encountered with
Pug any better. There is no simple explanation for it.”
“Have you thought about what the
boy said?” asked the priest, a look of thoughtful concern on
his face.
“You mean about my having been
mistaken?”
Tully nodded. Kulgan dismissed the
question with a wave of his hand “Tully, you know as much about
the nature of magic as I do, perhaps more. Your god is not called the
God Who Brought Order for nothing. Your sect unraveled much about
what orders this universe. Do you for one moment doubt the boy has
talent?”
“Talent, no. But his ability is
the question for the moment.”
“Well put, as usual. Well, then,
have you any ideas? Should we make a cleric out of the boy, perhaps?”
Tully sat back, a disapproving
expression upon his face. “You know the priesthood is a
calling, Kulgan,” he said stiffly.
“Put your back down, Tully. I was
making a joke.” He sighed. “Still, if he hasn’t the
calling of a priest, nor the knack of a magician’s craft, what
can we make of this natural ability of his?”
Tully pondered the question in silence
for a moment, then said, “Have you thought of the lost art?”
Kulgan’s eyes widened. “That
old legend?” Tully nodded. “I doubt there is a magician
alive who at one time or another hasn’t reflected on the legend
of the lost art. If it had existed, it would explain away many of the
shortcomings of our craft.” Then he fixed Tully with a narrowed
eye, showing his disapproval. “But legends are common enough
Turn up any rock on the beach and you’ll find one. I for one
prefer to look for real answers to our shortcomings, not blame them
on ancient superstitions.”
Tully’s expression became stern
and his tone scolding. “We of the temple do not count it
legend, Kulgan! It is considered part of the revealed truth, taught
by the gods to the first men.”
Nettled by Tully’s tone, Kulgan
snapped, “So was the notion the world was flat, until
Rolendirk—a magician, I’ll remind you—sent his
magic sight high enough to disclose the curvature of the horizon,
clearly demonstrating the world to be a sphere! It was a fact known
by almost every sailor and fisherman who’d ever seen a sail
appear upon the horizon before the rest of the ship since the
beginning of time!” His voice rose to a near shout.
Seeing Tully was stung by the reference
to ancient church canon long since abandoned, Kulgan softened his
tone “No disrespect to you, Tully. But don’t try to teach
an old thief to steal. I know your order chops logic with the best of
them, and that half your brother clerics fall into laughing fits when
they hear those deadly serious young acolytes debate theological
issues set aside a century ago. Besides which, isn’t the legend
of the lost art an Ishapian dogma?”
Now it was Tully’s turn to fix
Kulgan with a disapproving eye. With a tone of amused exasperation,
he said, “Your education in religion is still lacking, Kulgan,
despite a somewhat unforgiving insight into the inner workings of my
order.” He smiled a little. “You’re right about the
moot gospel courts, though. Most of us find them so amusing because
we remember how painfully grim we were about them when we were
acolytes.” Then turning serious, he said, “But I am
serious when I say your education is lacking. The Ishapians have some
strange beliefs, it’s true, and they are an insular group, but
they are also the oldest order known and are recognized as the senior
church in questions pertaining to interdenominational differences.”
“Religious wars, you mean,”
said Kulgan with an amused snort.
Tully ignored the comment. “The
Ishapians are caretakers for the oldest lore and history in the
Kingdom, and they have the most extensive library in the Kingdom I
have visited the library at their temple in Krondor, and it is most
impressive.”
Kulgan smiled and with a slight tone of
condescension said, “As have I, Tully, and I have browsed the
shelves at the
Pug any better. There is no simple explanation for it.”
“Have you thought about what the
boy said?” asked the priest, a look of thoughtful concern on
his face.
“You mean about my having been
mistaken?”
Tully nodded. Kulgan dismissed the
question with a wave of his hand “Tully, you know as much about
the nature of magic as I do, perhaps more. Your god is not called the
God Who Brought Order for nothing. Your sect unraveled much about
what orders this universe. Do you for one moment doubt the boy has
talent?”
“Talent, no. But his ability is
the question for the moment.”
“Well put, as usual. Well, then,
have you any ideas? Should we make a cleric out of the boy, perhaps?”
Tully sat back, a disapproving
expression upon his face. “You know the priesthood is a
calling, Kulgan,” he said stiffly.
“Put your back down, Tully. I was
making a joke.” He sighed. “Still, if he hasn’t the
calling of a priest, nor the knack of a magician’s craft, what
can we make of this natural ability of his?”
Tully pondered the question in silence
for a moment, then said, “Have you thought of the lost art?”
Kulgan’s eyes widened. “That
old legend?” Tully nodded. “I doubt there is a magician
alive who at one time or another hasn’t reflected on the legend
of the lost art. If it had existed, it would explain away many of the
shortcomings of our craft.” Then he fixed Tully with a narrowed
eye, showing his disapproval. “But legends are common enough
Turn up any rock on the beach and you’ll find one. I for one
prefer to look for real answers to our shortcomings, not blame them
on ancient superstitions.”
Tully’s expression became stern
and his tone scolding. “We of the temple do not count it
legend, Kulgan! It is considered part of the revealed truth, taught
by the gods to the first men.”
Nettled by Tully’s tone, Kulgan
snapped, “So was the notion the world was flat, until
Rolendirk—a magician, I’ll remind you—sent his
magic sight high enough to disclose the curvature of the horizon,
clearly demonstrating the world to be a sphere! It was a fact known
by almost every sailor and fisherman who’d ever seen a sail
appear upon the horizon before the rest of the ship since the
beginning of time!” His voice rose to a near shout.
Seeing Tully was stung by the reference
to ancient church canon long since abandoned, Kulgan softened his
tone “No disrespect to you, Tully. But don’t try to teach
an old thief to steal. I know your order chops logic with the best of
them, and that half your brother clerics fall into laughing fits when
they hear those deadly serious young acolytes debate theological
issues set aside a century ago. Besides which, isn’t the legend
of the lost art an Ishapian dogma?”
Now it was Tully’s turn to fix
Kulgan with a disapproving eye. With a tone of amused exasperation,
he said, “Your education in religion is still lacking, Kulgan,
despite a somewhat unforgiving insight into the inner workings of my
order.” He smiled a little. “You’re right about the
moot gospel courts, though. Most of us find them so amusing because
we remember how painfully grim we were about them when we were
acolytes.” Then turning serious, he said, “But I am
serious when I say your education is lacking. The Ishapians have some
strange beliefs, it’s true, and they are an insular group, but
they are also the oldest order known and are recognized as the senior
church in questions pertaining to interdenominational differences.”
“Religious wars, you mean,”
said Kulgan with an amused snort.
Tully ignored the comment. “The
Ishapians are caretakers for the oldest lore and history in the
Kingdom, and they have the most extensive library in the Kingdom I
have visited the library at their temple in Krondor, and it is most
impressive.”
Kulgan smiled and with a slight tone of
condescension said, “As have I, Tully, and I have browsed the
shelves at the
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