Robert Carter - Whitemantle

And Will suddenly recalled what Gwydion had said about the Great Lie. That too was only an idea, but the wizard had said that it was immensely dangerous – an idea that, in a manner of speaking, had the power to turn other ideas to stone. It worked upon men, women and children, not by shackling their bodies as the Slavers had done, but by imprisoning their minds.

Lotan turned. ‘The axe that made me so terrible to look upon has left me good for little beyond the terrifying of mobs, or perhaps the begging of pennies from those who desire to buy a glimpse of horror, but I remain my own man. I can do no other.’

Will heard no self-pity in Lotan’s voice, rather a wry humour that spoke of inner strength. ‘Friend Lotan,’ he said, ‘you still haven’t told me why you chose to save an old beggarman from the mob.’

‘Because you decided to be kind to me.’

‘I?’ Will peered hard at the dark shadow that lay beneath Lotan’s hood. ‘How was I kind?’

‘You gave me an apple.’

Will froze. ‘That…was you?’

‘I sensed your magic, even then, and so I followed you. I have no eyes, but in consequence I can feel much that was once hidden from me. I was drawn towards the Spire when you went there. And when I heard the hue and cry, I came here to make your acquaintance. I have hunted down many a man before, though few throw off the sparks that you do. It was not difficult to direct you here.’

Will was astonished. ‘You knew about me all the time?’

‘I was here when you entered this yard. I witnessed your change of form. I knew what you were, and—’ he grasped Will’s wrist,’—I chose to help you.’

‘But…what do you want from me?’

‘I want you to help me.’

Lotan suddenly threw back his hood and showed his ruined face. Empty sockets yawned, and Will saw what work the axe-blade had done – livid flesh ran from ear to chin and his cheek was sunken where an entire upper row of teeth had been smashed away. ‘Please, I beg you, sorcerer – give me back my sight!’

The word sorcerer made Will recoil, but a spasm of sympathetic pain flashed through him.

‘I am no sorcerer,’ he said. ‘It’s true that I’m somewhat versed in magic, but—’

‘But you will not help me.’

‘I cannot. The restoring of your sight is a task far beyond any magic that I can work. Even the healing powers of a king could not—’

Lotan’s grip tightened on Will’s arm. ‘You transformed yourself! I felt you do it. I sensed it all from where I stood in the shadows. Nor was that any spell of seeming. You have powerful magic in you, powerful enough to shift shape, powerful enough to give me back my eyesight – if only you would decide to use it!’

‘You’re right—’Will said, pulling away, overawed by the bodily presence of the man.

‘I knew it!’

Will’s disguise was quickly reverting now, and he felt uncomfortably exposed. ‘What I mean is, you’re right that it’s no simple thing to make transformations. It takes powerful magic, but it’s a thousand times harder to unpick the spells of another – especially when the original change is one that was agreed upon freely. For that very reason, such magic as I am able to call upon cannot so much as remove a tattoo – not unless it was printed in the flesh by force.’

‘Please help me!’

‘Listen to me, Lotan! You gave yourself under oath to the Sighdess Ones. That was your given word. Such an oath is binding. It is not within the scope of my powers to reverse that change.’

The other slumped, like a great brazen statue being melted down in a crucible. ‘The gold I saved while I was a soldier, I buried it in a meadow near Verlamion before the battle. Even after all this time I could help you to find it—’

As Will shook his head more grey vanished into thin air. ‘Magic does not work through payment. The rede says, “Magic may be neither boughten nor sold.”’

‘Then I am going down into the fires of Hell…’

Lotan’s head collapsed into his hands and he rocked back and forth in silence. For a moment he seemed to be sobbing soundlessly, and Will considered the full misery into which this man had sunk. It was frightful.

What he had said to Lotan had hurt because, as the rede said, ‘Refusals disappoint, and great refusals disappoint greatly.’ And Will knew he would have to hurt Lotan even more.

Unable to wait any longer, Will stood up and began to unravel the transformation that had disguised him. He stepped out the gestures that helped the magic to unwind and restore him to his true condition and at last grew still.

‘You move with elegance,’ Lotan said emptily. ‘I could feel it. I think you must be a very handsome young man.’

Will knew he must check himself. In too short a space of time he had been placed under a tremendous obligation. His feelings had been slammed from pillar to post, and now he felt an overwhelming desire to do something that he might regret.

I can’t so easily walk away from a man who has just saved my skin, he thought. I can’t leave him in this alley and tell him there is no hope, when I know a man who might just be able to set everything to rights.

He tried not to think of Gwydion, but it was no good. The part of him that wanted to see the world become what it ought to be overflowed like a fountain. Of course, it was horribly wrong to presume upon a wizard’s powers – he had learned that lesson only too well at Delamprey. And it would be cruel to offer false hope to Lotan. But how could he just cut a man’s hopes adrift?

What shall I do? he asked himself. It would compromise Gwydion greatly if I were to tell any stranger that an Ogdoad wizard had entered Trinovant recently.

He scratched his head, but no better idea came into it. ‘There is a man I know who is far wiser than I. He may have some advice for you. Only advice, I say. But I will ask.’

‘I knew you would help me!’

Will felt a wave of gratitude break over him. ‘I make no promises,’ he cautioned. ‘And now I must go. Shall I look for you again in this place?’

‘Yes!’ Lotan’s empty eye sockets gazed towards the narrow patch of sky that opened above the alley. He threw himself to his knees and clasped his hands together in an attitude of such rapture that Will was embarrassed. ‘Have I your word of honour that you will come back?’

‘You may count that as a promise.’

‘I do not know why, young sorcerer,’ Lotan said fervently, ‘but I believe you.’

Will looked sharply around as Lotan seized his hand again. ‘You must not call me “sorcerer”, “enchanter”, “warlock” or “magician” – these words are easily misunderstood and lead to trouble. I’ll look for you again here about midnight, though I can’t say which midnight it will be.’

‘Then I will wait for you here every night.’

Will turned and looked down the alley. ‘Which way should I go if I’m to find the White Hall?’

Lotan drew back. ‘You have business at the royal palace?’

‘If I do, it’s my own business.’

‘Then you should avoid the Spire and go out of the City by the Luddsgate and along the roads they call the Fleete and the West Strande.’

‘You mean the White Hall lies outside the City?’

‘Didn’t you know? It’s on the north bank of the river, maybe half a league from here. To find it keep the warmth of the setting sun on your face, but always follow the stink of the river as it bends south. You will not mistake the place for the walls are high and the echoes carry there like the ghosts of the past.’

As Will emerged from the alley he found the small street deserted. The overhangs of the houses closed in above him, and in the quiet he was aware of cooking smells and the distant sounds of commerce on a busy street. The way out of the maze was easier to find than he expected.