The Witch & the Cathedral - Wizard of Yurt - 4 by C. Dale Brittain Page A
Authors: C. Dale Brittain
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could tell we had not. "Race you back to the castle," he said, reaching for his horse's reins.
At dinner that night the queen formally welcomed me home to Yurt. We ate as we always did in the great hall of the castle. A brass choir, seated on a little balcony, played as the serving platters were brought in. Suspended beneath the high ceiling were the magic globes made many years ago by my predecessor as Royal Wizard, casting a sparkling light on the crystal and silver. The tall windows stood wide open, but a blazing fire on the hearth took the chill out of the spring air.
As regent, the queen sat at the head of the main table where the king had once sat, and Paul sat at the opposite end. I wondered where Vincent would expect to be seated once he married the queen.
I dined as I always had with the Lady Maria on my right hand and the chaplain facing me across the table. Paul's Great-aunt Maria now had hair as white as mine, but her manner had scarcely changed since she had worn her golden curls in girlish locks bedecked with bows.
"It was not the same here while you were gone," she said, fixing me with wide blue eyes. "All that arcane wisdom you wizards acquire makes you uniquely capable of counseling a court on all sorts of worldly matters, not just those involving magic." She paused for a bite. "But there are other matters," she added, "where even a wizard's wisdom does not reach: these are the affairs of the soul. And it is the inner soul, the inner heart, that drives women and men. I may seem to be an old woman leading a quiet life in a small kingdom, but within this heart are scores of adventures, of triumphs, of tragedies, of fears and hopes each day."
I had forgotten in my months away how irritating the Lady Maria could sometimes be. This sounded like the result of what Paul had characterized as theological discussions with the young chaplain.
He smiled and bobbed his head at her. To me he seemed much too young to have the responsibility for the souls of the royal court—he was even younger than I had been when I first came to Yurt. He had a very wide, congenial smile, but somehow I had never felt it was sincere. If Joachim did become bishop, I thought, I would ask him for a different chaplain.
"We know what you wizards do down at that school," continued the Lady Maria, jabbing me playfully with her elbow. "You plan to coordinate all your efforts, both against the western kings and against the Church!"
"We certainly try to coordinate our wizardly efforts for best effect," I said, startled to find that I was considered one of the wizards down at the school. "It's always hard, though.
I'm sure you know that wizards are generally in competition with each other—and not always friendly competition. And if wizardry and the Church are rivals," I added graciously but insincerely, "I think the Church may be winning."
"But is it really true," the Lady Maria asked, "that your school now intends to put a wizard not just in every royal or ducal court, but in every castle and manor house?"
The young chaplain widened his eyes at me as though trying to signal that he was not responsible for her. I found this highly unlikely.
"I wouldn't call it an intention," I said uneasily. What had the young chaplain been telling them while I was gone? It was a good thing that Joachim's call had taken me away from the school sooner than I had planned, or there might have been a full-fledged plot against institutionalized magic here by the time I finished making improvisation into an organized discipline. "It's certainly true that more noble households have hired wizards during the last generation or so, but that's only because the school has made more fully qualified wizards available."
I added to myself that it was a good thing I had graduated when I did. Without an honors certificate or even areas of distinction, I might not be able today to become Royal Wizard at even as small a kingdom as Yurt, and I could instead be casting spells
At dinner that night the queen formally welcomed me home to Yurt. We ate as we always did in the great hall of the castle. A brass choir, seated on a little balcony, played as the serving platters were brought in. Suspended beneath the high ceiling were the magic globes made many years ago by my predecessor as Royal Wizard, casting a sparkling light on the crystal and silver. The tall windows stood wide open, but a blazing fire on the hearth took the chill out of the spring air.
As regent, the queen sat at the head of the main table where the king had once sat, and Paul sat at the opposite end. I wondered where Vincent would expect to be seated once he married the queen.
I dined as I always had with the Lady Maria on my right hand and the chaplain facing me across the table. Paul's Great-aunt Maria now had hair as white as mine, but her manner had scarcely changed since she had worn her golden curls in girlish locks bedecked with bows.
"It was not the same here while you were gone," she said, fixing me with wide blue eyes. "All that arcane wisdom you wizards acquire makes you uniquely capable of counseling a court on all sorts of worldly matters, not just those involving magic." She paused for a bite. "But there are other matters," she added, "where even a wizard's wisdom does not reach: these are the affairs of the soul. And it is the inner soul, the inner heart, that drives women and men. I may seem to be an old woman leading a quiet life in a small kingdom, but within this heart are scores of adventures, of triumphs, of tragedies, of fears and hopes each day."
I had forgotten in my months away how irritating the Lady Maria could sometimes be. This sounded like the result of what Paul had characterized as theological discussions with the young chaplain.
He smiled and bobbed his head at her. To me he seemed much too young to have the responsibility for the souls of the royal court—he was even younger than I had been when I first came to Yurt. He had a very wide, congenial smile, but somehow I had never felt it was sincere. If Joachim did become bishop, I thought, I would ask him for a different chaplain.
"We know what you wizards do down at that school," continued the Lady Maria, jabbing me playfully with her elbow. "You plan to coordinate all your efforts, both against the western kings and against the Church!"
"We certainly try to coordinate our wizardly efforts for best effect," I said, startled to find that I was considered one of the wizards down at the school. "It's always hard, though.
I'm sure you know that wizards are generally in competition with each other—and not always friendly competition. And if wizardry and the Church are rivals," I added graciously but insincerely, "I think the Church may be winning."
"But is it really true," the Lady Maria asked, "that your school now intends to put a wizard not just in every royal or ducal court, but in every castle and manor house?"
The young chaplain widened his eyes at me as though trying to signal that he was not responsible for her. I found this highly unlikely.
"I wouldn't call it an intention," I said uneasily. What had the young chaplain been telling them while I was gone? It was a good thing that Joachim's call had taken me away from the school sooner than I had planned, or there might have been a full-fledged plot against institutionalized magic here by the time I finished making improvisation into an organized discipline. "It's certainly true that more noble households have hired wizards during the last generation or so, but that's only because the school has made more fully qualified wizards available."
I added to myself that it was a good thing I had graduated when I did. Without an honors certificate or even areas of distinction, I might not be able today to become Royal Wizard at even as small a kingdom as Yurt, and I could instead be casting spells
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