comes to finding a warm place to put his great sword. Otherwise, he’s just as stupid as the rest of us.”
“The rest of us except Uncle Jimmy.”
“Right,” agreed Borric. “My point exactly. He’s had his share, we both know that. But he’s always kept them at a distance and never made stupid promises. It’s like … he never found something he was looking for. Now he meets this woman and …” He paused, at a loss for words.
“Like magic.”
“Exactly!” said Borric. “And what better place to find magic than an island of magicians?”
Erland put a restraining hand on Borric as his brother started to walk again. “You think this is some sort of spell? An enchantment?”
“Ah, a very special enchantment,” said a gravelly voice from the dark.
Both brothers turned to see a stout figure sitting upon a tree stump not ten feet away. Because the man had been motionless, he had remained unseen in the gloom until he spoke. Coming closer, the young Princes saw the speaker was the old magician, Kulgan.
“What do you mean?” asked Borric, as if his suspicions had been confirmed.
Kulgan laughed. He stuck out his hand for a moment, then waved it impatiently. “Well, just don’t stand there. Give an old man some help. My knees are older than creation!”
Erland assisted the old magician as Kulgan pulled himself upright, one hand in Erland’s, the other on a large wooden staff. The magician continued, “I’ll walk with you to the ferry landing. I assume you’re going across to find some trouble. Boys your age always are interested in trouble.”
“The enchantment?” said Borric impatiently.
The old man laughed. “You know, when your grandfather Borric was a little older than you, he was just as unwilling to wait. When he wanted an answer, he wanted it right now, by damn. It took a lot of years for him to get over that. Your father has the same flaw, but he hides it better. Arutha always was among the best I’ve known for recognizing limits.”
Erland said, “He has that knack, except when it comes to us.”
Kulgan fixed both brothers with a baleful gaze. “Limits? What do you spoiled children know of limits? Oh, maybe you’ve had to use your swords now and again, but limits?” He halted for a moment and leaned upon the staff. Tapping his head with one finger, he said, “This. Your brain. When you bring all your faculties to bear on a problem, try every conceivable solution in your mind, and still have no solution, then you’ll understand what limits I’m talking about.”
“Father always said you were one of his most demanding teachers,” said Erland with a grin.
“Ha!” snorted Kulgan. “Now Father Tully, there was an exacting taskmaster.” His eyes looked off in the distance, reflecting for a moment, then he continued, “It’s a pity you never knew him. You were babies when he died. Tragic loss. One of the finest minds I’ve ever known … even if he was a priest,” he added, unable to resist the jab at his old debating partner, and feeling sadness at the lack of a rejoinder.
Borric said, “Were you joking about the enchantment on Jimmy?”
Kulgan said, “You are very young, my Prince. You don’t know half of everything yet. Or a half of a half. Or even half of that,” he added with a more than playful whack with his staff to Borric’s leg for emphasis.
“Ow,” Borric said, reflexively dancing back.
As Erland began to laugh, Kulgan gave him a bark on the shins as well, saying, “Just to keep things even.”
As both brothers made a show of being in pain, Kulgan said, “Now pay attention. I’m old and I don’t have the time to waste repeating myself.”
When the twins ceased their little dances of distress, Kulgan said, “The sort of enchantment I am speaking of is nothing you can teach. It’s not of the sort of magic men can employ at whim. It’s a magic the gods have given to only a few lucky men and women. It’s the magic of a love so real and
“The rest of us except Uncle Jimmy.”
“Right,” agreed Borric. “My point exactly. He’s had his share, we both know that. But he’s always kept them at a distance and never made stupid promises. It’s like … he never found something he was looking for. Now he meets this woman and …” He paused, at a loss for words.
“Like magic.”
“Exactly!” said Borric. “And what better place to find magic than an island of magicians?”
Erland put a restraining hand on Borric as his brother started to walk again. “You think this is some sort of spell? An enchantment?”
“Ah, a very special enchantment,” said a gravelly voice from the dark.
Both brothers turned to see a stout figure sitting upon a tree stump not ten feet away. Because the man had been motionless, he had remained unseen in the gloom until he spoke. Coming closer, the young Princes saw the speaker was the old magician, Kulgan.
“What do you mean?” asked Borric, as if his suspicions had been confirmed.
Kulgan laughed. He stuck out his hand for a moment, then waved it impatiently. “Well, just don’t stand there. Give an old man some help. My knees are older than creation!”
Erland assisted the old magician as Kulgan pulled himself upright, one hand in Erland’s, the other on a large wooden staff. The magician continued, “I’ll walk with you to the ferry landing. I assume you’re going across to find some trouble. Boys your age always are interested in trouble.”
“The enchantment?” said Borric impatiently.
The old man laughed. “You know, when your grandfather Borric was a little older than you, he was just as unwilling to wait. When he wanted an answer, he wanted it right now, by damn. It took a lot of years for him to get over that. Your father has the same flaw, but he hides it better. Arutha always was among the best I’ve known for recognizing limits.”
Erland said, “He has that knack, except when it comes to us.”
Kulgan fixed both brothers with a baleful gaze. “Limits? What do you spoiled children know of limits? Oh, maybe you’ve had to use your swords now and again, but limits?” He halted for a moment and leaned upon the staff. Tapping his head with one finger, he said, “This. Your brain. When you bring all your faculties to bear on a problem, try every conceivable solution in your mind, and still have no solution, then you’ll understand what limits I’m talking about.”
“Father always said you were one of his most demanding teachers,” said Erland with a grin.
“Ha!” snorted Kulgan. “Now Father Tully, there was an exacting taskmaster.” His eyes looked off in the distance, reflecting for a moment, then he continued, “It’s a pity you never knew him. You were babies when he died. Tragic loss. One of the finest minds I’ve ever known … even if he was a priest,” he added, unable to resist the jab at his old debating partner, and feeling sadness at the lack of a rejoinder.
Borric said, “Were you joking about the enchantment on Jimmy?”
Kulgan said, “You are very young, my Prince. You don’t know half of everything yet. Or a half of a half. Or even half of that,” he added with a more than playful whack with his staff to Borric’s leg for emphasis.
“Ow,” Borric said, reflexively dancing back.
As Erland began to laugh, Kulgan gave him a bark on the shins as well, saying, “Just to keep things even.”
As both brothers made a show of being in pain, Kulgan said, “Now pay attention. I’m old and I don’t have the time to waste repeating myself.”
When the twins ceased their little dances of distress, Kulgan said, “The sort of enchantment I am speaking of is nothing you can teach. It’s not of the sort of magic men can employ at whim. It’s a magic the gods have given to only a few lucky men and women. It’s the magic of a love so real and
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