Hunt of the Bandham (The Bowl of Souls: Book Three) (22 page)

“You can really communicate with him when he’s that far away?” Justan asked.

“I have had a lot of practice.” Master Coal explained. “Oh, here comes Samson now.”

Justan looked towards the gates at the front of the keep and saw Gwyrtha come in, followed by an enormous man riding a horse. At least that is what Justan thought he saw, but there was something odd about the man. Gwyrtha was frolicking about him, getting in the way and Justan couldn’t get a good look at him. He was laughing and talking to her. The man had short brown hair and a neatly-trimmed beard. He must have just gotten back from working the fields because he had a shovel over one shoulder.

Then it hit Justan. The man wasn’t riding a horse; he was part of the horse. His torso rose from the place where the horse’s neck was supposed to be. “Samson is a centaur? I thought that they were just myths!”

“No. He isn’t a centaur,” Master Coal said. “Well . . . he is, but he isn’t. He’s a centaur of sorts, but not a centaur like in the myths. There is no real race of centaurs. At least I don’t think there is. There is not proof that they exist anyway.”

Samson arrived with Gwyrtha at his side. He was taller than Fist, his waist starting at Justan’s shoulder. He scratched Gwyrtha behind the ears fondly. Justan could feel her happiness through the bond. Somehow it felt as if she had known the man for a long time.

“Justan, this is Samson,” Master Coal said formally. “He is a rogue horse.”

Justan stared stupidly up at Samson for a moment before remembering to extend his hand in greeting. “Uh, good to meet you.”

“It is good to meet you, Sir Edge. Gwyrtha is very happy with you, I see,” Samson said, his voice a proud baritone. He bent to grasp Justan’s hand, but paused and cleared his throat. “Coal?”

“Sorry,” Master Coal said.

To Justan’s further surprise, Samson began to shrink. His lower body went from the size of a large quarter horse to that of a small pony. He shook Justan’s hand and smiled, now only a foot or so taller than Justan.

Master Coal sighed. “As for your meeting Bettie, she has refused to leave the forge. It looks like we will have to go and meet her there.” The wizard headed towards the rear of the keep.

Justan followed him, but glanced back over at Samson once again. He was having difficulty processing this particular development. He wasn’t sure why. After all, he had seen some amazing things over the past year. Perhaps it had something to do with the odd way his day had started out.

“I know how you feel, son,” Lenny whispered. “Samson and Bettie were the ones that approached us when the farmer’s started hollerin’. When I first saw Samson there I nearly lost my drawers. But wait till you meet Bettie. She’s a right fine filly that one. A bit strange maybe, but built like a . . . well she’s a real woman I’ll say that much.”

The dwarf had a twinkle in his eye, but Justan wasn’t sure what was causing it. Lenny had called her a filly. Was she a rogue horse too? They arrived at the forge just as she came out. Bettie wore a heavy blackened leather apron and large thick gloves that she was taking off as she muttered to herself.

“Fine, Coal. Fine. I’ll come meet this new student of yours. Don’t matter how much work I . . . oh.” She saw them standing in front of her and stuck out her hand. Justan shook it despite being afraid she might crush his hand in hers. She forced a cursory smile. “Hello then. I’m Bettie.”

Bettie was the most muscular woman Justan had ever seen. She was tall. About his same height, and the way her arms bulged out reminded him of Fist’s. She had a full head of curly black hair that was pulled back into a pony tail to keep it from the stray sparks generated by the forge. Her eyes were a light yellow color and her skin had a greenish tint to it. It took Justan a moment to realize why. Then he noticed the way her teeth were slightly pointed. He was sure of it. She was a half-orc.

“I am Ju- Edge. Nice to meet you,” he said and gave a short bow as was proper when meeting a lady for the first time.

“Hey, he actually bowed.” Bettie laughed. She slapped Justan on the arm. “Lenny, he’s just like you said. I like this one. Even got some meat on him.”

She released Justan’s hand and reached out to grab Lenny’s shirt sleeve. “C’mere dwarf. I could use your help with an order I got to fill.”

“That’s our Bettie,” Coal said with a chuckle. He peered through the entrance of the forge and turned back to Justan. “Why don’t you come on in? There is one more person I would like you to meet. He was out working by the time you got up this morning or I would have introduced you sooner.”

As Justan followed Master Coal inside, the wizard called out, “Son?”

A large man working at a table in the back of the forge turned towards them with a grin. When he saw Justan walking towards him, his cheeks went red and the smile faded.

Justan stopped in disbelief. The day couldn’t possibly get stranger. He immediately went back to the theory that this was all a dream.

“Sir Edge, this is my son, Benjo. I- . . . Wait, do you two already know each other?”

Master Coal’s question hung in the air and Justan could see the panicked and pleading look in Benjo’s eyes. He took that to mean Master Coal didn’t know everything that Benjo had done in Training School. Justan wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t really care if Benjo got in trouble, but he didn’t know how Master Coal would react to hearing the horrible things his son had done. Besides, the last thing he needed while he was there was to have an enemy plotting against him at every turn.

“Wow, y-yes I knew him at the Training School!” Justan said. He walked forward and shook Benjo’s hand very tightly, careful to make sure that Master Coal couldn’t see his facial expression. “Benjo, so good to see you! I didn’t know that Master Coal was your father.”

“Justan!” Benjo said, swallowing quickly. “You didn’t know? Benjo, son of Coal, remember?”

“Oh! Right!” Justan slapped his forehead. He had gone by the name of Benjo Plunk back at the Training School. “Don’t know why I didn’t put that together. We definitely have some catching up to do,” Justan said, conveying as much menace as possible with his eyes without showing it in his voice.

“So what are you doing here?” Benjo asked, blanching at Justan’s look.

“Benjo, he isn’t Justan anymore. He was named a short time ago. This is the ‘Sir Edge’ we have been talking about.”

Benjo’s face went even paler and he said only, “Congratulations.”

“What a nice surprise, you two knowing each other. I can’t wait to tell your mother!” Coal said, clapping the two of them on the back. “Well, we’ll let you get back to work, son. Sir Edge and I have a lot to discuss.” Coal gestured towards the doorway. 

“Benjo, I’ll come by and see you later. We’ll talk.” Justan said with a cheerful tone in his voice. But he shot him a parting glare at just before they left the forge. The large man gulped.

Master Coal walked up to Qyxal, who was still talking with Samson just outside of the forge. “Samson, would you please take Qyxal up to the stables and show him what responsibilities we will need him to take on?” When they had left, the wizard turned back to Justan. “As for you, Sir Edge-.”

“Master Coal, may I make a request?” Justan interrupted.

“Of course.”

“Could you just call me . . . Edge?” Justan had wanted to bring this up all morning. He would rather that the wizard call him Justan, but it seemed inappropriate to ask him to do so. “I feel awkward with you calling me ‘Sir Edge’ all the time.”

“As you wish.” Coal smiled and nodded. “Now that we have that out of the way, follow me. We need to talk about your teaching.”

“But shouldn’t Qyxal come with us? He is going to study with you too.”

“Qyxal doesn’t need to learn about bonding. Besides, he is a mage. He is at the point in his learning where he needs to decide the direction of his own studies. I will help him as I can, but that is a discussion that he and I can have later. You, on the other hand, have very specific needs.”

He led Justan back along the center street past a row of houses. Each one was built with smooth timbers and painted a different color. They weren’t large, but looked comfortable.

Justan had to ask, “Whose houses are those?”

“The first house is Bettie’s and the second one is Samson’s. Willum’s house is just behind them and my home is the one next to the lodge.”

Justan tried to imagine Samson living in a house. The picture seemed a bit odd. He looked at the second house again. There was no front porch and the doorway was taller than the others. Before he said anything, Coal answered his question.

“Yes, Samson uses his house. He doesn’t sleep indoors unless it is raining, but everyone needs a place of their own to get away to from time to time.”

Justan followed the wizard between his and Samson’s house, past Willum’s and behind the lodge where there was a garden full of the vegetable that Coal had called honstule. The plants had large waxy green leaves and each vegetable was tipped with a gorgeous purple flower. Justan couldn’t imagine what farmer wouldn’t want to have that plant in his own garden, if only just for their beauty.

A stone-lined path ran down the center of the garden and ended at a building that was twice the size of any of the other houses. Unlike the others, this one was made of red brick and mortar and a well-kept flower bed ran around the outside of it. Master Coal opened the door and beckoned Justan inside.

“This, Edge, is my study.”

Justan walked inside to find that the building consisted of one large room well lit with glowing orbs and lined with bookshelves. The ceiling was high and arched and the floor was covered with a fine burgundy carpet. There was a large, highly polished wooden desk towards the back under a wide window, a comfortable looking couch and a few padded leather chairs with small tables beside them. Justan walked over to the books and scanned the titles while Master Coal spoke.

“This is the one place in my keep where I can sit and feel like a wizard. It is my little piece of the
Mage
School
, so to speak and this is where we will have most of your lessons.” He gestured to a chair. “Please, Edge, have a seat.”

“Thank you, Master Coal,” Justan said and sat in the chair the wizard offered. “It feels nice to be in a library again. I miss the one in the
Mage
Tower
very much.”

“So do I,” Master Coal said and for a moment, Justan could see sadness on his face. “Now, before we start, let me quickly thank you for your kindness to Benjo back there.”

“Kindness, sir?”

“When you said that you didn’t realize he was my son, the look on his face told me everything.”

“It did?” Justan asked. How much had Benjo told him?

“Don’t worry about it. I completely understand why he didn’t use my name when he lived at the Training School,” Coal said. “I am not his birth father after all. His real father died when he was young and I married Becca while he was still a teenager. I truly do consider him my son, but it has not been easy for him to accept me.” The wizard sighed and eased into the leather cushioned chair opposite Justan.

“Besides, despite the fact that he is seven years older, Benjo has always looked up to Willum and that boy wouldn’t use my name either. He is so headstrong. Willum just wants to accomplish everything on his own, without his father’s name propping him up.”

“I understand that feeling,” Justan said, thinking of his relationship with his own famous father. “Wait, so you are Willum’s father too?”

Coal smiled. “Well, not exactly. You see, I bonded with Willum when he was only four. I happened to be in Dremald on business that day and his parents were to be executed in the public square. They had two men standing there each one grabbing an arm, forcing him to watch. It was a horrible spectacle and I wouldn’t have stayed, except for the pitiful sight of that single child screaming for his parents while the rest of the crowd was yelling and throwing things at them . . .” Master Coal shuddered.

“The moment the headman’s axe came down the second time, ending his mother’s life, I felt the pain of the bond hit me. The little fellow was in so much agony that I couldn’t bear it. I bound the two men guarding him with air, scooped him up, and carried him off and never looked back. Not many people know that we are bonded. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, Willum is just an orphan child that I adopted.”