Let’s Be Reasonable
by Jared Buck
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Table of Contents parts 1, 2, 3 |
part 2
The baron was portly, a head taller than me. He looked about my age, though his hair was all silver save a few strands of black here and there. He had heavy jowls hanging down from his cheeks, and second and third chins hid his neck. He wore long, richly embroidered robes. A gilded duelling sword, which seemed too dainty to be of use for anything other than skewering roasted meat, hung from his waist.
“Well, wizard,” he said without preamble, “I have heard rumors that my son was seen entering your house early this morning. I’ll have you know that I have no taste for wizards and do not want my son associating with the likes of you. Now tell me, is he here?” He glanced at my shoulder as Hoot alighted on it and scowled as though Hoot were some foul imp.
“First of all,” I said with a smile, “I am a sorcerer, not a wizard. We sorcerers consider that to be a distasteful term.”
“I am here to find my son, not argue semantics.”
“Ah, but semantics are important, are they not, my lord?”
Baron Collaran waved his hand dismissively and frowned. “I did not come here to debate you, sorcerer,” he said. “I am here to warn you. Stay away from my son.”
Baron Collaran looked about the room. His eyes stopped on my bookcase, and I dug my fingernails into my palms, praying to the gods he wouldn’t notice one was a mirror image of the other. He walked over to the bookcases and perused the volumes lazily. Luckily, he chose the true bookcase. Even so, my palms became sweaty.
“So many old tomes here,” he said. “Tozereth’s Alchemy, The Greater Key of Oronore, The Paramenon...” He clicked his teeth and turned round to face me. “You must have spent years studying all of these,” he said, looking me straight in the eyes.
“Decades, my lord. Most of my life since boyhood.”
“I see,” he said. He glanced back at the books. “I once had a fascination with magic and the occult. As a boy, I could not get enough of it, and my late father indulged me. I even fancied I might become a great sorcerer one day...” He chuckled under his breath.
“What changed your mind, my lord?”
He glared at me. “I discovered the dangers of it all. There are some things mortals should not delve into, Master Velmore. If the gods wanted us to know these secrets, they would not be secrets.”
“What of the secrets of nature? Should we not investigate those? Give up medicine? The study of the stars and planets? Perhaps we ought to live in caves and live on whatever game we can hunt.”
The baron was not impressed with my riposte. “Perhaps we should. In any case, I want my son to have no part of it. I will say no more except this, Master Velmore: if my son does come to you, turn him away. Go against me, and you shall find out what I am capable of.”
With that the baron left, and his guards with him.
I watched the baron leave my property from the window. Once he was out of sight, I lifted the illusion hiding Benran.
Benran was pale, his eyes wide. “What are we to do, Velmore?” he asked, his voice trembling. “You heard what my father said. You heard him!”
“Calm yourself, lad. We are committed. Besides, you have only to look at yourself in a mirror to see there is but one choice. Now, let’s head to Krilda’s before any more time is wasted.”
* * *
I coaxed Benran into exchanging outfits with some of Orty’s clothes and convinced him to leave his sword behind. It was broad daylight now, and it would not do for him to be recognized by one of the townspeople. The people of Xim-on-the-Orno are the most notorious of gossips, and word would have certainly gotten around to his father.
We made good time and within a few hours reached Maerkier’s Wood and, in about another hour, found our way to Krilda’s house. It was at the end of a twisting path overgrown in some places and flanked by thickets. The path was so narrow that we were forced to leave our horses at the head of the trail and continue on foot.
Krilda’s house was not what I expected it to be; I had expected a dilapidated hovel, barely habitable. But there was no rotting wood, nor was it in ill repair; to the contrary, it seemed quite a nice little cottage. Smoke plumed from its simple wooden chimney, so at least we had found her at home.
Benran picked up his pace as he trotted towards the house, but I grabbed his arm to stop him. He turned, seeing red. “What are you doing?” he demanded.
“You wait here with Orty,” I said. “It’s best if I handle this, one magician to another. Besides, she is angry with you, so what good would come of you talking to her?”
He nodded, but did not seem pleased. “And what do you mean to do, Master Velmore?”
I shrugged. “It’s simple. I shall reason with her.”
As I approached her open door, she came out to meet me, her lips curved into a wicked smile that almost seemed more like a frown; it was an angry smile, and it complemented her furrowed brow and piercing eyes.
“So, Velmore,” she said, neglecting the courtesy of my honorific, “you’ve made your way here to see humble old Krilda at last. How kind of you.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “You knew I was coming?”
Krilda sniggered. “Old Krilda sees things in the flames, Velmore. And old Krilda sees things in entrails, in flocks of birds flying overhead. And old Krilda hears whispers on the winds as well. There’s precious little that gets by her.”
“Well then,” I said, suddenly unsure of how to continue, “I presume you know why I am here...”
She took a few steps closer to me, walking with a gnarled old cane she did not seem to really need; I wondered if it might be more than a simple cane...
Her wicked smile changed into a twisted grin. “You’ve come here on behalf of that whelp over there, the one who has no respect for his elders, who thinks he’s better than old Krilda because his ancestors killed enough people and stole enough land to make themselves rich. Well, old Krilda doesn’t like arrogant people! Oh, no she doesn’t.”
“Still, Krilda, that’s no reason to—”
She suddenly became furious. “Do you know what he called me, Velmore? Do you? Did he tell you, or was he too craven to admit it?”
“He did not. But I don’t think that is important.”
“But it is important! It’s essential! Impudence must be punished! People should show respect, even to aged witches who live in the woods.”
I sighed. This would not be over and done with quickly. “Let’s be reasonable, Krilda.” I clasped my hands behind my back and began to pace, which aided my thinking. “I agree with you well enough about respect. Of course, people should respect each other, especially their elders. And there should be consequences for showing disrespect. But should not the punishment fit the crime? Be reasonable, Krilda: can you not see that, in your zeal, you went a bit too far?”
“A bit!” shouted Benran. He pulled off his mask and pointed at his face. “You call this a bit?”
I shot him an angry glare, which silenced him at once. I should have left him back with the horses, where he would have been out of hearing distance.
“Ah, see Velmore?” crooned Krilda, sidling up to me. “He still hasn’t learned. Such a shame, too, what with his wedding only a couple of days away.” She laughed.
“How do you know that?” demanded Benran. He took a step forward, but Orty held onto him. I was certainly glad Benran’s sword was back at my house. “Unhand me, you slobbering fool! I have noble blood! It’s an offense to touch my person!”
Krilda shook her head. “See, Velmore? Even with this spell, the lad hasn’t learned.”
“That’s what you want, for him to learn his lesson? You want an apology?”
“Fine. I’m sorry!” shouted Benran. “Will you undo this now?”
“Benran! Silence!” I looked to Orty. “Orty, take him back to the horses. He’s only going to make things worse.”
“Yes, master,” said Orty. He immediately pulled Benran back towards the horses. Benran made a fuss, but he was no match for Orty, who had wiry strength, though one wouldn’t know it from his looks.
“Now, Krilda, can we find a way to end this?”
“When he’s learned his lesson, perhaps old Krilda will think about it.”
I’d had enough. I don’t know what I had expected from her, but I hadn’t expected her to be this stubborn. Certainly, Benran hadn’t helped the situation. “Can’t you just be reasonable, Krilda! What Benran and his friends did was wrong, but it was no great crime. You must be able to see what you did was equally wrong, worse, even.”
That finally riled her up. “Oh? It seems you need a lesson, too, sorcerer! How haughty are you to think you can simply march up to old Krilda’s house and make demands of her? Now, begone! Old Krilda has had enough of this.”
With that, she turned and went back into her house and slammed the door shut. I heard a crossbar fall down across the door, locking it. I realized that I must find another way to help Benran. But as my colleague had said, there was no other way!
* * *
“What did you call her to upset her so?” I asked Benran on the way back to town. We had ridden about halfway back by the time I asked, as I wanted to allow time for both myself and Benran to calm down. We had ridden in gloomy silence up to that point.
“Does it matter?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual. The vigor had gone out of it, replaced by resignation. “It seems like I’m going to be stuck like this for the rest of my life.”
“I think it does matter. Now, tell me please, Benran. What did you call her?”
He was silent for a spell. He ground his teeth before at last he spoke. He mumbled the epithet, barely audible above his horse’s sudden neigh.
“Pardon me, Benran. I didn’t quite make that out.”
Shamefacedly, he repeated himself.
“Gods!” exclaimed Orty. “I wouldn’t dream of saying that to anyone, even someone I truly hated!”
Indeed, the epithet was so horrid, I would not dare to repeat it myself. Shamed as he was, though, Benran’s pride got the better of him.
“Well, perhaps I used too strong a word, but she wasn’t all innocent herself, you know!”
I shook my head. “Even so, Benran, even so...”
* * *
When we arrived back at my house, it was well-nigh dusk and the sky over Xim-on-the-Orno had a yellow-orange glow. All three of us were tired, so I asked Orty to prepare us something simple for dinner and to have some hot wine ready after he had tended to the horses.
While Orty took the horses to the stable, Benran and I walked to the front door. Immediately, I noticed that something was amiss: the front door was ever so slightly ajar, and the window to the left of the door was wide open. Benran and I looked at each other.
“It seems a visitor has let himself in,” I said. Benran reached down for his sword, but then remembered it wasn’t there; it was inside, upstairs where he had left it before setting out for Krilda’s.
“Father,” he said. “Or, more likely his men. They may mean you harm, Velmore.”
“I don’t think your father would have me murdered because you consulted me. Even a baron would find himself in some trouble over that.”
“I don’t think he’d kill you. But he could—”
“Whatever he might or might not do, we may as well go in and find out. I’m sure they’ve already seen us, so putting it off will do us no good.”
I didn’t think Baron Collaran would try to kill me, but I had a few spells in mind just in case. Cautiously, we entered the house.
Benran went in first. The door creaked as he gently pushed it open and peered about the room.
“Hello?” he whispered. “Anyone here?”
“You needn’t whisper, lad,” I said and pushed past him. “If there is someone here, show yourself. You are trespassing upon my property.”
No answer.
“Well, it could be Orty simply forgot to close the door properly. I’ll speak to him about it when—”
There was a loud clang and Benran screamed. I spun around to see a young woman in a fine, richly embroidered green dress, pounding upon his head with a large, iron pan. Her hair was auburn, almost the same shade as Benran’s fur.
“What have you done with my Benran? Murderer! Killer! Demon!”
She continued to whack him, striking him on the head, then hitting his hands when he tried to block her strikes. She smacked him on the back when he turned around to try to flee. Before I could say “boo,” she was chasing him around the room.
“Madam,” I said. “Madam! That is Benran you’re hitting. He’s been bewitched!”
She stopped long enough to look at me. Then she looked back to Benran. “Oh, you’d really like me to believe that, wouldn’t you?” She held the frying pan up with two hands, as though it were a broadsword. “You think I’m some silly young girl who’ll believe anything you say just because you’re a wizard.”
“A sorcerer, actually,” I replied. “You must believe me, madam. That is Benran; a witch placed a curse on him.”
Benran opened his mouth to speak, but the girl spoke first. “Oh, Benran’s father told me all about it. He told me people saw him sneaking over here early in the morning. And more people saw you and two other men leaving town soon after Baron Collaran left here. One was some ugly slobbering fool and the other was masked, just like this one here. What’s more, I found my Benran’s clothes and sword upstairs! Just what have you done with him, wizard? Killed him in some dark ritual?”
“Nothing of the sort,” I said. “If you will let me explain—”
“Listen to me, Thandy,” Benran said at last. “It really is me.” Before I could stop him, he pulled off his mask.
Thandy screamed, a sharp piercing screech. She stumbled back and for a moment I thought she was going to faint. Instead, she righted her footing and then lunged at Benran with the frying pan.
“Monster! Liar! You’ve killed him! You’ve killed my Benran, haven’t you! You’ve eaten him, haven’t you?”
I ran towards her and tried to restrain her, but I received only a blow to the head for my trouble. I stumbled back and bumped into Benran. We both fell over. Thandy ran at us and leaped upon Benran. She raised the frying pan high above her head and was ready to strike.
“Thandy, wait! I can prove that it’s really me!”
She hesitated. Then she lowered the frying pan slightly, but she could still bring it down on his head at any moment.
“Well, go on then. Prove you’re really him.”
Benran gritted his teeth and rolled his eyes, wracking his brain for something to convince her.
“Well? I’m waiting,” said Thandy impatiently.
Suddenly, something came to him. “Do you... remember that time by the lake?”
Thandy frowned. “Which one? You’ll have to do better than that.”
Benran pointed to her wrist. “That silver bracelet. I gave it to you that night.”
Thandy’s eyes widened. She dropped the frying pan and embraced him. “It is you,” she cried. “Oh, my Benran! It really is you!”
Tears rolled down her cheeks as she squeezed Benran, whose arms she pinned down by his sides in her amorous fervor. At last, she let him go and turned back to me. “Master Velmore, is there nothing you can do?”
I sighed. “I’m afraid not, Thandy,” I said. “It has to do with the nature of the curse Krilda put on him; only she can undo it.”
Thandy scowled. “Well, what are we waiting for then? Let’s go to her at once.”
“We already have, Thandy,” said Benran sadly. “She wouldn’t listen, and I fear we only made things worse with our visit. I was too hot-headed, as usual.”
“We must, Benran! The wedding is only two days away. If my father saw you like this...”
“Let’s calm ourselves,” I said. “We have to go see Krilda again; it’s the only way. But we must have a plan. We need to think of how we can reason with her. We need to know what she wants.”
Thandy laughed. “Oh, Master Velmore! It’s obvious you’ve never been married. You think just like a typical man. The solution is quite obvious.”
Benran and I looked at her expectantly. “Enlighten me,” I said finally.
“I shall go with you this time,” Thandy said with her hands on her hips as if in triumph. “Isn’t it clear? You need a woman’s touch, Velmore. I will talk to Krilda, woman-to-woman.”
Benran looked puzzled. “Woman... to woman?”
“Yes, my love. She is a woman, isn’t she?”
“Well... I suppose, yes. But she’s so—”
“Old? Ugly? Does that matter? She’s still a woman, even if she is an old witch. That makes no difference. Let me talk to her; I’m sure I can make her see things my way.”
* * *
Copyright © 2025 by Jared Buck
