Tak

The War Wizard - Part 3

     "Tak had a couple of years grace after Molos Gomm's death," Thomas said when they were back in their own dwelling tree.

     He glanced out through the window. It was late at night and he would really rather have been in bed, but Lirenna was still wide awake and too hooked on the story to wait until the next day. Thomas sighed. Oh well, tomorrow looked like being a quiet day. It wouldn't matter if he was tired.

     "Perhaps Khalkedon knew he'd need time to settle himself into his new life and new responsibilities," he continued, "or perhaps he just didn't have any need for him in that time. Whatever the reason, Tak was left in peace to learn and study. He would have liked to spend all his time working on his animal experiments, and he did indeed spend a great deal of time in the laboratories under the south tower, but he had enough good sense to know that he'd need to be proficient in war spells as well. It would only be a matter of time before he was summoned to fight beside his master, after all, and he didn't want to be killed by the greenest apprentice who'd spent all his time learning how to kill.

     "Poring through Molos Gomm's spellbooks, therefore, he succeeded in adding several of them to his own repertoire, and although most of them were pretty mild and unexceptional he managed to master a couple of really powerful incantations. One of them was Fireball, a spell that's changed little in the thousands of years since then. When the day finally came, therefore, he was alarmed but not dismayed. He believed himself to be well prepared for whatever the rak King threw him into..."

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     Tak was in the library when the message came.

     He had an open book in his lap, the autobiography of a local warlord who'd dominated the area three hundred years before. Tak was lost in the fascinating story of his life and exploits, to the extent that the Farspoken message that suddenly burst into his head made him jump in alarm, dropping the leatherbound tome into the carpeted floor.

     "Tak Eweela," the voice commanded. "Tak Eweela. Do you hear me?"

     "Y-yes," stammered Tak, trembling all over. "I'm here. Gal-Gowan? Is that you?"

     "Of course it is," snapped the red wizard angrily. "Do you think our master would lower himself to contacting you himself? We are at war and your participation is required. I'll be arriving to collect you the day after tomorrow. Be ready for me."

     The link was broken and Tak could only sit there in apprehensive astonishment, hardly able to believe that it was finally happening. War. He was going to have to fight. He was going to have to kill people. Could he do that? He'd better be able to, he thought, because if he refused he had no doubt that Khalkedon would kill him. A wizard who wouldn't fight was no use to him.

     He placed the book carefully on a nearby table and hurried off to find Trobo, finding him serenely polishing silver in the main dining hall. The houseman had recently returned to the castle following a two week trip to a town a hundred miles away to find a new cook and caretaker to replace the previous couple who'd retired to live with their daughter the year before. It was the longest he’d ever been away from the castle, the great distance being necessary to find people who’d never heard of Castle Nagra and who, therefore, wouldn’t be put off by its evil reputation.

     The new retainers had been terrified to learn that they would be working for a wizard, and it had taken a lot of smooth talking, and a lot of gold, to persuade them to stay. Now that they were here, though, Tak had hopes of making friends with them. Something he’d never managed to do with the previous cook and caretaker.

     "Trobo," he said as the houseman looked up, pausing in his work. "Gal-Gowan will be arriving the day after tomorrow. Please have the guest bedroom prepared and, er, do whatever else you do whenever he comes."