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    David McLeod
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Arthur in Eblis - 12. Chapter 12: Haley’s Story—The Lodge at Alborg

Chapter 12: Haley’s Story—The Lodge at Alborg

 

“How can you know that the Red-Robes won’t find us? Smell us out, or whatever it is they do?” Seth asked.

“The stones of the mill guard one end of our Lodge; the stones of the village guard the other. They are both so full of craft magic that the Red-Robes couldn’t see Merlin, himself, if he were here!” Tyler exclaimed.

“Lodge?” Seth asked.

“Um, the village,” Tyler said.

“But wouldn’t the Red Robes just take all the boys away from the village, until they could determine who’s a mage?” Seth asked.

“Most of the Red Robes aren’t that smart,” Tyler said. “A couple of them came with two maniples of soldiers, once, and did just that. They pulled seven boys out of line, and declared them to be mages. We killed them. Red-Robes and soldiers, too. Hauled their bodies to a ravine and dumped them.

“Someone came looking for them. Grandfather . . . well, he’s a sembler, but he’s a most excellent dissembler, too. Convinced them the first Red Robes had never been here, and that all the boys in the village were idiots.” Tyler laughed.

“You must stay through the winter. You would die in the mountains, otherwise,” Tyler added. “But, to stay in the village means that you will see every day our Craft and Guild Secrets and Mysteries. No one may see these unless they take an oath not to reveal what they’ve seen and learned.”

“I understand,” Seth said. “My father and uncle were millers, and I was to be apprenticed. I hadn’t taken the oath, but we’d talked a lot about it.”

“My father was a husbandryman, Troy said. “I was to follow him. He showed me a lot of stuff that I wasn’t supposed to talk about.”

Jason and Haley sat in uncomfortable silence. Finally, Jason spoke. “Haley and I were outcasts because of our magic,” he said. “We weren’t apprenticed to anybody, except his Gram. She taught us things before she and the whole village were killed.”

* * * * *

“You can’t feel it, yet, but a new tooth is on the way. You’re lucky that you didn’t lose more than one,” Tyler said. “Growing a new tooth isn’t a problem, but growing more than one, and getting them to line up properly, well, that’s hard.”

Tyler had spent hours with Troy, teaching his body how to make a new tooth, as he described it. “Usually, you have three sets of teeth: child, boy, and tween. Your tween teeth have to last through adulthood—if you get that far. As long as you take care of them, they’ll last for centuries. So, knowledge of how to replace teeth is scarce as hen’s teeth.” Tyler laughed at his own joke.

Seth groaned and punched Tyler gently on the arm. “That’s the worst one, yet,” he said.

* * * * *

Tyler gathered the four boys in their room.

“We will ask you,” Tyler said, “to swear an oath not to reveal anything you’ve seen since you came upon the mill, nor anything you will see before you leave this village, nor anything you may surmise based on what you see. That oath will be administered by my Grandfather, who is Lodge Master and Masterguildmaster. Your oath will be witnessed by all—well, most, anyway—of the men and tweens of the village. You will swear that oath in the Lodge—our meeting place. Its location is secret, and you must be blindfolded.” He held out four black hoods.

“Of course,” Jason said, looking at his companions. Haley nodded, and then Seth. Troy nodded weakly. When the hoods had been tied, the boys were led by two people, one on each side of them, through rooms, down steps and then down again, and through long hallways. The journey seemed to last a long time, and within minutes they were already hopelessly lost. They felt, however, that they must be deep underground.

The hoods blocked all sight and most sound. The boys could not hear the susurrus of breathing that came from the crowd that had gathered. They did hear the words of the oath, and trembled.

* * * * *

Of my own free will and accord, in the presence of this Lodge, I do hereby and hereon most solemnly and sincerely promise and swear, that I will ever conceal and never reveal any of the secrets or arts of the Lodge to any person or persons whomsoever, except that it be a true and lawful member. I furthermore promise and swear, that I will stand to and abide by all laws, rules, and regulations of the Lodge as far as the same shall come to my knowledge. Further, that I will acknowledge and obey all due signs and summons sent to me from a brother, or given me by a brother. Further, that I will always aid and assist all poor, distressed, worthy members of the Lodge. Further, that I will not give the Sign of distress except in case of the most imminent danger, in a just and lawful Lodge, or for the benefit of instruction; and if ever I should see it given, or hear the words accompanying it, by a worthy brother in distress, I will fly to his relief, if there is a greater probability of saving his life than losing my own. All this I most solemnly, sincerely promise and swear, with a firm and steady resolution to perform the same, without any hesitation, myself, under no less penalty than that of having my body severed in two, my bowels taken from thence and burned to ashes, the ashes scattered before the four winds, that no more remembrance might be had of so vile and wicked a wretch as I would be, should I ever, knowingly, violate this my obligation.

 

But they agreed and they swore.

The hood was taken from his head. Jason stood, blinking in the brightness. As he wiped his eyes, he saw that the others’ hoods had likewise been removed, and that they stood beside him.

They were in a huge room. It may have begun as a natural cavern. Workmen, perhaps taking centuries, had turned it into a wonderland of rock. The room was rectangular. Had they measured, they’d have found that the width and height were identical quantities, and that the length and width formed a golden section. Along all sides were seats and benches carved from the native stone. At one end, a large chair, nearly a throne, dominated the room. Several yards in front of it was a solid stone cube, about four feet on each side. On the cube were a number of implements unknown to Jason and his companions. They stood behind the—call it an altar—facing Tyler’s grandfather, who occupied the throne-like chair.

When he spoke, the room itself seemed to amplify his voice. “Tyler by his actions and later by his words has vouchsafed you to us. On his life, he swore that you would accept the oath not to betray us. Tyler is my grandson, so I am heartily glad you agreed.

“You came to us for sanctuary, and you will find it. Tyler will instruct you in our Mysteries, after which time you may petition to join us or to leave us. Until that time, for your own safety you must spend most of your time underground.”

A man at the opposite end of the room said something in a language that the companions did not understand. All around them, Men and tweens began to leave the room. Tyler came from his own chair by a large double door through which the others were leaving, and led the companions out another door, down a long hallway, and into a suite of rooms.

 

“Grandfather didn’t mean you had to stay underground all the time,” Tyler explained. “When we’re sure that there are no Red Robes nearby we’ll go to the surface for work and play. But you must sleep down here.”

* * * * *

“Everyone in the village works. That enables us to be mostly self-sufficient,” Tyler’s grandfather, Maccus, said. “We do send grain and ironwork into the valley to trade for a few things we cannot produce. Cotton, and cotton cloth, mostly.”

“Why do you not grow cotton here?” Seth asked. “We grew it in my village.”

“There are two reasons,” Maccus replied. “First, cotton requires a growing season of at least 200 nights without frost. Here, near the top of the mountains, the growing season isn’t that long. Your village was not in the mountains, was it?”

Seth shook his head.

“The second reason is that cotton depletes the soil of essential nutrients. If we did grow cotton, in a few years, we’d not be able to grow food. People have known that for aeons, yet they still grow cotton rather than flax, and instead of raising sheep for their wool.”

Maccus continued. “Most of our work comes during Planting and Harvest, of course. But even in the winter months, there are things to be done. We’ve been very careful to preserve the old knowledge, and still be open to new knowledge.

“None of our people are mages, but every tween and adult is a magic user,” Maccus continued. “Each of us endeavors to develop his or her craft magic to its highest level. We don’t know a lot about arcane magic, like scrying and such, but we can find someone to work with each of you to put you on the right road to learning your magic.

“Tyler has explained that we use craft magic as a shield against the Red Robes’ spying,” he continued. “That’s a large part of the reason we keep the mill grinding all year, and the forge and the looms.”

“Does the wind blow all the time?” Troy asked.

Maccus laughed. “We have a saying: the wind blows every day but two and it only stops for one day in the spring and one day in the fall to change directions. But yes, the wind does blow nearly every day. The mill was built near the edge of the plateau in order to catch the wind that blows upslope in the summer and downslope in the winter. Even when the wind doesn’t blow, the mill has been used for so long that the stones hold Craft Magic in them. I see you don’t understand. Well, that will become part of your training.

“Seth, your magic—the magic you were born with—is not unlike the Smith’s craft magic, do you agree?” When the boy nodded, Maccus continued, “Then you shall work with the Smith. He will teach you his craft magic. Perhaps, if you understand the nature of the Smith’s craft magic, you will learn how to use your own magic to build, rather than to destroy.”

Seth nodded. Maccus had drawn the boy aside several days earlier. He spent that day and the next talking to him about his magic. At first, Seth had been angry. Then he’d been sick as he realized that this man knew, without being told, that he’d used his magic to kill. However, Maccus had told the boy that destroying and building were two sides of the same coin. Maccus had convinced Seth that his power could be used to create and to build. Seth had vowed that he would learn how to do that.

“Haley needs to continue learning some of the skills his Gram taught him. Haley, you will work with the weavers. There, you will find that working magic and weaving have a great deal in common, and so will increase your skills in both tasks. You must know by now that Tyler is a Healer. You will spend time with him, too.”

Haley was pleased. He liked Tyler. The boy had humor in him that came out at the oddest times. And, he’d also be able to weave. Several times while weaving, the boy had entered what elsewhere and elsewhen might be called a Zen trance. At first, he’d been frightened, but he soon realized that what he saw in the trance were manifestations of magic. Now, perhaps, he’d learn what they meant, and how to use them.

“Jason, you will work with me. You and I seem to have a similar gift—it used to be called sembling or truth-telling. Yours is more powerful and more—penetrating—than we know, but, as with the others, perhaps we can put you on the path to self-discovery. Perhaps you can teach me, as well.

“Troy, there’s little call for the skills you used on the farm, at least until winter breaks. On the other hand, you said that you can see magic. While many of our Mastercraftsmen can see magic as they work, they have to try very hard to do so. I want you, too, to look very hard at the mill, the smith’s forge, and other places so that you can see the magic that they hold. We will talk about what you’ve seen. I hope to learn as much from you as you do from me.”

Chapter Note: The lodge oath is similar to oaths of similar lodges in our reality such as may be found by a simple search. It is not the oath the boys swore, for that, itself, is secret.

Copyright © 2013 David McLeod; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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It's confusing they swore an oath not to tell what they seen which I understand but after teaching them all winter if the boys want to leave they can. Seems a bit weird that.

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On 10/19/2013 01:51 PM, Daithi said:
It's confusing they swore an oath not to tell what they seen which I understand but after teaching them all winter if the boys want to leave they can. Seems a bit weird that.
Daithi,

Thank you for reading. The oath, teaching, and maybe leaving are (I hope) part of the "tension," and it's a rule that "tension is the heart of drama." Keep reading, and (perhaps) it all will be resolved.

David

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