Spellfire - Ed Greenwood [109]
The strong hands faltered and then stopped. "I know not." Gorstag reached for the brass oil-flask and stoppered it. "I know not," he said again. "That's the worst of it!" Abruptly he clenched his hand; the flask in his grasp was crushed out of shape. "I want to be out there looking for her, doing something!" he whispered fiercely, and Lureene put her arm about him impulsively. She could tell Gorstag was on the edge of tears. He spoke in a tone she'd never heard from him before. "Why did she go?" he asked. "What did I do wrong that she hated it here so much?"
Lureene had no answer, so she kissed his rough cheek, and when he turned his head, startled, stilled his sobs with her lips. When at last she withdrew to breathe, he protested weakly, "Lureene! What-?"
"You can be scandalized in the morning," she said softly and kissed him again.
12: Sbcrdocos
The hawk circles and circles, and waits. Against most prey he will have but one strike. He waits therefore for the best chance. Be as the hawk. Watch and wait, and strike true. The People cannot afford foolish deaths in battle. War to slay, not to fight long and glorious.
Aermhar of the Tangletrees
Advice before the Council in the Elven Court
Year of the Hooded Falcon
"I-I am too tired, lady," Narm said apologetically.
"I cannot concentrate." Jhessail nodded.
"I know you are. That is why you must. How else will you build the strength of your will to something sharper and harder than a warrior's steel, as the old mages say?"
Jhessail's smile was wry. "You will find, even if you never adventure from this day forth, that you will almost never have quiet, comfort, good light, or space enough to study as you are taught to do. You will always be struggling to fix spells in memory while over-tired, or sick, or wounded and in pain, or in the midst of snoring, groaning, talking, or even crying. Learn now, and you will be glad of it, then."
"My thanks in advance, then, good lady" Narm returned as wryly. Jhessail grinned.
"You learn, you learn," she said. "Well… why are you not staring at the pages before you? The spells will not remember themselves, you know."
Narm shook his head, a half-smile of frustration on his face, as he said, "I simply can't! It's not possible!"
"So says the warrior when told to learn spells and become a great mage," Jhessail countered, sitting suddenly in a smooth swirl of silver-gray robes. "So, too, the thief. But you already cast spells! I have seen you… the smallest cantrip you work says you can.
'Can't' died' when you read your first runes, lad! You sit there and lie to me with open face and open spellbooks both? You can do better than that!"
"Aarghh!" Narm answered in frustration, striking the table with his fist. "I cannot think with you talking to me, always talking! Marimmar never did this to me! He-"
"Died in an instant because his foolishness was far greater than his art," Jhessail replied. "I expect more of you than that, Narm. Moreover, you must expect different ways of mastering art whenever you seek a different tutor. Question neither the methods nor the opinions freely given, even if they make you flame within, and do not belittle the knowledge imparted. It will shut off, as one shuts off a tap, and you will get no more for all your pleading and coins. You would be a mage, and know not what sort of pride you will have to deal with, yet? I know well-I'm dealing with your pride, right now!"
"I-my apologies, Jhess-Lady Jhessail. I have no wish to offend you. I-"
"-can avoid such offense by looking to your pages and trying to study through my jabber, and not wasting my time! I am older than you by a good start, lad. I have less left to me than you do, by far, if you have the wits enough to live to full growth-an increasingly doubtful prospect, it is true, but one that I will cling to nonetheless."
Narm tossed up his hands in wordless despair and