Abbey of Sarth, which is ten times as large. What’s
the point?”
Leaning forward, Tully said, “The
point is this: say what you will about the Ishapians, but when they
put forth something as history, not lore, they can usually produce
ancient tomes to support their claims.”
“No,” said Kulgan, waving
aside Tully’s comments with a dismissive wave. “I do not
make light of your beliefs, or any other man’s, but I cannot
accept this nonsense about lost arts. I might be willing to believe
Pug could be somehow more attuned to some aspect of magic I’m
ignorant of, perhaps something involving spirit conjuration or
illusion— areas I will happily admit I know little about—but
I cannot accept that he will never learn to master his craft because
the long-vanished god of magic died during the Chaos Wars! No, that
there is unknown lore, I accept. There are too many shortcomings in
our craft even to begin to think our understanding of magic is
remotely complete. But if Pug can’t learn magic, it is only
because I have failed as a teacher.”
Tully now glared at Kulgan, suddenly
aware the magician was not pondering Pug’s possible
shortcomings but his own. “Now you are being foolish. You are a
gifted man, and were I to have been the one to discover Pug’s
talent, I could not imagine a better teacher to place him with than
yourself. But there can be no failing if you do not know what he
needs to be taught.” Kulgan began to sputter an objection, but
Tully cut him off. “No, let me continue. What we lack is
understanding. You seem to forget there have been others like Pug,
wild talents who could not master their gifts, others who failed as
priests and magicians.”
Kulgan puffed on his pipe, his brow
knitted in concentration. Suddenly he began to chuckle, then laugh.
Tully looked sharply at the magician. Kulgan waved offhandedly with
his pipe. “I was just struck by the thought that should a
swineherd fail to teach his son the family calling, he could blame it
upon the demise of the gods of pigs .”
Tully’s eyes went wide at the
near-blasphemous thought, then he too laughed, a short bark. “That’s
one for the moot gospel courts!” Both men laughed a long,
tension-releasing laugh at that Tully sighed and stood up. “Still,
do not close your mind entirely to what I’ve said, Kulgan. It
may be Pug is one of those wild talents. And you may have to
reconcile yourself for letting him go.”
Kulgan shook his head sadly at the
thought. “I refuse to believe there is any simple explanation
for those other failures, Tully. Or for Pug’s difficulties, as
well. The fault was in each man or woman, not in the nature of the
universe. I have often felt where we fail with Pug is in
understanding how to reach him Perhaps I would be well advised to
seek another master for him, place him with one better able to
harness his abilities.”
Tully sighed. “I have spoken my
mind of this question, Kulgan Other than what I’ve said, I
cannot advise you Still, as they say, a poor master’s better
than no master at all. How would the boy have fared if no one had
chosen to teach him?”
Kulgan bolted upright from his seat.
“What did you say?”
“I said, how would the boy have
fared if no one had chosen to teach him?”
Kulgan’s eyes seemed to lose
focus as he stared into space. He began puffing furiously upon his
pipe. After watching for a moment, Tully said, “What is it,
Kulgan?”
Kulgan said, “I’m not sure,
Tully, but you may have given me an idea.”
“What sort of idea?”
Kulgan waved off the question. “I’m
not entirely sure Give me time to ponder. But consider your question,
and ask yourself this: how did the first magicians learn to use their
power?”
Tully sat back down, and both men began
to consider the question in silence. Through the window they could
hear the sound of boys at play, filling the courtyard of the keep.
Every sixthday, the boys and girls who
worked in the castle were
the point?”
Leaning forward, Tully said, “The
point is this: say what you will about the Ishapians, but when they
put forth something as history, not lore, they can usually produce
ancient tomes to support their claims.”
“No,” said Kulgan, waving
aside Tully’s comments with a dismissive wave. “I do not
make light of your beliefs, or any other man’s, but I cannot
accept this nonsense about lost arts. I might be willing to believe
Pug could be somehow more attuned to some aspect of magic I’m
ignorant of, perhaps something involving spirit conjuration or
illusion— areas I will happily admit I know little about—but
I cannot accept that he will never learn to master his craft because
the long-vanished god of magic died during the Chaos Wars! No, that
there is unknown lore, I accept. There are too many shortcomings in
our craft even to begin to think our understanding of magic is
remotely complete. But if Pug can’t learn magic, it is only
because I have failed as a teacher.”
Tully now glared at Kulgan, suddenly
aware the magician was not pondering Pug’s possible
shortcomings but his own. “Now you are being foolish. You are a
gifted man, and were I to have been the one to discover Pug’s
talent, I could not imagine a better teacher to place him with than
yourself. But there can be no failing if you do not know what he
needs to be taught.” Kulgan began to sputter an objection, but
Tully cut him off. “No, let me continue. What we lack is
understanding. You seem to forget there have been others like Pug,
wild talents who could not master their gifts, others who failed as
priests and magicians.”
Kulgan puffed on his pipe, his brow
knitted in concentration. Suddenly he began to chuckle, then laugh.
Tully looked sharply at the magician. Kulgan waved offhandedly with
his pipe. “I was just struck by the thought that should a
swineherd fail to teach his son the family calling, he could blame it
upon the demise of the gods of pigs .”
Tully’s eyes went wide at the
near-blasphemous thought, then he too laughed, a short bark. “That’s
one for the moot gospel courts!” Both men laughed a long,
tension-releasing laugh at that Tully sighed and stood up. “Still,
do not close your mind entirely to what I’ve said, Kulgan. It
may be Pug is one of those wild talents. And you may have to
reconcile yourself for letting him go.”
Kulgan shook his head sadly at the
thought. “I refuse to believe there is any simple explanation
for those other failures, Tully. Or for Pug’s difficulties, as
well. The fault was in each man or woman, not in the nature of the
universe. I have often felt where we fail with Pug is in
understanding how to reach him Perhaps I would be well advised to
seek another master for him, place him with one better able to
harness his abilities.”
Tully sighed. “I have spoken my
mind of this question, Kulgan Other than what I’ve said, I
cannot advise you Still, as they say, a poor master’s better
than no master at all. How would the boy have fared if no one had
chosen to teach him?”
Kulgan bolted upright from his seat.
“What did you say?”
“I said, how would the boy have
fared if no one had chosen to teach him?”
Kulgan’s eyes seemed to lose
focus as he stared into space. He began puffing furiously upon his
pipe. After watching for a moment, Tully said, “What is it,
Kulgan?”
Kulgan said, “I’m not sure,
Tully, but you may have given me an idea.”
“What sort of idea?”
Kulgan waved off the question. “I’m
not entirely sure Give me time to ponder. But consider your question,
and ask yourself this: how did the first magicians learn to use their
power?”
Tully sat back down, and both men began
to consider the question in silence. Through the window they could
hear the sound of boys at play, filling the courtyard of the keep.
Every sixthday, the boys and girls who
worked in the castle were
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