Fistandantilus Reborn - Douglas Niles [56]
“I await your commands, your inspiration!” I pledged with utmost sincerity.
“We are sending you once again into the world beyond the walls of our temple,” continued my mentor gravely.
“Where, my lords?” I inquired in tones as bold as I could muster.
“Your diligence in the matter of the archmage is well known,” declared Thantal, one of the other masters. “It has been suggested that you journey to a place where you might continue that study, where you might seek to add to your work… and at the same time seek something else as well.”
I was admittedly intrigued. Even at that moment, I had determined upon an initial target for my studies.
“Field research – and a quest for magic,” declared Patriarch Grimbriar, putting all the cards on the table (if Your Excellency is not repelled by a gambling metaphor).
“What kind of magic?” I dared to ask.
It was Falstar who replied. “Any kind, my son. You are to travel for a year, and it is hoped that you will take advantage of the time to further your studies on the matter of Fistandantilus.”
“However, it is expected, nay, required” – the patriarch’s tone was very stern indeed – “that you return to these premises in possession of a spell of clerical magic. You must do this within the allotted time of a year, or your course of study under the Scale of Gilean shall be terminated.”
His words chilled into a ball of ice within my gut. I had struggled mightily to learn a spell, but if I had failed within the reverent, controlled environment of the monastery, it did not seem likely that I could succeed in the chaos of the outside world.
“Do you have an idea,” Falstar asked, “of where you might commence your journey?”
To that, I replied with confidence. “You may recall from my research the discovery of a man, a false priest of the Seekers, who once lived in Haven,” I replied. Encouraged by my listeners’ apparent interest, I continued.
“During the time of the Seekers, he established a false religion, gaining considerable prestige until the coming of the dragonarmies. He left the city then, but I have encountered hints in my studies that suggest he may still live somewhere in the remote and mountainous country south of Qualinesti.”
“Why does this particular cleric – a false cleric, it should be noted-interest you?” There was honest curiosity in Brother Thantal’s voice.
“Because his sect was based on a worship of Fistan-dantilus,” I replied.
“Appropriate enough,” agreed Grimbriar. “But the man must be very old by now. Perhaps he has died.”
“He may have died,” I agreed, “but I doubt that he is old.” In the face of their questioning glares, I explained. “His sect lasted for some fifty years in Haven, yet at the time of its dissolution, he was still a young man. He had found a means to avoid the effects of aging.” (I did not mention my supposition, but I believed even then that the bloodstone of Fistandantilus might have been the key to this longevity.) “That is interesting,” Falstar Kane declared with a pleased smile. “May the god of neutrality watch over you on your travels.”
“And grant you good fortune as well,” added the patriarch. (For all his sternness, I believe that he really did want me to succeed.) So it was that I left the monastery in Palanthas behind, taking ship to New Ports, then following a rough overland road into the depths of the Kharolis wilderness.
And it is there, Excellency, that my story truly begins, in that future era when I was a much younger man.
In Devotion to the Truth,
Your Loyal Servant,
Foryth Teel
CHAPTER 20
A Disturbance in the Night
374 AC
Fourth Bakukal, Paleswelt-First Linaras, Reapember The apple orchard was right where the kendermaid had said it would be. Tethering Nightmare to a sturdy branch, Danyal gathered as much of the fruit as he could. He placed the apples in his creel, for lack of a better place, and then ate several while he sat on the grass and watched the black horse graze.
Nightmare, for her part, glared balefully at the lad, the relentless stare of the large brown eyes making Danyal very uneasy. He imagined the