Forging the Darksword - Margaret Weis [118]
Joram paused in his work for an instant, but continued almost immediately, the muscles in his back and arms rippling and knotting with the exertion as he operated the device that sent a blast of air onto the coals of the forge.
“I hear you have been reading the books.”
Joram might have been deaf. His arms moved in unceasing, rhythmic motion, his dark hair fell forward, curling about his face.
“A little knowledge to one who is otherwise ignorant is like a dagger in the hands of a child, Joram. It can hurt him very badly,” Blachloch continued. “I would have thought you had learned your lesson when you committed murder.”
Glancing at Blachloch through the tangle of his black hair, Joram smiled a smile only visible in the dark, fire-lit eyes. “I would have thought there was a lesson there you could learn,” he said.
“You see? You are threatening me.” From his calm, even tone, Blachloch might have been speaking of the weather. “The child brandishes the dagger. You will cut yourself upon its sharp edges, Joram,” the warlock murmured. “You really will. Either yourself”—Blachloch lifted his shoulders—“or someone else. Can your friend … What’s his name … Mosiah? Can he read?”
Joram’s face darkened, the steady pumping of the bellows slowed slightly. “No,” he answered. “Leave him out of this.”
“I thought not,” Blachloch said blandly. “You and I are the only ones in the village who can read, Joram. And I think that is one too many of us, but there is nothing I can do about it—short of melting your eyes in your head.”
For the first time, the warlock moved his hands, unclasping them and bringing one up to stroke the thin blond mustache that ran across his upper lip. Joram had ceased to work. Keeping his hands on the handles of the bellows, he stared fixedly into the fire.
Blachloch drew nearer. “It would grieve me to destroy the books.”
Joram stirred. “The old man will never tell you where they are.”
“He would,” Blachloch said with a smile, “in time. In time, he would be searching for things to tell me. I have not pressed him before on the matter because it simply wasn’t worth upsetting these people by resorting to violence. It would be a pity if I were forced to change my policy, particularly now that I have the magic.”
Joram’s face flushed, burning in the light of the glowing coals. “You won’t have to,” he muttered.
“Good.” Blachloch clasped his hands together once again. “We Duuk-tsarith know something of these books, you know. There are things written in them that the world is better off for having lost.” The warlock stared intently at Joram, who remained standing where he was, looking into the fire.
“You remind me of myself, young man,” Blachloch said. “And that makes me nervous. I, too, hated authority. I, too, believed myself above it”—the faintest tinge of sarcasm colored his otherwise gray voice—“though I am not of noble blood. To rid myself of those I believed were oppressing me, I, like you, committed murder without guilt, without remorse. You liked that taste of power, didn’t you? And now you crave more. Yes, I see it, I feel it burn in you. I’ve watched you learn, this past year, to manipulate people, to use them and get them to do what you want. You got the old man to show you the books that way, didn’t you?”
Joram did not answer or raise his gaze from the flame. But his left fist clenched.
Blachloch smiled, a smile that was dark in the firelight. “I see great things before you, Joram. In time you will learn how to handle this lust that consumes you. But you are a child still, as young as I was when I committed my first impetuous act—the act that drove me here. There is one difference, though, between you and me, Joram. The man I sought to displace was not aware of me or of my ambition. He turned his back upon me.” Unclasping his hands, the warlock laid one upon the young man’s arm. Even in the warmth of the forge, Joram shivered at the chill touch. “I am aware, Joram, and I will not turn my back upon you.”
“Why don’t you just kill me,” Joram muttered with a sneer, “and have done with