For one thing, his robes were a drab olive colour, devoid of ornamentation and covered in what looked to Benen to be old food and grease stains. Further, he was hatless, leaving his bald head exposed to the sun. His beard, although long and white, was ratty and matted, and also seemed to contain traces of previous meals. He was almost a pathetic figure; almost, but not quite. There was an aura of confidence around this elderly man that radiated from him and implied a surety in his power. Also, the way the crowd of armed men from the village kept their distance from him and treated him with fear and distrustful respect spoke of the man’s dangerous potential; or at least, of the men’s belief in the stranger’s power.
Benen strained to listen to their discussion.
“You will give me what is mine without further delay,” the wizard said, his voice filled with menace. Benen found his accent strange. He spoke with harsh intonations foreign to his ear. He’d heard strange accents before from travelling peddlers, but nothing like what the wizard sounded like.
“Wizard, you own nothing here and are due nothing. Depart and visit us no more,” this bravado from the village’s leader, Alden Smith. Smith was the only man in the village to own a real weapon, a sword, and he held it before him, pointing it at the wizard across the ten feet separating them.
Old Urgest, the village’s oldest man, moved to put his hand on Smith’s arm. “Now, Alden, don’t be saying anything rash,” he counselled.
“This leech lives off our labour and has the nerve to come here and demand to see our children?” Smith retorted.
“I ask for what is mine to take! If you think me a leech, perhaps I should see to it you experience what being an actual leech is like,” the wizard spoke the words with anger.
“Apologize,” Old Urgest implored Smith. Smith’s face was stubborn, but his out-held sword-arm wavered and lowered.
“Now, stop this foolishness and bring out your children aged six to nine summers old,” the wizard demanded.
“No!” it was almost a chorus; the men said it automatically and spontaneously.
Benen saw the wizard’s fingers move and from his mouth came sounds almost inhuman. The crowd of men noticed this also and recoiled in fear. Benen saw on his father’s face a look of terror so naked it chilled him like nothing ever had before. For the first time, he understood there was real danger in this situation.
The tension built as the wizard continued to intone the strange syllables. The men were rooted where they stood by their fear, not moving, as though this might spare them from whatever the wizard intended. The wizard’s incantation built to a crescendo and then suddenly stopped with a harshly intoned word that sounded like
Gildrum
to Benen’s ear. The men had cringed at the completion of the spell and remained this way for moments afterwards.
Nothing happened.
Benen heard a horrible cackling laughter coming from the wizard. The men below Benen resumed more normal stances, their anger at being made fools of overcoming their fear. Some of them made warding signs against evil. Benen knew such signs were useless; he had tried them repeatedly against the annoying Smith girl, who insisted on holding his hand and kissing his cheek, without effect.
“Now, fools, before I truly lose patience with you, bring the children I demanded,” the wizard said with menace.
There was still hesitation and murmured discussion among the gathered men. As this dragged on, the wizard spoke again:
“If you do not disperse to bring me the children immediately, the next spell I cast will be real and will rob each of you of your manhood. Now move!”
This threat sunk into even the slowest of the men and the crowd dispersed in different directions, each heading toward one of the village’s households. They all seemed resigned to bend before this interloping greater power, like one bends before the power of a tornado or earthquake.
It took a few moments for Benen to realize that he was part of the group of children the wizard demanded. Benen had completed his seventh summer two weeks ago. He was his father’s only child within the requested age range. He wondered where his father had gone. Would he be mad when he found out Benen had left the cellar? He resolved to show himself and take his lumps when his father returned. Benen moved away from the building’s edge and made his way back to the ground. Careful to be quiet, he snuck around the building and looked out to the square from his new location. It was less hidden, but it allowed him to reveal himself more easily.
Soon the men returned with children in tow. It took some time for all of them to return, but they eventually all did so. Those who did not have children of the appropriate age had helped those that did. The moment the children saw the wizard they reacted badly. Many of them screamed in fear and most cried. Some tried to run away, but were held fast by their fathers or other men of the village.
“Please don’t feed me to the wizard, Dada!” screamed the Smith girl. Immediately, the other children began to echo her pleas to their own parents. The square was filled with shrill cacophony.
Benen saw the wizard move his hands subtly and precisely. He could hear nothing other than the screaming, but he saw the wizard’s lips were moving. No one else seemed to notice his actions until they bore fruit. Within moments, the first of the children suffered the effects of his wizardry.
Before the eyes of their parents, the children’s lips melded together, their mouths disappearing behind featureless smooth flesh. Benen decided he wouldn’t reveal himself after all; no matter what, he would stay hidden. This wizard was an awful creature! A terrible fear now gripped Benen’s heart.
“That’s better,” said the wizard into the new silence.
The gathered adults turned from their children to face the wizard again, anger writ plain on their faces. Some of them brandished their weapons aggressively once more. Seeing this, the wizard held out his hands theatrically at his sides, fingers crooked for spell-casting. His expression changed from that of mild amusement it had been wearing to one filled with menace.
“You saw what I just did. Don’t let your stupidity drive you to do something I’ll make you regret,” he said coldly.
They set their weapons aside, but the eyes of the men held simmering anger that only waited for a viable avenue through which to express itself. For the moment, the men turned their attentions to their distressed children, comforting their crying and confused charges. The wizard lowered his arms and visibly relaxed.
“Bring the children to me one at a time,” he commanded. No one moved to bring their child forward.
“Now!” the wizard said with such force many of the men startled. Benen watched as Joreg, a farmer who had helped Benen’s family at harvest time in particularly good years, brought forward his son Firil. Firil resisted his father, but the bigger man had no trouble hauling him to stand before the wizard. The wizard looked Firil up and down, as though appraising a horse offered at discount.
“He is the right age,” the wizard said. He moved to grasp the child’s hand, but Firil flinched away. The wizard looked him in the eyes and held out his hand, keeping it there in front of the boy. The wizard’s glare held his eyes and, after some moments, the boy, trembling, reached out to grasp the wizard’s out-held hand. The wizard made a dismissive gesture with his other hand and Firil’s lips reformed in their usual place. He let out a small scream of surprise until his father shook him slightly.
“Now, boy, look up to the sky above. What do you see? Anything unusual?” the wizard asked of Firil.
“N-n-n-no. Na-na-nothing unusual,” Firil said after a moment of looking at the cloudy sky. “Please don’t eat me.” Firil shrank from the wizard as much as he could without reclaiming his hand.
“No points of light?” the wizard prompted further.
“N-no, y-your wizardness, nothing but clouds and sky.” The wizard let go the boy’s hand and motioned for the father and son to move to the side.
“See?” he addressed the crowd of distressed children and parents. “This is all I ask to do. Now, bring them forth swiftly and we can get this over with.” The process went more smoothly thereafter. The parents and children, comforted that no harm was coming to anyone, complied with the wizard’s directions.
Benen watched as the wizard repeated the same steps with each child. Each time, the child reported seeing nothing extraordinary in the sky and each time the wizard motioned the father and child aside.
The last child brought forward was the Smith’s girl. With her, the wizard persisted in asking over and over if she saw anything above. He grew more intense with each denial. After a time, his patience exhausted, the wizard motioned her aside like the others.
“Useless!” he screamed at them. “Why do you waste my time?” he demanded of the crowd.
The men and children were confused. Smith stepped forward.
“We’ve done what you asked, Wizard. Now go!”
The wizard’s face darkened with even more anger.
“Do not forget your place, simpleton!”
“Have we not done everything you asked?” the smith retorted.
The wizard stared into the smith’s eyes for a moment and then a smile appeared on his lips.
“Have you?” the wizard asked, speaking to himself. “Let’s see . . . .”
He began casting again.
The wizard’s chanting echoed oddly to Benen’s ears. The incantations had thus far been incomprehensible to him but this time, the echoes made sounds that were intelligible; they said
come to me.
The moment the words made sense to him, he needed to obey them. The need was not overpowering at first, but the longer he resisted the call, the stronger his need became until, inevitably, his legs started walking him away from the building he had been hiding behind and out into the open. He tried to stop himself with all his will, but the magic was stronger than he was. His face reddened from his efforts. Eventually, he found himself standing in front of the wizard and still the call to
come to me
echoed in his head. The wizard was still chanting.
Benen was now able to control his own body again, so long as he did not try to move away from the wizard. He turned and looked around. His father, the other adults, and even the other children watched him with sympathy. He saw some turn to look toward the southern part of the village. Benen followed their gaze and saw little Edvir Cooper coming toward the wizard from that direction. Edvir moved like a puppet from the shows the travelling folk put on when they come to the village. His entire posture was at odds with the movements he was making. The effect was repellent.
I must have looked like that too
, thought Benen uncomfortably.
Soon, Edvir stood beside him in front of the wizard. The chanting stopped suddenly and the wizard snatched a hand from each of the boys, holding them there before him.
“You thought you could hide from me?” the wizard asked. He seemed to be asking the crowd as much as the two boys themselves. “If you like tricks, you’ll love my reward for you.”
“Please don’t hurt my boy,” pleaded Adgur the cooper, Edvir’s father.
“We’ll see if I hurt your boy, the other boy, or both boys soon enough,” the wizard said ominously. “Boys, look to the sky above and tell me what you see.”
The two looked up. Benen was surprised that he could see the stars. Well, not quite the stars. What he saw were points of light in the same arrangements as the nighttime constellations.
Wait, that’s not right either
, he thought.
Those are the wrong constellations for this time of year.
It was daytime though, and he did not know what constellations
should
be present in the sky.
Benen focused on the point of light that served to show north. It was always in the sky.
“Well, what did you see?” demanded the wizard.
Edvir looked puzzled. “I saw the usual m’lord: sky and clouds.”
“Useless,” spat the wizard. “You?” he looked to Benen.
Benen didn’t know what he should say. Should he lie? He didn’t want to anger the wizard further, but perhaps the wizard had been looking for a child to see exactly what Benen had seen. Maybe he only liked to eat the children who saw stars. Benen didn’t remember anything like that from the stories, but who knew the true motives of wizards?
“I see, er, stars, I guess . . .” he said at last. He’d resolved to tell the truth. He feared that if he lied, the wizard would know and take it out on the village folk.
“Oh?” the wizard looked at him with excitement dancing in his eyes. “Do you see constellations? Which ones?”
“Umm, well, a lot of them. I’m looking at Feldin’s Cock right now,” this was the name given to the constellation that was tipped by the north-pointing star.
“What?!” the wizard’s face contorted in confusion. “That’s not a constellation, stop playing games, boy.”
“Is too!” Benen retorted. “It’s the one with the north star at its tip!”
Realization dawned on the wizard’s face.
“Do you see the one that is eight stars in a circle?” he asked Benen.
“The whore’s girdle? No,” Benen spoke before thinking. He was suddenly afraid that the wizard would be angry that he didn’t see the expected constellation. He needn’t have worried though, the wizard smiled the broadest smile Benen had ever seen; it showed the his rotten and crooked teeth quite plainly.