Ambassador to the Freaks

(11) Old Oak

The wagons rested on the side of the mountain road while the animals lazily grazed. Finally they had stopped moving, and it would be easy for the occupants to sleep.

But no one was asleep. The entertainers and their passengers were outside, gathered close around their wooden guest. Most of them had thrown on a few articles of clothing, but they all had the look of people recently abed. Cory and Leesil, the youngest of them, were not entirely certain they were not still dreaming.

Auren, once she was certain the creature posed no threat to Lewin, had retreated to Lovely Woman and changed into her full mercenary's outfit. She stood guard now with her sword at her belt, looking her best and trying her hardest to make up for her untoward actions earlier that night.

Phreeda approached the dryad and tried to look it in the face, but the creature only had a face in an abstract sense, and its eyes did not noticeably track objects, making it seem almost blind. “Sorry to ask, but could you extend your, um, arm?”

The creature lifted the arm-like branch that had held Lewin earlier. Phreeda guided it out until it was level with the ground. Lewin had never seen her with her hair down. As the troupe’s acrobat, she always kept it tied in case she ever needed to vault or flip over something, which she seemed to find frequent excuses to do. Once the wooden arm was out, she hefted herself off of the ground onto it. The arm barely lowered under her weight. She gave a childlike smile and would have performed a feat or two if she had been wearing more than a nightgown.

Roope laughed his big friendly laugh. “We could use a dryad like you in our act.”

“I am only being still. Yes, I suppose that would impress a human.”

Leesil approached and the dryad held out its other arm. She hung from that limb while Phreeda held herself over the other for as long as she could (which was pretty long). Monsta lay on the ground behind them, staring at this odd creature with unrestrained curiosity.

Lewin was just as curious, but as he started to move closer, Shen’s hand fell on his shoulder and restrained him. The knight stared the creature in its amber eyes. “What were you doing on the road?”

“Waiting.”

“Waiting for what?”

“For the Ob-Enon.”

Shen’s eyes narrowed. “How did you know he would be here?”

“I did not know.” The creature paused. “This road is the easiest path for travelers to flow.”

“How did you know to be here now?”

“I did not.” It paused again, and its words were coming more slowly. “I came here to await your passing.”

“No one knows that we came by this route, and we left hardly a week ago. You expect us to believe your being here is just chance?”

“You misunderstand… I have been waiting… ever since I learned that the Ob-Enon would one day visit us.”

Phreeda was the first to understand what he meant, and her face registered shock as she lowered herself to the ground. “You’ve been waiting for more than ten years?”

“I was… waiting…” The dryad seemed out of breath, which was strange since it did not breathe. “…waiting for longer…”

Lewin shook free of Shen’s grasp and stepped forward. “You need to sleep, don’t you?”

“I can continue, Ob-Enon… I know humans… do not like to wait…”

“Thank you, but we can wait until morning.”

The dryad shut its eyes and was still.

The night was suddenly and strangely silent.

Sandra circled the dryad in curiosity. There was now little sign that it was not simply a tree. “Should we…” She turned to Lewin. “Do we just leave him here?”

“Yes, it should be fine.”

“We should give him a blanket, or at least bring him in the wagons.”

The Ambassador shook his head. “Dryads don’t need warmth or shelter.”

Leesil stared up at the arm from which she had been hanging, and which was still extended. “Is he dead?”

“No, the sun will wake it up again. It was probably exhausting for it even to talk at night.” No one moved. They continued to stare at this tree that had just been talking and moving. Lewin broke the silence by heading back to Lovely Woman, and eventually the rest of the troupe went back as well.

Auren, having been jarred awake and now being fully dressed, did not head back to bed. She returned to the room she shared with Phreeda and hung her sword on the wall next to her lute, which she took down and started to tune. From behind came the sound of her roommate flopping down on the big bed they shared. “The Ambassador’s pretty smart.”

“I guess.” She plucked a few notes and continued tuning. “He knows about everything you can learn from books, for whatever that’s worth.”

The next words were muffled because Phreeda had rolled onto her pillow. “You just don’t like that he was raised in a castle.”

The mercenary had no response. She exited the wagon and the acrobat drifted back to sleep.

Monsta was still outside, gazing at the sleeping dryad. “Need help getting into the wagon, little fry?”

“No.” Her eyes were fixed on the wooden body before her.

“This the first non-human you’ve met?”

“Yes. I feel so strange. Tree-man is drawing me closer…”

Auren left them, but started thinking as she walked along the road. They were both children of water, so maybe there was some connection the nereid could feel. Auren couldn’t say; every child of metal or sky she had encountered had been terrifying.

Up the road a ways was a good vantage point to look out over the valley. She sat there and plucked at the strings absently for a while. This was lovely country. If only it was farther from Mellius’s shadow, she could enjoy living here. Not that she would ever stop traveling.

There was a sound from nearby. Auren turned and saw a silhouette under a nearby tree. She froze. Whoever it was circled the tree and then approached her. Auren loosened her sling as her eyes adjusted to the dark…

It was Shen. The mercenary heaved a sigh of relief as she started to strap the sling back on. She then realized that he must have heard the atonal music she had been playing and turned a little red. “What are you doing out here?”

“I could ask you the same.”

“I am a wind-borne soul who needs no reason to be any place. You, on the other hand, wouldn’t scratch your face without orders to do so.”

The knight did not bother to explain himself as he passed her. He stopped at every tree on that road and gave it a quick inspection. Auren tried to ignore him as she practiced her music.

Warm sunlight caressed the face of the dryad and coaxed open its eyes. Before it was the young Ob-Enon, sitting on a stool and staring back. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Ambassador.”

“How do you feel?”

“I am well. I apologize for growing weary last night.”

“No, it was my fault. I forgot that dryads grow weak without sunlight. Although, you were still somehow strong enough to lift Phreeda.”

“The human girl? She was not so heavy.”

A voice called out from one of the wagons. “Aw, how sweet of you to say that!”

The dryad looked around to see that the wagons were crawling with humans. The smell of animal flesh cooking over fire came from nearby. The humans were going about different tasks, but their eyes were drawn toward the dryad like trees toward the sun.

There was someone missing… then he felt the mermaid. She lay on the ground nearby, her fins brushing against the dryad as she slept.

The Ob-Enon was eager to ask questions. The dryad could tell; the boy’s eyes were fixed on him, and Apple said that a human’s eyes show where their focus is. “Would you like to continue asking questions, Ob-Enon?”

“If you’re ready to continue.”

“I am ready.”

“Had you really waited fourteen years—I mean, fourteen winters, just to see me?”

“It is an honor to meet you. The birth of an Ob-Enon is portentous. Forgive me, but have you not been growing for fifteen winters?”

“Something like that. Not sure exactly when I was born, so I always celebrated my birthday on the same day as Elocyne.”

“That is King Mellius’s daughter? You are the same age as she, though since humans measure age so exactly, I will tell you that you are slightly younger.”

The boy raised the brow above one of his eyes. The dryad did not know this gesture. “How do you know how old I am?”

“The earth pulses with each new life. I was listening, and heard your coming into the world.”

Now the human’s eyes widened. Was he focusing? Human faces are complex, and always changing. “You practice earth magic?”

“All dryads do, but I am a magister. I knew when you were birthed because I have felt a similar sensation before, when Ob-Enon Tsaltin was hatched.”

Again, the Ambassador’s eyes grew wide. Perhaps this gesture meant nothing. “You… how long have… sorry, I’ve been getting ahead of myself. What…”

The dryad could not help but laugh, a deep wooden sound much like creaking. “Is that really a human expression? Do you really move quickly enough to outdistance yourself? I mean no offense, Ob-Enon. I have known dryads who have had to wait for themselves to catch up.”

That made the human smile. That was an expression this dryad knew. “I just meant that I forgot to do something important. I never asked for your name.”

“Apple gave me a name for when I deal with humans. You may call me Old Oak, and though my people have no gender, Apple said that I should act as male.”

“Why is that?”

“She says that it is helpful for humans. If they have to call a creature ‘it’, then they tend to forget that the creature is a being with a spirit. I do not know why this is; animals have gender, but have no more spirit than a stone.”

“Well, ‘it’ is what we call an object without life or spirit. We wouldn’t…” Lewin stopped. He was prepared to say that no human would call another creature ‘it’, that such a word would indicate that someone else is less than a human. But his eye caught the nereid still sleeping at Old Oak’s feet, the girl named Monsta.

Lewin swallowed his words and decided to speak of something else.

“I have read of dryad magisters, but none of my books ever explained what that title means.”

“It means I am old.”

“…is that all it means? In my books it seemed to imply a mastery of magic.”

“Any dryad as old as I has much practice in the magic of earth and water.”

“Can you teach magic?”

“There is no need. We learn the secrets of magic from the earth and rivers themselves, and there are no better teachers.”

“Magic doesn’t come as naturally to humans. Could you teach me?”

Old Oak seemed to recoil a bit. It was the most reaction Lewin had seen from him so far. “I do not mean to insult you, Ob-Enon, but you are a sapling. If we had a few decades, then I would be honored to teach you.”

The Ambassador’s face fell. “Does it really take that long to learn earth magic?”

“Of course.”

“But Auren and Bertram already know some magic.”

Old Oak said nothing for a moment, staring forward with his vacant eyes. “Yes. Yes, I should have listened to Apple. She was correct: humans always hurry. Ambassador, may I see one of your young friends perform magic?”

Lewin called out for Bertram, who was seated on Good Drink’s running board, breakfasting on bread and bacon. He looked up, his mouth full, at the Ambassador’s call. Lewin motioned him to come over and he hurried to his side. “Could you show our guest some magic?”

“Sure. Because it’s him who really wants to see some magic, right Lewin?”

Lewin flashed a guilty grin.

“No problem. Just give me a moment.” He took another bite of his breakfast and stood there before them, chewing. After that he took another bite, and then another, while the dryad and Ambassador watched. It was a long time to go without a word. Bertram put the remainder of the meat in his mouth and ate, not seeming to be in any particular hurry.

“You really that hungry, Bertram?”

Once he had swallowed, the magician responded, “This will help.”

“How?”

“Iron calls to iron.”

Lewin knew that phrase. It was a maxim of metal magic, and the title of the most famous treatise on the subject. The book was expansive, and just as expensive. Castle Joten’s library did not have a copy; few did. It took so long to compose, and every copy had to be reviewed by a master. Any imperfect copies were destroyed, and those that survived were coveted by magicians and thieves.

Bertram tossed the crust of his bread to Lewin, who had not had a chance to eat, though he was too interested right now and the bread went uneaten in his hand. The magician lifted his hand and let it wander in the air. The fingers seemed to be searching. Finally he stopped and all his fingers straightened in the same direction. “That will do. Auren! Can I borrow your sword?”

A few moments later the window of Lovely Woman was thrown open and a sleepy Auren appeared there, mostly obscured by her hair. “Why? You need to kill the jerk who woke me up?”

“A demonstration of metal magic.”

“Don’t you have something metal of your own?”

“Well I would have some coins, but someone didn’t get our advance fee…”

“You know Mellius is a skinflint!” She pulled the window shut. They waited a little longer and her hand emerged from the wagon holding her sheathed weapon. It was nothing too impressive, probably scavenged (or stolen), but it was sharp enough to do its job. Cory, who had been sitting nearby and laughing at the whole exchange, took the weapon and carried it to Bertram. The door quickly shut.

Bertram took the weapon and held it at his left hip. He straightened his right arm and hand into a line. He made a careful angle with his wrist, slowly adjusting the angle back and forth. “Sorry, I’m not very good at this.” Finally finding the ideal angle, he bent his arm toward the sword’s hilt, then made a motion away from it until his hand was pointed into the air.

Lewin barely heard the sound, but then he saw that the sword was unsheathing itself. The hilt and blade crossed in front of Bertram, guided by his invisible hand. Once free of the scabbard, the weapon slowly swung outward until it was pointed in the same direction as Bertram’s arm. It continued to glide parallel to his arm until the hilt was before his hand. He took the sword, though it looked as though he had to strain slightly to arrest its momentum.

Lewin sat open-mouthed.

Old Oak also seemed surprised, though he had more decorum about it. “That is quite impressive at your age.”

“Thank you, but it’s about all I can manage. Any faster and I’d chop off my hand.”

“Have you learned any skills of earth or water?”

“Water, yes. Never had a chance to learn earth magic.”

“Astounding. A sapling with such magic. Please, would you demonstrate?”

He sheathed the weapon and set it down. “Of course.”

Bertram closed his eyes, and so did Old Oak. They stood still, and nothing seemed to happen. Suddenly, Monsta sprung awake, her green eyes wide. She stared at the two of them, her head moving as if she were hearing noises. Then she calmed a bit, and then calmed greatly, so that she seemed to melt onto the ground, where her eyes closed again, though she was not asleep.

Lewin was so anxious that his hand crushed the bread, but he said nothing, and waited.

Old Oak spoke. “Born far away… a bakery… trained by a man named Rendis… another apprentice, who died… an empty purse…”

Bertram nodded. “Yes, especially that last part.”

The dryad paused before continuing. “Dark and deep places in… the moats of Joten. Small fish… bitter plants. Above the water… shouting, boots, weapons. But also… trees… sunlight… brother…”

Monsta blushed and nodded.

Their eyes all opened. “Again, astounding. Also, I find your memories less chaotic than I expected.”

“Human memory is pretty solid, but you’ll find the working mind to be a jumble.”

Old Oak turned his gaze to the mermaid. “You have potential as well, young one.”

She smiled.

“Did she just…?” Lewin stood and hurried over. “Monsta, do you know magic?”

“No! But, but I heard…”

The dryad placed one of his hands on her shoulder, even though she was on the ground; his arm seemed to extend as he needed. “She is a child of water and spirit. Her mind flows to places even mine cannot.”

“Please, I would love for you to teach me.”

“As I said, it would be an honor. I will endeavor to teach you. We may have enough time.”

“I’d be willing to return. Even if it takes years.”

“He doesn’t have years.” Bertram was looking at Old Oak, his expression difficult to read.

“Why not?”

“Because he’s going to die soon.”