The man in the illusion was dark-haired and bearded; bruised and beaten-looking. And if one looked very carefully, it was possible to see that the rags he wore had once been a wizard's robe.
"Gervase didn't stop to wonder about who the man was or why he was being chased; he only knew that no thinking creature should hunt another down like a rabbit with dogs and horses. He ran to the man -- "
The lizard slid down the tree trunk and scampered to the fallen wizard. Now it was possible to see, as he helped the man to his feet, that he was very close to being man-sized himself, certainly the size of a young adolescent. At first the man was plainly too dazed to realize what it was that was helping him, then he came to himself and did a double take. The shock and startlement on his face made the children giggle again -- and not just the children.
" 'Come, human,' Gervase said. 'You must hide in my tree, it's the only place where you can be safe. I will keep the dogs away from you.' The wizard -- for that was what he was -- did not waste any breath in arguing with him, for he could clearly hear the dogs baying on his track."
The lizard half-carried the man to the crevice in the tree; the man crawled inside. Gervase then ran over to a rock in the sun and arranged himself on it, for all the world like an ordinary (if overly-large) lizard basking himself.
"When the dogs came over the hill, with the hunters close behind them, Gervase was ready."
As the dogs and the horses burst through the underbrush, Gervase jumped high in the air, as if startled out of his wits. He dashed back and forth on all fours for a moment, then shot into the crack in the tree. There he remained, with his head sticking out, obviously hissing at the dogs that came to bark and snap at him and the man he was protecting. When one or two got too close, Gervase bit their noses. The dogs yelped and scuttled to the rear of the pack, tails between their legs, while the entire tent roared with laughter.
"Then the man who had been hunting the wizard arrived, and he was not pleased. He had wanted the wizard to serve him; he had waited until the wizard's magics were either exhausted or nullified by his own magicians, then he had taken him prisoner and tortured him. But our wizard had pretended to be unconscious and had escaped into the Pelagirs. The lord was so angry he had escaped that he had taken every hunter and dog he had and pursued him -- but thanks to Gervase, he thought now that he had lost the trail."
The plump and oily man who rode up on a sweating horse bore no small resemblance to Wethes. Tarma smiled at that, as the "lord" whipped off his hounds and laid the crop across the shoulders of his fearful huntsman, all the while turning purple with rage. At length he wrenched his horse's head around, spurring it savagely, and led the lot out of the clearing. Gervase came out of hiding; so did the wizard.
"The wizard was very grateful. 'There is a great deal of magical energy stored in your home,' he said. 'I can grant you nearly anything you want, little friend, if you'll let me use it. What way can I reward you?' Gervase didn't even have to think about it. 'Make me a man like you!' he said, 'I want to be a man like you!' 'Think carefully on what you're asking,' the mage said. 'Do you want to be human, or do you want to be a magician? You have the potential within you to be a great mage, but it will take all the magic of your tree to unlock it, and even then it will take years of study before you can make use of your abilities. Or would you rather have the form of a human? That, too, will take all the magic of your tree. So think carefully, and choose.' "
The little lizard was plainly in a quandary; he twitched and paced, and looked up at the sky and down at the ground for help.
"Gervase had a terrible decision, you see? If he became a human, people would listen to him, but he wouldn't have the magic to do what he wanted to do. But if he chose to have his Gifts unlocked, where would he find someone who would teach the use of them to a lizard? But finally, he chose. 'I will be a mage,' he said, 'and somewhere I will find someone willing to teach me, someone who believes that good inside is more important than the way I look on the outside.' "
The wizard in the vision smiled and raised his hands over Gervase. The tree began to glow brightly; then the glow flowed off the tree and over the little lizard, enveloping him and sinking into him.
" 'You need look no further, little friend,' said the mage, when he'd done. For I myself will teach you, if you wish to be my apprentice.' "
Gervase plainly went half-mad with joy; he danced comically about for a good several minutes, then dashed into the now-dark tree and emerged again with a few belongings tied into a cloth. Together he and the mage trudged down the path and disappeared into the forest. The glowing globe went dark then, and vanished slowly, dissolving like smoke.
"And that is the tale of how Gervase became an apprentice to Cinsley of White Winds. What happened to him after that -- is another tale."
The applause Kethry received was as hearty as ever Tarma had gotten back in the days when her voice was the pride of the Clans.
"Well done," Tarma whispered, when the attentions of those gathered had turned to the next to entertain.
"I was wondering if my doing magic would offend anyone -- " Kethry began, then looked up, suddenly apprehensive, seeing one of the Clansfolk approaching them.
And not just any Shin'a'in, but the Shaman.
The grave and imposing woman was dressed in earthy yellows this evening; she smiled as she approached them, as if she sensed Kethry's apprehension. "Peace, jel'enedra," she said quietly, voice barely audible to the pair of them over the noise of the musicians behind her. "That was well done."
She seated herself on the carpeted floor beside them. "Then -- you didn't mind my working magic?" Kethry replied, tension leaving her.
"Mind? Li'sa'eer! Anything but! Our people seldom see outClan magic. It's well to remind them that it can be benign -- "
"As well as being used to aid the slaughter of an entire Clan?" Tarma finished. "It's well to remind them that it exists, period. It was that forgetfulness that lost Tale'sedrin."
"Hai, you have the right of it. Jel'enedra. I sense a restlessness in you. More, I sense an unhappiness in both you and your oathkin."
"Is it that obvious?" Kethry asked wryly. "I'm sorry if it is."
"Do not apologize; as I said, I sense it in your she'enedra as well."
"Tarma?" Kethry's eyebrows rose in surprise.
"Look, I don't think this is where we should be discussing this," Tarma said uncomfortably.
"Will you come to my tent, then, Kal'enedra; you and your oathsister?" The request was more than half command, and they felt almost compelled to follow her out of the tent, picking their way carefully among the crowded Clansfolk.
Tarma was curious to see what the Shaman's dome-shaped tent looked like within; she was vaguely disappointed to see that it differed very little from her own inside. There was the usual sleeping pad of sheepskins and closely-woven woolen blankets, the mule-boxes containing personal belongings and clothing, two oil-lamps, and bright rugs and hangings in profusion. It was only when Tarma took a closer look at the hangings that she realized that they were something out of the ordinary.