To Challenge a Maestro Read online

  Daniel decided this was no joke. He began to suspect that his time in Aakadon was going to be worse than previously imagined. It was a good thing his stay was only temporary, living with such people for any great length of time would be pure misery.

  “I think you three should’ve kept going once you were free of that city,” Tim said, giving words in agreement with Daniel’s own opinion. “It sounds like a terrible place to live.”

  Jerremy cleared his throat, apparently wanting to draw attention. “The Teki ran away five times, that I know of. The Eagle Guild tracked him down each time and brought him back in a less than gentle manner. They always found him and so he is very familiar with the various ways an Accomplished can teach respect for the rules.”

  Samuel glared at the Serinian and might even have punched him in the mouth had he been close enough. He settled for a verbal attack. “I remember you receiving a goodly number of lessons on humility over the years. The last was only a few months ago.”

  Jerremy pointed his nose upward, giving the impression the remark was beneath his notice, and the words of the Teki were less important than the sound of the wind whispering between the pine needles above.

  The lesson was close to pointless, Daniel did not care how certain people wanted to be addressed or how many times either of the Talenteds received lessons in proper respect and humility. “I don’t want to learn anything but how to rid myself of this link to Tarin Conn,” he told them with a degree of irritability that surprised even him. The lack of sleep was lowering his tolerance. The last thing he needed to hear was two young men acting like a pair of small boys.

  Sherree drew Misty closer to Sprinter and leaned toward Daniel, letting him see her face, full of concern, within the cloak. “Listen to what Samuel is telling you. The Accomplisheds teach us as they see fit and you need their knowledge, not the other way around. You are coming to Aakadon to request a favor, have you heard anything about gratuities?”

  “Yes,” Daniel replied, he knew what she told him made sense, and he had not given the gratuity much thought. He remembered Terroll making a big issue of it, insisting on making payment for the memory spell.

  Sherree smiled good-naturedly. “What do you have to offer, mountain man?” she asked with a playful gleam in her eye and a hint of affection.

  Daniel cleared his throat and noticed Samuel and Jerremy smiling, waiting to hear him admit that he had little to offer. “I have what you see,” he stated.

  “Then you are depending upon their good will,” the Serinian pointed out, as if the fact was not already obvious. “I suggest you greet them in the manner they have become accustomed, such would be the prudent course of action.”

  Tim glared at the Talented, and there was fire in his eyes, few people managed to provoke the drummer, but it did happen from time to time. “Daniel isn’t going to grovel at anyone’s feet,” he declared. Mountain folk never begged and rarely asked for anything. In truth, the need never came up, people on the mountain helped each other without being asked; it was like an unwritten code. Daniel had asked the villagers if they would accept his help only because he had previously given his word to leave and not come back. Tim was correct, there would be no groveling.

  Jerremy’s face turned bright red and he turned on the drummer. “Aakacarns do not grovel, ever!” he said, and then smiled in a less than friendly manner. “You, mountaineer, are not an Aakacarn. A certain amount of groveling may be necessary for you to stay with Daniel.”

  Tim swallowed, he was not frightened by the Talented, but it was clear he had not given his situation much thought. He had no divine right to stay in Aakadon or even be granted entrance. “I’ll do what I must,” he said after a few awkward moments.

  “You sound like Daniel,” Sherree told him, but it was impossible to tell by her tone whether or not the words were a compliment.

  The column came to a stop shortly after the last of the soldiers rounded the bend and a large flat area came in sight off to the right. General Tallen a middle-aged gentlemen possessing few wrinkles, a round face, and a man who seemed more muscle than fat, trotted his black charger back from the lead position and reigned in beside Samuel. The general wore a pair of gold stars on the collar of his light green silk shirt, beneath which was the finest quality chain mail, and four golden hawks on the shoulders of his gold trimmed, slightly darker shade of green, jacket. The royal hawk in flight was engraved in gold on his green lacquered helmet. “We will be camping here for the night. Sergeant DuLevin will see to your accommodations, such as we have to offer. Talented Sherree will be provided a tent of her own,” he said in a deep no nonsense tone of voice.

  “Thank you, General,” Sherree said. This seemed to be the only situation in which she would tolerate being treated differently than her male counterparts.

  The soldiers were quick and efficient and soon had all of the tents up. A pleasant aroma wafted on the breeze from over near the chuck wagon and all was going well. The dinner consisted of beef jerky, beans, tough brown bread, and a strong tea sweetened with honey, for those who preferred their drink that way.

  General Tallen ate with Daniel, Tim, and the Talenteds, expressing his thanks once again for the healing Daniel had performed on him back in Bashierwood. The commanding officer had been sorely wounded, his spine severed, and death close upon him. He was healthier now than ever before and claiming to have more vigor. The old aches and pains he had accumulated over the years were gone. Daniel was glad to have been of help. Tallen finished his meal and went off to discuss some cavalry business with his officers.

  The men were respectful, but kept their distance from Daniel and the Talenteds. Fearful, perhaps, because one of the four might choose to cast a spell, and no Ducaunan, Royal Cavalry or not, wanted to be anywhere near when that happened. Never mind that most of the soldiers had benefited from the spell castings, during and since the Battle of Bashierwood, but Daniel understood and would probably have behaved similarly if he were one of the horsemen.

  Tim dug a shallow pit for a fire and then pulled a piece of flint from a bag tied to his belt. Jerremy stepped past him with a smug look on his face. “Allow me,” he said, and then summoned the potential. A violet glow surrounded him, though only the eyes of another Aakacarn could see the radiant energy. A thin beam of light shot from his right ring finger and struck the kindling. A fire burst to life and consumed the wood like a pig going at a corn husk.

  Most of the men moved as far as they could get from the casting, but surprisingly, a good many came over, evidently seeking entertainment, and some actually applauded. The Talented went on to cast more harmless spells to the delight of his audience; all except for Samuel, who grumbled under his breath.

  Daniel tried to behave as if the display of power interested him, and not so very long ago it probably would have, but not so much now. This was not unlike watching a child draw a crude picture and then seek praise for the effort. He applauded along with the others because watching Jerremy perform was preferable to falling asleep. The longer they all stayed awake and making noise, the easier it was for him to remain conscience.

  “He’s not trying to loosen the tongues of children now,” Samuel complained loud enough to be heard only a short distance.

  Sherree fixed the Teki with a sidelong stare, one eyebrow raised, and when he opened his mouth as if to say more she said, “Shhh!”

  Samuel mumbled something under his breath and then frowned at the Serinian. There was certainly no love loss between the two. They tolerated each other and seemed to only work together when absolutely required to do so. How they ever decided who was to direct the wind spell the Talenteds used during the Battle of Bashierwood was a mystery. The Lobenian no doubt kept the two from going at each other’s throats.

  Jerremy eventually ended his spell casting show and made himself comfortable near the fire. No words were exchanged between he and Samuel and they avoided eye contact with each other. Sherree kept looking at Daniel. Part of him was pleased s
he was looking, but he was a little uncomfortable with the level of scrutiny she was giving him. She made him consider things that could never be, not with Val, and certainly not with an Aakacarn.

  Mercifully, General Tallen walked over and cleared his throat, drawing attention to himself, and away from the various under currents, not that his presence alone was not sufficient for the task. He would be a difficult man to ignore. “Good evening,” he said, and then seated himself beside the Teki, who was still brooding.

  Tim sprang to his feet and ran toward the horses; perhaps he felt they would prove to be better company. By the somber looks on the surrounding faces, including those of the soldiers in the wider camp, Daniel figured his friend could have the right idea. His fellow mountaineer returned minutes later with the drums in one hand and the guitarn in the other. He laid the six-stringed instrument on the grass and then began beating a familiar rhythm.

  Daniel smiled and picked up the hand-crafted gift from his father. His fingers danced over the strings to the melody known in the backwoods as, the Hunters Fancy. He began to sing in a strong baritone, Tim harmonized, coming in with his smooth tenor, and by the time they finished, the soldiers were gathering around and the Talenteds each had their instruments out. Daniel immediately started another song, Love and the Dish Maid, a tune that soon had many of the horsemen dancing. The song ended and even Samuel was smiling and seemed to be in a good mood, everybody appeared to be. Jerremy was grinning and Sherree’s eyes positively radiated pleasure. The love of music was the thing shared by the three, the common binding thread, apart from being Aakacarns.

  “Lets play, Felsum’s Fifth Overture,” suggested the Serinian.

  Sherree and Samuel agreed immediately and raised their instruments to play. The melody was unfamiliar, but General Tallen seemed to recognize and enjoy it. Without a doubt, the overture was well known among the nobility. Tim kept the beat and after carefully listening, Daniel began to play along as if he had known the music all his life. The overture ended to great applause.

  “Let’s play, Riding the Wind,” Tim suggested, making the very selection Daniel was about to offer up.

  The drum beat began slowly and picked up speed. The guitarn practically sang the instrumental with Daniel’s fingers licking the strings. Sherree joined in with her flute and Jerremy’s vyolin added a soulfulness rarely given to the piece. Samuel added his trumpet and lifted the melody to a whole new level.

  Five thousand men applauded and shouted for more. The music was uplifting and Daniel was willing to play all night.

  Sherree began a sweet melody, Flight of the Whippoorwill, and it was so beautiful no one wanted to disturb her solo. Daniel played the tune many times over the years, enjoying it immensely, but had never before heard it played on a flute. He closed his eyes and could picture the delicate bird in flight and hear its call.

  “That’s the melody your mother, wrote,” Tim told Daniel, when the tune ended, as if he needed telling.

  Sherree laid the flute in her lap. “Yes, I heard her playing it on the guitarn. She was entertaining the children at the time.”

  The melody stirred up emotions Daniel had been trying very hard not to show. “You played wonderfully,” he told her, and meant it.

  Sherree’s eyes widened as if heartened greatly by the compliment, as though his good opinion meant a great deal to her. “I’m glad you liked it,” was all she said.

  “Your mother has skills,” Samuel commented.

  “Best I’ve ever heard,” Daniel replied, totally biased, and not a bit ashamed to be so.

  Another melody came to mind, one inspired by the emerald-eyed Talented. Daniel began playing, the Woodcutters Daughter, and Tim and the three Aakacarns joined in on the second verse. When the concert ended, General Tallen stood clapping his hands along with the rest of his soldiers. They really seemed to appreciate the entertainment.

  The commanding officer extended his hand. “That was a grand performance,” he said, and then added in a lower tone, “Not just here, but also in Bashierwood. You have my eternal gratitude.”

  Daniel laid the guitarn on the grass and shook the general’s hand. “I’m happy to have been of help.”

  Tallen nodded acknowledgement.

  Daniel walked across the camp carrying his guitarn and Tim’s drums. Fires were banked low as the soldiers made ready to turn in for the night and individuals were posted for guard duty, though no attack was expected. Daniel cast a quick Find spell, sensing out to a five span radius, any greater potential would have ripple affects, and determined, other than a wolf pack three quarters of a span to the southeast, and they were unlikely to attack, that there was no danger. Even still, it was good to know the cavalry would be quick to respond should it prove necessary.

  Countless stars twinkled in the heavens, a backdrop for the stately orb glowing in its fullness above. An owl hooted in the distance, adding its voice to the nightly chorus of nocturnal sounds. The horses were corralled within a rope and picket fence. The slats were a hand span wide, four cubits long, with the bottom tapering to a point, pounded into the ground five paces apart, and connected by ropes strung between them.

  Daniel slipped between two of the four one inch hemp lines, made his way to Sprinter, placed his guitarn in its case, and then tied the drums to the back of Tremor’s saddle. The saddles had been removed from each horse and placed on the ground beside them. Daniel would have rubbed down his and Tim’s mounts but Lieutenant Benettle, the red-haired young officer who had entreated Daniel to help his wounded commander after the Battle of Bashierwood, insisted on grooming both horses. The stallions, mares, and geldings, seemed eager for attention, so Daniel petted each one, taking his time, and trying to forget, for a little while, what lay ahead. The wilderness was all he knew. Aakadon would be his first experience in a city, or even a town, other than Dowman’s End, and that was not much larger than the village of Bashierwood.

  He finished petting the horses and slowly made his way back to the fire where Tim and the three Aakacarns were sitting. The drummer had little in common with those around him, like a fox among hounds. Daniel sat down, making it two foxes. He listened quietly to the ensuing conversation.

  Jerremy had put away his vyolin and was sitting cross legged on the ground. “I enjoyed the concert,” he was saying.

  Samuel blinked, broken away from an unspoken thought, and looked up. “You play the guitarn very well, and you Tim, did an excellent job on the drums.”

  “Thanks,” Daniel and Tim replied at the same time, there baritone and tenor harmonizing unintentionally.

  Sherree sat staring like a mother eagle eyeing her chick. She opened her mouth to say something but then opened it even wider into a yawn. She brought her hand up to her mouth, shook her head, and said, “Oh, excuse me.”

  Daniel figured, at that moment, he would excuse just about anything she asked him to. “Of course,” he said, along with Tim and the two male Aakacarns.

  “You’ll love the architecture in Aakadon,” Jerremy said with a dreamy look in his eyes. No doubt he had a genuine appreciation for large structures. He went on to say, “The buildings are magnificent works of art, yet fully functional. I’m going to design great towers and palaces; I have lots of ideas along those lines.”

  The Serinian seemed to be destined for the Stone Guild. The finer things in life appealed to him. Daniel had little interest in vast displays of wealth, although had nothing against people who did. His ambitions were simple, hunting and trapping for food and clothing, and living off the land using only what was necessary to survive. Everything he needed was in his saddlebag or on his back; anything else at this point would be a hindrance.

  Samuel leaned forward, his face glowing with enthusiasm in the flickering light. He looked as though he was about to make a long awaited announcement. “I’ve decided to affiliate with the Eagle Guild. I want to be out and about keeping order in otherwise lawless places and confronting the Serpent Guild whenever and wherever they surfa
ce.”

  The Teki’s choice suited him, not only his wandering heritage, but his personality, his drive to keep moving. He was not the sort of fellow who would enjoy being restricted to one location and he certainly seemed driven to do what was right; as he saw it.

  Sherree had healed three birds, a squirrel, and a raccoon, since leaving Bashierwood. She also demonstrated her compassion by the way she cared for the injured folk after the yetis attacked. There was no doubt her choice would be the Aloe Guild. Daniel observed the sleepy Talented. The spell she cast with the touch of her hand was the only relief he could have, her casting was the major reason he was functioning at all. Holding out against Tarin Conn would have been difficult, if not impossible, without her help.

  Daniel refocused his attention on the fire, but his mind was still on the female Aakacarn and how much trouble he would be in if she decided to stop helping him. He could heal his own injuries, doing so for himself took more power than when he healed others, but he could not use his energy to give himself more energy. The physical cost of summoning the Potential would nullify any benefits. What would be the point when the best he could achieve is to feel the same?

  “I’m going to bed,” Sherree announced, and then stood up. Green smudges on the bottom of her silk clothing stood out in the flickering light, contrasted against the white. An amber glow formed and the grass stains vanished from her backside. “Good night,” she said, and then went to her tent.

  Samuel and Jerremy bade a, “Good night,” but not to each other, and then walked away. The earlier concert caused them to set aside their dislike for one another, but it was back again and probably would not go away until the next concert or joint spell casting.

  Tim sat sleepy-eyed near the fire. The red-orange flames licked at the dried wood, consuming it with the eagerness of a kitten lapping up spilt milk. His eyes seemed to be fighting a losing battle to stay open. They lost, and moments later his head jerked forward, snapping him awake. “Why don’t you go to bed?” he asked in the middle of a yawn. “Don’t you want to sleep?”