Angel of Storms (Millennium's Rule, #2)(44)
Tyen obeyed, knowing that the more he objected he had no time for this, the more stubborn the old man would be about it. Yet he was also drawn to this act of normality. He drew in a deep breath, savouring the smells of the paper and ink.
According to Tarren, calligraphy focused and refined the mind. The walls of his rooms were decorated with banners, each containing a favourite quote. Some were wise, some funny, and others didn’t appear to make any sense. Though Tyen had been able to speak the Traveller tongue by the time he reached Liftre, he had not been able to write it well. Tarren had insisted Tyen spend every evening here, practising until he formed the characters to a standard the old man judged worthy of a scholar.
Tyen doubted Tarren would be indulging in his hobby if he thought the Raen was about to attack the school. He picked up the brush.
“What’s it like down there?” Tarren asked, not lifting his gaze from his work.
“Lots of rushing about, parents arriving, people leaving. I think a few are stealing things.”
Tarren’s hand was steady as he curled his brush in a perfect circle, paler at first then darkening to full black at the end of the stroke. “The meeting attendance?”
“A quarter of the students and teachers turned up. And quite a few servants.” He moistened the bristles of his brush with water, then dried the excess on the cloth.
“What do you make of all this?”
“I admit, I can’t grasp it. How can one man ruin all that has been built here? Who is he to decide what others can learn and where they may go?”
“One very powerful man who you should not cross, Tyen,” Tarren warned. “No matter what you feel about his right to rule, or methods of enforcing it.”
Tyen dipped the tip of the bristles in the ink, then scraped it across the bowl’s edge to reduce the quantity it held. “But… no matter how strong he is, or how old, how can one person, who can only be in one place at any time, keep all the worlds under his control?”
“‘Magic is but one tool available to a king’,” Tarren quoted.
This was written on one of the banners downstairs, where visitors would see it as they entered. Tyen pondered the possible meanings. “So he is clever, too.”
“Yes. While all know he will not hesitate to punish those who defy or disobey him, or kill those who might become a threat to him, fear is not his prime method of maintaining control. Instead, he makes deals and trades favours. Sometimes he does this in order to achieve his aims, but as often it is to achieve the aims of others. He helps those who request it, whether their purpose is gain or survival. He has made people rich and worlds powerful. Yet he has also rescued countless people from disaster, natural or human. He has led wars, but more often he has prevented or ended them.”
“So whatever he does… there is always a favour required in return?”
“Yes. If not immediately, then held in reserve.”
Tyen dipped the brush in the water again so the ink shrank to the root of the bristles. “Is the price high?”
“Only the other party can judge that. It is said that he never asks for anything you are unwilling to do or give. I say: better to offer something he wants that you are willing to give than be in debt to him.”
“Better to never need anything in the first place.” Tyen frowned down at the paper. He could think of nothing to write. He looked up at his friend. “Where can I go that’s safe, Tarren? There must be a limit to his influence. If I travel far enough, surely I’ll find places he doesn’t get to often enough to maintain control, or at all.”
The old man’s arm moved in another practised arc. “The worlds are like stepping stones in a river to him. He can walk across them as quickly as breathing. Places that would take you half a cycle to reach he can travel to in moments.”
Tyen stared at the old man. “Nobody is that powerful.”
Tarren looked up. “Plenty would be, if they weren’t in the habit of getting themselves killed at a young age. You might have the strength for it. I’ve met few sorcerers with your reach and ability, and I don’t think you’ve ever truly stretched as far as you could.”
A stab of fear went through Tyen. “So he would want to kill me, if he found me?”
The old sorcerer’s expression was serious. “If you gave him reason to. The trouble is, unless you have bonds to a place, an ability like travelling between worlds is a hard one to resist using. It is like being able to walk safely as far as you’d like, but being ordered to stay inside your home. It feels like a restriction of your freedom.”
“And you’re warning me that I have to,” Tyen guessed.
“Not necessarily.” Tarren straightened. “Kik was right that his meagre powers would be of no use to the Raen. You, on the other hand, have much to offer. You also have no personal reason to hate him.”
Tyen stared at the old man. “You’re suggesting I work for him?”
“I’m suggesting you serve him. He’s a ruler, not an employer.” Tarren’s smile was grim.
“But… isn’t that a betrayal?”
“Of what? Liftre will soon be gone. The people here have many different alliances and causes, none of which are yours. As many would approve of your decision as not.” Tarren nodded to the banner he had just painted. Looking down, Tyen read the words: “Choose your enemies with care”.