will have the value of a simple bribe to an appointment herald of some high placed noble.'
'It is not only by arms that I plan my assault,' Alodar said. 'I intend to use the result of Saxton's alchemy as well.'
Cedric pushed Alodar's words aside with a wave of his arm. 'How can that serve any better?' he said. 'Practice at arms at least returns with increased skill the investment of time you give to it. Random dabbling on the Street might yield nothing at all.'
'Of the five arts, alchemy is indeed unique in its uncertainty,' Alodar admitted. 'Using exactly the same ingredients in the same formulas does not necessarily produce identical results. The next to final step for nerve elixir, for example, produces ball lightning instead four times out often.'
'Unpredictable outcomes that make useless such experimentation,' Cedric rasped.
'No, they are indeed related,' Alodar replied. 'With nerve elixir, we stabilize our erratic impulses to fly and jerk uncontrollably in just the same way the crackling forces of the ball lightning are aligned and held in check. And although the chance outcome inhibits methodical investigation, the fundamental doctrine of alchemy does give some indication on how to proceed.'
'And what is that?' Cedric asked.
'The doctrine of signatures,' Alodar said, warming to the task of displaying his new-found knowledge. 'Or as it is simply stated: 'the attributes without mirror the powers within.' Beeswax is an obvious choice for use in a formula that transmutes lead to gold. Its ability to polish helps to create the metallic sheen of the final product. Vulture feathers play a role in the production of rugs of levitation and so on.'
'If it is so clear then,' Cedric persisted, 'why all of this talk of trade secrets, new formulas, and profit margins?'
'It is true that if cost and time were not factors, an alchemist could devise a formula to produce almost any product desired, a powder of immobilization, an amulet of unbounded luck, or an ointment of true invisibility. Indeed the alchemist's logo is a triangle impossibly balanced on a single point to show how the laws which govern thaumaturgy are easily transcended. To work his craft, he would consult his almanacs of the properties and brew together the right combination of powers to achieve the effect. But, alas, nature works in perverse ways. The more potent the product, the longer the progress must be, and the smaller is the chance of a successful outcome. The experimentation of alchemy is that of finding the shortcut, the formula with fewer steps, cheaper ingredients and a higher chance of producing the result. A grimoire with formulas of high yield is a treasure indeed.'
'Then perhaps I do waste my time toiling with sword and shield,' Cedric said. 'I would be better off on Honeysuckle Street tearing apart their shops and acquiring these formulas for my own use.'
'I think that a grimoire by itself would do you no great good, warmaster,' Alodar replied. 'Knowledge of three things is needed to activate a formula successfully, and the grimoire will contain only two: the ingredients, and how to prepare and mix them. It will even describe the complex string of symbols for each step of the formula to be copied fresh for the reaction actually to take place. But what is missing are the additional symbols which must be drawn to activate the ingredients to release their power into the brew. And the symbols of activation are closely guarded by the master alchemist. Though I work closely with Saxton on a product of mutual benefit, he reveals to me only a few of the signs which form the heritage of his craft.'
