Chapter 8: Concerning Men and Wizards
One of the Zargolian elf riders, after receiving all the news he could, turned toward Zargol. Yet before he left the Old City, he was stopped by a young elf who wanted to join him. This young elf, named Tierney, wanted to join the elves in Zargol in their struggle against Sanguinar. The elves in the Old City had seen how for some time Sanguinar had been stirring up more trouble than necessary. He had the elves attack a town of men when the leader of the town said that they could have discussed Sanguinar’s plans first. Sanguinar tried to gain control of more cities, towns, and peoples to complete his domain. Soon, this rider discovered, the Zargolian elves would be next, along with the towns of men scattered throughout the desert near Zargol. And now, another odd thing was happening: one of Sanguinar’s young servants wanted to leave his service and join the Zargolian elves. This rider, being nothing more than an experienced and skillful messenger, blind-folded Tierney and set out on the road to Zargol.
He led Tierney a different way back, making sure that so many turns and days would be spent in a certain place that Tierney, if sent back to the Old City, would not be able to find Zargol. None of the elves in the Old City knew where Zargol was or how to get to it, and the Zargolian elves used this ignorance as a kind of defense.
Immediately when Tierney arrived in Zargol, which was in the middle of the night, the leader and the elders who were revered as wise and knowledgeable heard his reason for desiring to live in Zargol. To their questions, he answered, “As you are beginning to learn, Sanguinar is declaring war on everyone—he doesn’t let people surrender first, but attacks them and hears their surrender as the battle begins to grow boring. Soon he will look to you. He knows where you are and will have his army attack mercilessly. Those beings in his army are ruthless—they kill everyone, not just those fighting against them but the women, children, injured, and ill. Even with an army you are not safe—no one is, not even we who work for him.
“And that is why I have decided to join your side. I studied under Sanguinar—I learned his ways and, most importantly, I learned his art of command. Whatever he says comes to pass, even if it appears impossible. Some call it magic or spells. I don’t know what it is, but it is his power, and the key to winning this battle against him.”
Their leader held silence a long time before speaking, “What is your purpose in coming here? What do you want to do?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Tierney cried. “I want to teach others this craft so that with the army and with this added power we will be able to win.”
“Are you mad?” The leader asked. “This is a foolish idea—your desire to teach others this power will consume you so that you too will want power. I will not allow you to follow through with this scheme of yours. Go back from whence you came.”
“You don’t understand!” Tierney pulled himself from the groping hands of the guards who tried to force him away. “Having only an army will not defeat Sanguinar. It may sound like a dubious plot to teach others Sanguinar’s power and use it against him, but that’s the only thing that will work. His own knowledge and power can defeat himself—not other safer, better ways. With this power what matters is the intention, and here, the intentions are good—for a good outcome to this war—to keep Sanguinar from spreading his reign and ruining the lives of more people.”
Once more Nouhues sat in thought. He did not want this young elf with big aspirations but with little common sense otherwise to do this. Nouhues could already see the consequences of letting Tierney do this, but he know that it would be difficult to tell him otherwise. With great pain, the leader said to him: “You have my permission to teach others this secret power of yours, of Sanguinar’s. But not in Zargol. You will have to go away from here—at least a day’s journey by horseback. There, wherever you like you may settle and start teaching this power. You may have no more than ten pupils, and they cannot be elves—of any kind. Are these stipulations clear?”
Tierney faltered, obviously disappointed with the guidelines to which he would have to adhere. “Then how will I be able to do this if I can’t teach elves? You’ve given me permission, but you’ve also made it impossible to carry out my plans.”
The leader smiled. “I gave you permission, and even though it may seem impossible, it isn’t. The race of elves has been torn apart so many times that I don’t want another schism. Therefore, elves are out of the question. But you are forgetting the dwarves. Perhaps they would like to learn your magic—if you can bring them out of their caves. If they won’t help, then there are always men—if they are capable of such a thing.” Here, he laughed, more to mock men than to laugh at Tierney. However, soon the other elves started laughing and joking about the men and their capabilities and how in order to survive, they had to imitate the elves in many things. Quickly enough, Tierney took this laughing as jeering, and he left them to laugh about these things while he journeyed east and north to find a place to settle that would be his alone.
After two days’ ride on horseback, Tierney came to a wooded place in the mountains that had quick, cold streams intersecting it, and rich soil. It did not take him long before he marked the boundaries of the city. Once he completed this, he rode out once more, only this time in the hope of coming across a camp of men. Day after day he rode upon his swift horse, but came across no one. He even climbed the mountains and high places in order to see far around him. Five days altogether he spent in this endeavor, and almost abandoned his search in this direction when he came upon the last wooded place before the desert. Indeed, the trees’ soil was the sand, and their nourishment a brackish river that was drying up and carrying little water. The trees—with dark leaves and thick trunks—were silent, and he felt them watching him. He knew he was not alone, but among many. However, when he looked about him, he did not see anything other than trees. Then it occurred to him to look up, where between two thick branches, he could just make out another person.
This man, startled that Tierney had seen him, suddenly dropped to the ground and held his knife to Tierney’s throat. To his dismay, he heard the soft sound of arrows being fitted to their bows and the strings drawn taut. Tierney did not move for fear, and would have said something to them except his voice caught in his throat. The man who held the knife to him asked in a strange accent: “Who are you? What do you want?” The harsh voice and rough looks of the man frightened Tierney so much that he could not reply. With a thrust of the knife pushing against his throat, Tierney heard the man yell, “Speak!”
“I—I come to ask if some of your—people would like to join me in learning Sanguinar’s power—it’s our only defense against him.”
The man laughed cruelly: “You expect us to believe you? After what Sanguinar and your elves have already done to us? No, elf. We are not a forgiving race—you should have thought of that before hurting us and our neighbors.”
Tierney asked, “Please, can you push what has happened between our races aside and join me? Others of your people have already suffered under Sanguinar, and he will come for you. Even you are not safe on the edge of the desert in your trees. Please, join me and forget what has past—”
“How can we forget?” The man asked. “Do you know what happened between our races? What is still going on?” Even though Tierney nodded, the man continued, “I’ll tell you anyway—it’s always good to be reminded of the evil you have done.
“We men were created from the dust by Dustanan. We are made from that which is tread upon, also that which causes your sandals to become dirty. So by the elves we are called names, one of them being dirt, and filth. We are not immortal, and only the greatest among us live past one hundred years—hardly anything to you elves. So here we were, in Lataria, created in the middle of the desert with very little knowledge and preparation except for the fact that this world has been around longer than we have and that it is already inhabited by intelligent creatures. Dustan
an told our ancestors that if they sought help from the elves, then they would receive it. Yet that was not so. Because of our lack of certain qualities, we were jeered, called names, forced away from the elves.
“Our fathers, determined to survive this cruel land of Lataria, learned through observing the elves. Again, we were ridiculed because we imitated the elves; and the elves destroyed our work. When the one group of elves moved into Zargolith, some men went with them to help them adjust to their new surroundings. Winter was approaching, and these men knew that these elves would not know how to survive the cold. Yet these elves refused their help, chasing them away, saying that men knew nothing that the elves did not already know.
“So here we are. Keeping a reasonable distance from all elves because of the ways we have been treated. Indeed, we do not want anything to do with you elves. We will not forgive you, for the hurt runs too deep. And now you have just added another insult to the list. Take your ways and ideas with you elsewhere—we do not want you here. We know all we need in order to endure without your help.”
Tierney, having ignored the knife for some time now, urged, “I didn’t mean to insult you. And in the end, certain members of your community will be revered. I took my idea of teaching Sanguinar’s power to the Zargolith elves, but they refused—saying that it won’t work. So I’m asking you—men. I have permission to teach ten of you, and those ten will have the chance to gain more power than any other elf. Longer lives will be given to those who choose to study. This power will defeat Sanguinar, and with ten of us, eleven of us—this power will be even greater. We will restore some balance to these lands; and among the victorious, men will be recognized as the heroes. Your men know how to fight better than ours, and you make stronger weapons. Between your armies and your group of, of wisdom masters—wizards—men will finally gain the recognition they deserve, that you deserve. So what say you?”
The man looked at him: “Where will you teach these wizards of yours?”
“In a place I found on the mountainside—a five day’s journey west of here. If you allow ten men to learn this art, this city over the mountains will be theirs—for the wizards. It will be well protected, and I assure you that these wizards will be honored. It will take time—just like everything does, but what I say will come true.”
Tierney thought his argument rather persuasive; surely, the man would agree to give him ten men to become what he was now calling wizards. However, the man did not give in to him, not yet at least. Instead, he put his knife away and said, “Come, climb into the tree. Darkness is coming and the ground is not safe. Wild animals roam these parts and do not distinguish between other animals and humans.”
They ascended into the tree and Tierney found many of the myths of un-civilization among men to be false. Indeed, he noted there were actions where men excelled over the elves. He had already acknowledged their skill in fighting and forging weapons, but earlier he had said that more to flatter them. But now he could observe everything: their weapons were better made than the elves’; and the men’s clothing, though dull, rough, and itchy, was durable and warm. For being among barbarians—as most elves saw men—Tierney fared fairly well and awoke in the early morning.
The men’s leader told him that everything was prepared for the return journey—even the ten people who would become the first wizards. Even though these people feared the creatures who roamed the earth at night, they had no qualms in sending riders to other villages and in letting the chosen ten travel. Eight men chosen to become wizards introduced themselves to Tierney. Then two women stepped forward. He laughed, restating that all ten were to be male, for he did not believe women would be suited to magic. At this jeer, the leader replied that Tierney would take who they gave him, and that he be grateful for allowing him to put into practice his plan.
Knowing that it would do no good to argue the matter further, Tierney led the chosen ten over the mountains until they reached the place where this magic was to be taught. One of the students asked if this place had a name, but Tierney said that the name he had given it would not translate into the more modern and common tongue the men spoke. In fact, Tierney had not yet named the place, and one of the men called him on his bluff. This man—the youngest in the group—or rather young boy, suggested the name Oquelon from the older dialect.
While Sanguinar and his forces conquered small towns, the tribes of men bordering the desert gathered their forces. Isolated from the enemy, the elves, the men, and the dwarves, Tierney taught these ten everything he knew about Sanguinar, his power, and how to exercise this power. All day they spent learning and practicing, and soon inventing their own spells.
It seemed that once these wizards had mastered this art, the men sent for them asking for their aid. They would emerge from the trees to meet Sanguinar’s army, yet they desired the assurance of their wizards. Tierney sent the wizards to join their army, while he rode further inland toward Zargol where he met with the Zargolian elves, who refused to fight Sanguinar, preferring peaceful talks to war. Yet Tierney persuaded them that Sanguinar would rather destroy them first, than give any thought to negotiating with them.
After deliberating, Tierney persuaded them to march out to war. When Tierney and the elves came upon the battlefield a few days hence, the battle had already started. The elves became outraged when they learned that Tierney had tricked them into helping the men. However, amid the fighting, Tierney indicated to the elves ten people toward the back of the lines. These ten people, though armed, had not drawn their weapons, nor had they joined the fight—at least not physically. On the hill where the elves stood, they saw Sanguinar’s Warriors being destroyed—but by what they could not distinguish at first. Then it occurred to the elves. These ten were those using Sanguinar’s power against him. The elves watched in awe as the men alone fought this battle, and were winning. The elves had thought it impossible, but now that they saw these men using such strong power, they marveled at the invention even more than Tierney expected.
Because of the unexpected power that Sanguinar and his army encountered, his army surrendered this battle but threatened another terrible battle shortly where the men would not reign victorious. When the men turned around to head back to their camps, they encountered the elves. They drew their weapons and prepared to fight them, as well they should have because of the ways most of the elves had treated them. The leader of the elves came forth to meet the leader of the men. There, the elf acknowledged the men’s skill in battle. And then he praised the ten wizards for their marvelous work.
That night, during the feasting and celebrating of the first victory over Sanguinar, the leader of the men thanked Tierney for being true to his word—Tierney had said that the wizards would gain men respect from the elves, and it had happened. This set up a new alliance between elves and men.