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Chronicle II, Chapter 9 Mind Craft By William Black The young knight followed the torch-lit path back to the hospital tent, but instead of going in, went round to where his horse was tied. The gelding stood as if asleep. Aspen gently patted the horse on the side of the neck; "It's time to go." The horse immediately responded with a quite neigh, nodding his head up and down as if in agreement. The young man laughed at his friend's almost human-like awareness. He untied the charger and led him down the path towards the field where he would face Gardain again in the morning. As he walked he thought back on the days events. He could not blame Morion or Sir David for their doubts of him. He was being very secretive and this would of course cause them to be suspicious. But he wondered whom they distrusted more, Gardain or himself. And what of Morgan. He could still feel her skin brushing up against his own, and the heat of passion there. Was it his own passion he felt, or was there really something within her? She was a passionate woman, but she didn't even know him; at least she didn't realize it yet. Her feelings were most likely reflections of her concern for Sir Robert and nothing more. The young knight tied his steed up to the fence bordering the field. He then climbed over and went and stood in the middle of the list area. He looked up at the clear night sky. The stars were brilliant; their radiance filling his heart with hope and joy. Under this canopy of light he knelt and prayed. "Lord of All, Creator of the universe and all that is in it, I ask you to guide me in the endeavor you have set before me. Let me continue to have authority over the Elementals you have created, and through who's strengths and attributes we have our lives. Let me, with their aid; counteract that which is being done here by Gardain and those he serves. Into Your hands, do I commit my life. Let it be so." He stood and faced north, drawing the sign of the Earth, then turned clockwise to the east he traced the sign of the cross, which is also the symbol of air. Then he turned south and made the sign of fire, and finally to the west he traced the sign of water. "To you, the elements, I give due respect. May you give praise and honor to your creator and be with me in my quest." This he did three times then knelt down again. Just then the knight heard the haunting sounds of a chant. They were coming from the far end of the field near the stables. He pulled his dark hood further over his face becoming one with the night, and moved silently towards the source of the sound. He wanted to reach out with his thoughts hoping to discover what other life forms were about, but because of his honor he obeyed the terms of the contract he had signed. Hmmm... can I blame Morion then? He thought to himself. He was soon close enough to the source of the chanting to make out the edges of a tent. The front flap was open slightly and a red glow streamed out in a narrow line across the grass in front of the tent. Not good light for reading, but excellent for dark castings, red being a color that extenuated the powers of the night. The chanting continued. Aspen knew the words. They were very ancient indeed, their origin lost in the mists of time. However, the old ruins in the northeastern section of this country once held a grand library full of scrolls and books written in the very same language. It was said that the old fortress was the home of great magi who's pride got the better of them. They failed to recognize their own limitations and the allure of the power they were attempting to control. They finally succumbed to the darker side of the power and were disciplined for their errors. The fortress was destroyed by a natural cataclysm and the library all but buried under tons of rubble. A few manuscripts survived some of which Aspen had studied while still a youth under the tutelage of the Arch-druid Morlyn. The young knight crept closer to hear more clearly the contents of the chant. Gardain apparently was unaware of anything else but the ecstasy he was in during his ritual. The words of his meditations sent chills down Aspen's back. The words were invocations to Loki, the god of destruction. But there was something else; the prayers were to Lord Banon himself. Now, why pray to a mere man, if Lord Banon was truly just a man? Then a glint of understanding entered the knight's mind. The events of the past few hours were making sense. The knight retraced his steps back to his horse. Again, instead of ridding, he walked his mount towards the road leading to the palace. He hoped Morion was still awake and would greet him civilly. He also hoped that Sir David was nowhere to be found. There were few people about this late in the evening, and when they saw a black-robed figure approaching, tended to move to the other side of the road. Aspen took a small bit of pleasure in causing their discomfiture. It was very much like the first time he entered into this realm; but back then he was full of love, self-confidence, and a bit of arrogance to boot. Now, his heart was empty, yet he was still driven to fulfill his destiny. He also had his self-confidence, though it was decidedly more mature in nature. As for arrogance, he wondered if he was still perceived this way. Probably especially after refusing to remove his helmet before her ladyship. The palace windows were aflame with light. The towns people called Morion's residence "The Torch", for the brilliance of the light streaking through its many paned windows. As he neared the drawbridge he was challenged by the first set of guards he was to encounter. "Who goes there?" A large guard and his partner stepped out of the shadows directly in front of Aspen. Their swords drawn, glinting dulling in the light from the keep. "My name is unimportant, but my news could save a realm. Let Morion know that I wish to speak with her. And make it quick, she had little time to save those she cares for best." Now that sounded arrogant. The big guard snarled at the smaller robed figure before him, "I ask again, who are you? Tell me or be on your way, for I will not disturb her ladyship without due cause." The other guard stepped closer as if to emphasize the point. "All right. Tell your Lady that Sir Aspen is calling on her. I have news vital to the healing of her knights." The large man looked at the robed figure, then turned to his partner, "Get the Captain, he can make the decisions to let this fellow in to disturb Lady Morion." Aspen let out an exasperated sigh. "The hour grows late and your time is short... Oh, forget it." With that Aspen turned and walked down the path and into the night. He knew his way around the palace gardens, but getting into the palace was a different matter. The urgency of his mission pressed ever harder down on his heart. He had to act quickly to see Morion, for she had to do her part in healing the fallen knights. He hoped that Lady Ann would be willing to help him, though he had his doubts since he had just recently knocked her unconscious. Coming round to the backside of the keep, he entered a garden illumined by flickering torchlight. Light shimmered off the surface of the large pond in the center of the garden. He could hear fish rising to catch insects that came too close to the surface. And it was here, long ago, he had met a wood nymph. She never gave him her name, but she was a most beautiful fairy. She comforted the young knight after Lady Morgan had denied him before Morion's court. It was to this magical place that he brought Lady Ann for safekeeping. He walk along the edge of the pool, keeping his eyes open for the nymph and any other fairy creatures who might be about. He came upon a kneeling stone and sat down waiting for her to appear. Then he heard her. The wood nymph's voice was like the sound of crystalline wind chimes. "Sir William?" she whispered. "Or should I say, Sir Aspen?" She giggled. Will slowly looked around to behold the slender woman sitting next to him. Her eyes were like green fire dancing within her childlike face. Yet the gentle curves of her body were that of a woman in the prime of life. She put her arm through his. "My Lady, you may always call me William, or just Will. It gets rather confusing going by some other name then the one you're born to, but then again, sometimes it is necessary. Like now." Then he grew more serious, "How is your guest doing?" The wood nymph gave him a sly smile, "Filled with dreams and visions." Then in a mischievous tone, "Of you mostly. Seems you have a way with women!" "Yeah, right." His voice edged with bitterness as he remembered Morgan's denial of him. "But enough of this, let's get our guest up. I need her help." The wood nymph led Will into the surrounding woods, expertly navigating through the branches and brush. The night seemed deeper here, and not just because the torch light could not penetrate this far. There were fairy creatures all around. Will sensed their eyes and thoughts focusing on him. Seven years ago none would dare interfere with his work, but now he was bound by a promise not to wield magic. This laid him open to an attack if such creatures were so inclined. Being with the wood nymph, one of their princesses, was probably a good enough deterrent, he thought to himself. They came upon a meadow aglow with fairy baskets. These were filled with fireflies, so many per container that the light from each hardly varied. The lanterns reminded Will of the blue orbs the Druids used to enhance their night ceremonies with a black-light type of effect. The light from the baskets cast a ghostly hue over all the creatures gathered in the clearly. In the middle of these sat Lady Ann. Even though she looked slightly disheveled, Will was again reminded of her beauty and dignity. He truly was sorry for having to kidnap her. He chuckled at the word 'kidnap', for this was no kid that sat before him. Will immediately went over to her, removed the gag from her mouth, and untied her hands and feet. Instead of a volley of expletives, she simply looked up and smiled. "My Lady, I am truly sorry for all this, but I could not let you tell others of my presence here. Please understand, I meant you no harm, but only the safety of my tasks here." She looked at him, her deep blue eyes almost like crystal in the glow of the fairy baskets. "Oh, my Lord... think nothing of it." Her dark red lips turned up in a slight smile. She turned to look at the wood nymph, then with surprising quickness she whipped around smacking the young knight across the cheek, sending him staggering sideways. The sound reverberated through the darkness. "That's for manhandling me, and for causing my best friend so much grief. God, if I had my rapier, you would be dead now." The wood nymph intervened quickly, pinning Ann's arms behind her back. The other fairy creatures all but disappeared into the underbrush. Will stood wide-eyed nursing his cheek. "I am most decidedly glad that you did not have your blade with you. I hope you have relieved your anger against me sufficiently enough to hear what I have to say, but there is little time. Would you come with me?" "Not on your life, buster. I'm going to Lady Morgan, and I hope she slaps you silly." She turned to leave, but Will caught her arm. "Let go of me," she shouted as she slapped at him again. This time Will caught her arm and held it tight against her. His face inches away from hers. "Lady, you had your shot and it was a good one. But now I have a job to do. Those knights of your realm are dying. If I don't get to Lady Morion tonight, they will be dead by mid-day tomorrow. I am asking for your help. Either that, or you can stay here." He paused letting his words and threat sink in. "Well? What will it be?" Ann eyed the meadow. Her gaze fell on the wood nymph that was idly playing with her deep green hair, pretending not to notice the discourse between her and the knight. "Let go of me," Ann spoke quietly, "then I will see if I trust you enough to help you." Immediately the knight released his grip. Lady Ann looked at the young knight, with the curious stare of one who recognizes another, but just cannot for the life of them remember their names. "Your voice is that of Sir Aspen's, but you are Sir William of Annsbury." She said matter-of-factly. "How many names and identities do you go by?" "Enough, I suppose. It is better in the life that I've chosen to not be known to too many people. Now, let's hurry. You have to get me an audience with Lady Morion." "Why do you need my help? You have magic." She gave the knight a sidewise glance. Then as if remembering, "Oh, right. You have been bound by a contract too." As they walked up the path to the back entrance of the palace, Will said, "Yes, I am obligated to fulfill the terms of the contract. At least for the allotted seven-day period, but I actually don't want to use magic. You see, I agree with Lord Banon and Sir Gardain. This realm has become weak because of everybody's reliance on the Dark Crystal to keep them safe. But magic is a poor substitute for the bravery and daring of the people who live here. Ann looked at him as they walked. "I hate to admit it, but I agree with you. I was talking to Morgan about this very thing awhile back. I was wondering if our young people could live outside this realm without relying on magic of one from or another." "Oh, and what did she say?" "She said that I had a point, but didn't elaborate. Funny, but I had the feeling she was thinking of... never mind. We're here." Ann paused and gave the knight a slight smile, then ascended the steps leading to the back entrance. Two guards challenged her way, but then recognizing her, they stepped aside. Will attempted to follow, but they barred his way. "It's okay. He's with me." Ann took Will by the arm and ushered him quickly into the brightly-lit hallway. She led him down the hall, around several corners, and to a small room where there was a sofa, table, and three well-padded chairs. Pictures of Morion and her family hung from one wall. Directly opposite were shelves containing books of all sorts, but particularly on histories of the various lands round about. "Will, wait here, and I will fetch her ladyship. Will listened to Ann's footsteps recede down the hall, but his mind was on what he would say to Morgan when they finally met and she realized that he was not dead after all. He had felt bitter towards her, but that was past. Or was it? Periodic stabs of pain ripped through his heart as he remembered her words, the lies, and then the denial. But what about the love? She did love him once. He wondered if she still did. Now as for Morion, she should have known better then to think him dead. She knew the power of the Dark Crystal; the power Will had borrowed to defeat Dumah. Morion also had a taste of the Druid's abilities and tenacity. Yet he could not blame her either. He had caused her enough trouble in the past by his antics. She probably was relieved to be rid of him... no, that was too harsh. Will brought his musing to an abrupt halt upon hearing voices approaching down the hallway. "What do you mean the Druid Knight is alive?! Impossible!" Will recognized Sir David's voice. "Are you sure it is not a trick? You did leave a guard with him?" It was Morion's voice. "No, I didn't think it necessary to put a guard on the Champion of the Realm! Just come and see." Ann led her Mistress and Sir David into the sitting room. Morion stopped in her tracks as she caught sight of William. Sir David too seemed taken aback. "Sir, forgive the prolonged gaze, but you are both familiar and unknown to me." Morion took a tentative step forward, "You're younger then the first time we met, but that is not possible." Sir David stepped up to Will, but spoke to Morion, "It is Druid magic my Lady, this man smells of it." The harshness of his face suddenly melted into a huge grin, "William, you old dog! Or should I say Druid! How in the hell did you survive Dumah! Come, sit and tell us your tale. By God, everyone will be surprised; especially Morgan. By God!" "Would you shut up and let the man speak," Morion nudged her First knight in the ribs. "Please, Sir William, sit and tell us your news, for Lady Ann says you have a way to heal my knights." "No, my Lady, I can't heal them, yet you can. We have no time to waste." Will took Morion by the hand and led the way to the front entrance of the palace. As they walked Will tried to explain, "Lady Morion, your knights have been poisoned. Ambros is treating them the best possible way he knows how, but more then simple herbal remedies need to be applied to your knights' failing bodies." As they exited out the front, the two guards who had originally challenged Will's entrance snapped to attention. Will smiled as he felt their quizzical glances. But this was no time to relish his mild revenge. He held firm to Morion's hand, only once lightening his grip. To his surprise, she didn't loosen hers. "My Lady, sorcery has been done during this festival, but it will be hard to prove. Our best bet is to counter this magic by practicing common everyday remedies." "Then why do you need me?" Morion looked at him out of the corner of her eyes. "You'll see. But you must believe in what I tell you. If you are not convinced, then all is lost." Sir David was keeping pace with them. "Stop talking in circles. How can Lady Morion help without her magic?" "Be patient. We're almost there." The lights of the hospital tent and Morgan's tent came into view near the end of the path. "Morion, first we will visit your knights at the hospital tent. You won't be needed for the healing of Sir Robert. You'll understand why in just a moment." Upon entering the tent, they were greeted by Ambros and another man Will did not recognize. "Sir Aspen, we are doing what you prescribed, but quite frankly I don't see any improvement." Then he remembered himself, "Oh, this is Doctor Laroux, my chief herbalist. Will extended his hand and shook the herbalist's hand. The man had the callused hands of a gardener, and the tint of his skin proved his prolonged exposure to the sun. "I am glad you are here. Tell me what you think of all this." Laroux glanced over at the men lying on their beds, "I have never seen anything so strange as this. The remedies we are trying should have these men leaping about their beds and this room, but I see little change. It is almost as if they have given up all hope." The Druid stood appraising him, then with a sad grin he turned to Morion and said, "Laroux has given you the answer. These men are really killing themselves. The poison weakened their bodies, but it was not enough to kill them. No, their own belief that they failed you, their families, and this realm has turned the natural healing processes into a deadly degeneration of who they are. They believe they cannot live without magic, and it is eating them alive. Ambros shook his head, "How is that possible? Just because Sir Gardain made them sign a stupid little contract, that in and of itself cannot turn their psyches against them. Surely not! This poison must be of such an exotic nature that it is causing degeneration of the bodies tissues at a very rapid rate." "Spoken like a true scientist," said David bitterly. Will stood his ground, "You don't seem to understand. True, these men have been drugged and poisoned, but the real poison is in their minds. You see, Gardain used 'mind-craft', a form of sorcery in which the practitioner plants a seed of doubt or worry in the victim's mind. Then adds the catalyst to make sure the true poison takes effect. Each knight had a different combination of poison and drugs relating to the type of vice they have. For example, Sir Gweyn doesn't want to admit he is getting old, thus the idea and drug combined to cause rapid aging." "And Sir Robert???" "Huh, yes. Sir Robert's vice is pride. Go take a look at him. Once vibrant, he is now almost a skeleton." Then Will looked at Morion, "Tell me Lady, of all your knights, which ones were either not brought up in this realm or who have not lived most of their lives under the influence of the Dark Crystal?" Morion stood for a moment, deep in thought, then said, "All these knights before you were brought up here or lived most of their lives here. All except Sir David, and you of course." "And tell me," Will went on to press his point, "of all these knights, which of them has had formal training in the magic arts?" "None, save you and David." "Now do you start to see? Gardain feared Sir David, for he had formal training and could not be influenced by mind-craft. And as for me, Gardain didn't know who I was." "By the Elements, I believe him. Sir William has diagnosed the problem. But is it too late to apply the solution?" Sir David looked around at those before him. "I mean, just look at them." William grinned, "You still don't understand the power of mind-craft. The remedy has already been administered. All these fine knights have heard our words. They now know the truth." Then he gently put his arm around Morion, "My Lady, if you can stay awake, it would be good for you to speak to them both as a group and individually throughout the rest of the night, until morning comes. Encourage them. Let them know of your faith in them. Do what you do best, inspire! "But what of Sir Robert. You said I wouldn't be needed there." Morion looked up at Will. "Sir Robert is Lady Morgan's responsibility. His ultimate healing is in her hands. But I have a promise to keep." Will let go of Morion's waste and turned to Ambros, "May I borrow Doctor Laroux for awhile?" "He is at your disposal." Will started out of the tent, "Sir David, I would like your help too." David looked to Morion, then followed the young knight out into the night. To both men Will said, "Sir Robert's healing will be more difficult than the others." "Why is that?" David said startled. "Robert was in fine shape, he should recover quickly." "No, I am afraid it is not that easy. See, it was not in magic that he believed. It was in himself. He failed himself, and Morgan. The matter is made worse because at one time, Morgan loved me.' "Perhaps she still does," Laroux offered. Will hoped his smile didn't show in the darkness, "I would hope so, but the fact of the matter is that Morgan lied to him about me. He knew the lies, but loved her anyway. His self-confidence is not what it seems; it is a shadow. He had to have what he thought was all her love. He wouldn't accept that she possibly could love or be close friends with any other man. It shattered his identity. So he tried to make up for it in various ways, and failed in what he thought was the most important; being the champion of this realm." As they came upon Sir Robert's tent, Will caught Sir David by the arm. "Because of my history with Morgan, it would be wise to have guards posted both within and without the tent." "But why? You are a Knight of the Realm!" "Because, should he die, suspicion will be placed on me, the "rival" suitor of Lady Morgan's hand. I don't mind being accused of things I am guilty of, but murder is the furthest thing from my heart and mind." William then said in a serious tone, "Please humor me and get Tactus to assign a detachment of guards to this tent." "It is good as done," Sir David said as he turned back for the barracks. "Be back soon." "Doctor, you will be my witness throughout this night, that I have done all I can to heal Sir Robert." "Yes, my Lord," Laroux entered the tent behind William. The young knight went over to Sir Robert's bed. There was a small stool sitting by the table, which Will pulled up near the fallen knight's bed. The sick man didn't stir. "Sir Robert, you remember me? I am Sir William of Annsbury, the one known as the Druid knight. Remember? Robert's eyes barely flickered, but it was enough for Will to begin, "I am going to tell you what I told your comrades. I want you to listen very carefully." Laroux watched in silence as the Druid recounted his tale of mind-craft and Druid lore. William Black © Continues... Chronicle II, Main page |