Before The Mask by Michael Williams Page B

the patience of the gardener had vanished, and soon
     afterward Mort himself had disappeared.
    But not before he had planted ten thousand sunflowers, which sprouted and bloomed both in
     and out of season, rising overnight everywhere from the bailey to the midden, taunting the
     brooding Daeghrefn with their bright, outrageous colors.
    “He was a prankster, Mort the gardener,” L'Indasha whispered with a chuckle. “Had some
     magic and a wondrous sense of humor. I miss him terribly.”
    Aglaca smiled, but at that moment, Daeghrefn walked into the garden. Robert had not seen
     him coming, and the seneschal held his breath as the Lord of Nidus halted beside the
     druidess and the lad.
    “What are you laughing at, Aglaca?” Daeghrefn asked, and the boy looked up at him calmly.
     The druidess stood, brushed the dirt from her robes, and stepped back into the topiary.
    It was then plain to Robert that L'Indasha was invisible to Daeghrefn. The druidess looked
     straight at the seneschal and winked and smiled in an odd conspiracy.
    Robert's sleep was troubled no longer by fear of disclosure.
    And so both lads received different instruction, different comings of age. Verminaard
     learned by the book, by mages, by laborious study. His companionhis hostage learned by
     invisible druidry and a silent and natural
    grace. Their schoolings taught them of their many differences, but nothing of common
     ground. On the morning of the hunt, at the windswept gate of Castle Nidus, Verminaard
     served in a place of
    honor. He assisted Cerestes the mage in the ritual. According to ancient tradition, the
     likeness of the centicore was drawn upon the thick wooden gate with madder root and woad,
     the red and blue lines swirling in an intricate pattern that drew and focused the gaze of
     the hunter into the painted image.
    It was said that in the Age of Light, the artists drew the preycenticore, wyvern, perhaps
     even dragons themselvesin a fashion so lifelike that the paintings had shrieked when the
     spears entered them.
    Verminaard himself held the brushes for Cerestes as the mage painted the first and boldest
     designs. The young man chanted the old words along with his mentor. When the hunters lined
     up to cast spears at the effigy, the mage handed Verminaard the cherished third spear,
     which followed after Daeghrefn and Robert had cast their weapons.
    It had been perfectthe ceremony, the intoned words from the black-robed mage, Verminaard's
     own spear finding the heart of the whirling red and blue. Verminaard stood back proudly,
     breathing a prayer to the Queen of Darkness, as Cerestes had taught him. Meanwhile, the
     rest of the hunters, fifty in all, each offered his spear to the image, each with a shout,
     a boast, a prayer, as the hunt assembled and the grooms readied the horses.
    ... all perfect until Aglaca refused to join.
    The smug Solamnic had declined, claiming Paladine governed his spear, and Mishakal, and
     Branchalathe old gods of creation and reconciliation and inspiration. He
    would not do this, he said, and then said no more.
    But Verminaard did not let this high-handedness spoil the dayhis day. Had not his spear
     alone found the heart of the painted beast? One last confirmation of his trophy kill was
     all he needed.
    Daeghrefn stood by his horse, preoccupied with saddle and gear, with securing the arsons
     that would brace him in the saddle if he used his lance. Lost in his own calculations, he
     was no more interested in Aglaca's refusal than he had been in the ritual itself. When the
     last man had hurled his spear, the Lord of Nidus was already mounted. He had ignored the
     painting, the incantation, the fellowship of the casting. He had fulfilled his own role in
     the ritual solely because the men expected it.
    Verminaard knelt by the horses and cast the Amarach, the rune stones. The runes today were
     cloudy in the reading, as they often were. The Giant. The Chariot. Hail.