The Tome of Law Collection

Chapter 2-3

“It has been my extreme displeasure to come find you. So now you will no longer ignore us, and take your places in the great hall. Follow me!”

Cyarda, known by many to be a fool with some talent, had been an able administrator in the guild when he was younger, but for the past thirty years had grown old with most of the other members. Keldron suppressed a smirk. Most of the laws were that old, but who could change them with so much conservative opposition. If they hadn"t seen the barges on Lake Eskebeth, most of the order would refuse to believe that anything could float on water. The old man became a picture of motion, albeit, a rather slow motion as he moved towards the door, gazing a little too intently at the decor of the room. A smile slowly spread across his face as he paused and gazed at some particularly rare liquor that Belyn had been saving. Shuffling slowly in to the maze of halls that lead back to the main set of rooms, Cyarda forced the younger guildsmen to follow him at his pace. At one point he stopped and produced a chipped and cracked marble egg.

“I have got them and am returning,” he announced at length, and then as if he had been told something amusing continued to chuckle as he shuffled for quite a while.

Keldron confirmed to himself what he had noticed over the years: that some elders were so arch-conservative that they believed only one focus stone would ever work for them, so they never changed them. He recollected the time he had chosen the guild as an apprentice. They had seemed so welcoming and full of life then. It only took a short while for him to realise that this was a dead end career, and those above him were resistant to any humour, any sign of individuality. Those traits were frowned upon and quashed by constant peer pressure to conform. But deep down he had locked himself away, and as a beginning he had formed a pact with his two companions; to never become an elder as they saw them. He knew it would take time, but eventually they would leave and be able to prosper using the skills they had learned. It seemed this time had drawn very near but the elders did not know that they were playing right in to his hands. He would travel wherever they told him, but he would first go through the forest of Merdon and speak with the traders. He knew a few and they would lead him to those who could help him. This wasn"t a punishment as the guild thought; this was an opportunity.

At points, the old man stopped and frowned his ancient brow in concentration. Instinct told Keldron that he was creating a psychic map, one of the many techniques that the baser stone could accomplish. As with most of the baser stone techniques, it was not offensive. It was very useful though, and Belyn had used it to map the entire building. It was obvious that the guild was prepared to make use of their rooms, or at least Cyarda planned to. At length, after the longest short journey any of the three had ever undertaken, they reached the main hall of the order. The great doors were shut. This was most unusual. Voices raised in debate made muffled echoes in the empty corridors. The dust here was minimal, but enough could be seen to show that a great many people had recently passed by.

The age worn tiles, with depressions marking the years of a***e even seemed that more marked. The old man turned and glared at them.

“You will wait here,” he seemed to mumble, and then with the aid of his stick, he shuffled off through a side door. As he passed through, the words "Not be expelled" burst through.

“If I"m not mistaken, that was the voice of our friend and mentor Obrett Pedern,” Keldron observed. Belyn raised an eyebrow in query. The question was obvious. It was Raoul who voiced it.

“Why was he talking about expelling? Maybe they have actually stirred themselves to the point they have researched some of the Law they so preciously guard.”

The others looked at him.

“If enough members of the guild object to the membership of someone, they can be expelled. It has rarely been used. Rumours have it that the only other one to research the stones was expelled in such a way. However, no one will admit to having ever been at such a meeting.” Raoul shuddered. In a voice seldom used, one of potential defeat he added, “I could not live with myself if I was expelled. The Law is my life, and I do not know what I would do without it.”

Belyn clapped him on the back in a reassuring fashion. “Well my friend, we are still of the order as of now, and we will try to stay that way, come what may on the other side of the doors.”

They waited outside whilst the debate went on. Keldron assumed it was for one of two reasons: those being that either they were just not important enough to be admitted at this time, or the elders were purposefully trying to intimidate them. He reasoned that one was as good as the other. They were in no position of power mainly because they were young by a good thirty years, and it was the spiteful nature of the elders to do something like this. Eventually, locks began to click on the other side of the doors; signs that they were going to be let in. It was at this point Keldron had an idea. He motioned for his two companions to bend close and said in a low whisper, “When we go in there, keep close to me and let me do the talking.”

“What have you got planned for us old friend?” asked Belyn with mirth in his voice. He knew Keldron well enough to figure that something was up.

“Trust me” replied Keldron with a hint of something in his voice. Raoul groaned.

“What?” enquired Belyn.

“It"s at these points where something usually goes disastrously wrong!” his friend replied.

The massive oak doors opened to reveal a room steeped in history. The beams supporting the roof merged into huge columns of stone that were buttressed at floor level. In between these were set alcoves where elder members of the order sat. On either side of the huge room were depictions of previous leaders of the order; many of these were great men. In Keldron"s eyes they cast a shadow over the old men present today. Many were not worth the company they sat in. Great chandeliers hung up the great aisle that spilt the two rows of benches where the majority of the order were seated, many looking thoroughly bored. The chandeliers glowed with light created by the focus stones. Not a good strong flame like the product of Belyn"s experiments with the dense iron rock, but a sickly pale light as only the baser marble could produce.

The three younger wizards strode purposefully to the focus point of the room, a huge monstrosity of stone and wood upon which the eldest members of the Order presided; Belyn and Raoul took their cue from Keldron and stayed abreast of him, one on either side. They reached the dais and knelt on the first step, in the Order"s ritual of greeting. Standing again, the three were greeted by the steady gaze of Caldar, the eldest and administrator of the Order.

“Keldron Vass, Raoul Za, Belyn Stroddick. You have been summoned here today to hear the decree of the Forum of elders. The decree states that you will travel henceforth, and with no delay, to the distant Isle of Caighgard. There you will go about such repairs and maintenance as will keep the ancient temple in a decent state until such time that it is repaired, or one of your number joins High Jettiba.”

Keldron knew that meant only one thing; with one directive issued in the monotonous voice, the feeble administrator had exiled them for life. Unusual, but not surprising considering Belyn had told them these hours ago. He cleared his throat, indicating to the old man that he wished to speak.

“Go ahead. Speak.” The old man almost snapped in reply. Keldron stepped up onto the dais, then broke all protocol and turned to face the guild.

“Brothers” he announced whilst slowly adjusting his brown, unassuming tunic, then indicated his two companions. “We are proud to have been chosen for this most Holy of tasks. We have considered it for many years and have passed our wishes to the Forum whenever possible. It pleases us greatly that at long last, our wish may be driven to fulfilment. We will go unto this place with the utmost speed and we shall restore it. And when we do, we shall send for you. The original temple is our heritage from which the Law sprang, and it shall flow across the world from it again! Brothers, let us rejoice! For the time is near when we shall sit atop the mighty battlements and remember that the Law flows from us! And the people will respect the Law!”

Keldron spoke directly to the heart of each of the men present. Their dream, no matter how little they believed in it now, was originally for people to respect the Law laid down by the first people, and Keldron and his two companions seemed to offer a dream come true. Those that tended to drift off to sleep stuttered awake when the rest cheered. Once explained what had been said, they croaked an agreement in voices long underused in the effervescence of energy that was a debate of Law. The only member of the audience to keep quiet was Obrett Pedern. He was originally the tutor of the three when they were apprentices, and he had taught them to be different whilst appearing to conform to the politics of the order himself. He sat there with a small smile on his face, looking at his protégés. Behind them, the eldest of the men sat there spluttering. This had not been what was meant for the three upstarts. Caldar himself was rigid with fury, veins throbbing at his temples, providing a counter beat to the throb of applause coming from the gathered mass. He watched with a calculating look in his eye as the three left the dais and walked down the centre of his room whilst the congregation broke up.

As they managed to escape the main hall ahead of the tumultuous crowd, Raoul muttered under his breath, “Kel, I know I am all for the Law of old being reinstated, but I don"t think we are going to accomplish much with this lot looking for a miracle.”

Keldron grinned at his friend. “Do you not see what has happened in there? That lot are so shaken up at what I said that they will be looking into the old Law for months, even years, and pestering Old Caldie for years to come! By the time he regains enough control to carry out whatever plans he seemed to have lain, we will be completely lost from him. He will not know where to start looking.”

“Plus,” added Belyn, “I have a few of my newer tricks that will aid us.”

“Oh? And what would they be?” Enquired a strict sounding voice from around a corner. Obrett seemed to materialise from the shadows. One who looked relatively youthful despite his age, Obrett stood by his principles. Unfortunately, one of those principles was gaining information through any means possible. But he cut his former pupils a little more slack than most of the order.