Chapter 14 - Arrival at Castell y Blaenoraid.
Two days passed relatively slowly but without incident and without much communication between the two wizards. Flintock was still brooding about the things Llewel had said and done. Llewel was still trying to think of a plan to get him off the hook and implicate Flintock in Tom’s disappearance. As they rounded the top of the last of the hills, there in the distance they could see the central city and rising above it, the daunting view of Castell y Blaenoraid. The castle of the Elder of Elders, meeting place of the Council of the High Elders, the Council of Blaenoraid.
They stopped to take a breath and view the castle. They both wondered what fate awaited them as they returned empty handed, no boy, no ring. But still, hardly a word was uttered between them.
Llewel the Elder had hatched his little plan and was just about to play what he thought was his trump card.
“This whole journey has taken too long. We should fly in the rest of the way, if we stay at a low level, we should be safe if our flying fails us.”
Llewel didn’t apparate, he was too scared he would end up inside the castle wall rather than next to it.
“What do you mean by we?” Flintock replied, “Tryg cannot fly, do you expect me to just leave him here while we fly off into the distance?”
“He could easily make his own way at twice the speed he is doing now walking with us. He will only be a couple of hours behind us.”
“And what sort of welcome would an unaccompanied trygall get at the city gates? They would not only not let him in, but they would drive him away.”
“Well, I’ll go on ahead and let them know we are all safe and on our way.”
“We are not all safe and on our way. We do not have Tom or the ring.”
“No, you misunderstand, by we, I mean me, you and Tryg.”
That was the first time Llewel had ever refereed to Tryg by his name. Flintlock’s gut told him that Llewel had hatched a plan which was not going to end well for him or Tryg. But before he could say another word, Flintock was astride his staff and moving away fast.
“Stop!” shouted Flintock, “Stop! Come back here or I’ll break every bone in your body," but before the sentence was finished, Llewel had vanished into the distance.
“Right Tryg, now for our own little trick. Come here and hold on.”
Tryg and Flintock joined arms, and with that, they both vanished from where they were and reappeared just outside the city walls.
Once out of sight, Llewel flew cautiously, just in case he did fall off, and so, two hours later he arrived at the city and stepped down from his staff. The guards did not challenge him, you don’t challenge a High Elder when he enters the city. Neither did they acknowledge him, normally a High Elder would be greeted and welcomed by the guards at the city gates, the guards always made an exception for Llewel the Elder. He never even noticed the insult despite being repeated often.
He made his way to the castle, again the guards stepped aside, but did not acknowledge him with even a polite nod of the head. He entered and went straight to the council chamber and requested the clerk to convene a meeting of the High Elders immediately. Only four of the High Elders, including Llewel, plus the Elder of Elders were physically present in the castle at that time. The other two, Govannon Staley of the Elven community and Brangwen Binning of Dolydd appeared, but not in solid format. They were in the neither here nor there.
The council chamber was round, a double door for entry. In the chamber, there were six seats set in a circle. Opposite the main door was the chair of the Elder of Elders. Much larger than the other chairs. More a throne than a chair, ornately decorated with gilt; behind the chair a single door which led to the vestry of the Elder. The acoustics of the chamber were perfect, so all could hear when the Elder spoke, he spoke little, but the chamber was almost designed for that rare occasion. In the centre of the circle was a round table. At this table sat the clerk to the Elders, the clerk to the Elder of Elders, the minute taker, who curiously didn’t write anything down, but was able to recall every word spoken in every meeting going back for as far as anyone could remember. The fourth chair at the round table was empty. There was also a small gallery where other invited guests sat and a sort of dock for when the chamber was used as a courtroom. The whole room was only about forty feet in diameter.
The Elder of Elders entered and took his seat, the High Elders who all stood awaiting his entry, all sat down. As was his custom, he did not speak but instead the clerk to the Elder of Elders opened the meeting and then asked the question they had all gathered to have answered.
“High Elder Llewel, High Elder of Wrth y Môr, Castle by the Sea. What is your news of the acolyte Thomas Jones, son of Llewellyn the Brave, the ring of the seven elders, Elder Flintock and the trygall?” the clerk always spoke in this very grand way, always titling every person correctly and precisely.
Llewel worded his answer carefully to not actually tell a lie.
“All are well and in safe hands. Flintock is only a few hours walk from here and will be with us shortly.”
The clerk repeated, "the acolyte, Thomas Jones, son of Llewellyn the Brave, the ring of the seven elders. They too are safe and in good hands?”
“Oh yes,” he said, “the very safest of hands.”
He didn’t lie then either, but he didn’t know that he was telling the truth.
We will await their arrival and reconvene at that time. Adjourned!”
With that, the High Elders all stood and awaited the Elder of Elders to vacate his throne and leave the chamber. As soon as he had gone, the other High Elders also dispersed, leaving as a group, all chatting happily together about the expected turn of events. All except Llewel, who they ignored to a man and woman, neither nodding to him nor acknowledging him in any way. This act of ostracism was in his mind a mark of respect because, in his little mind, he believed that they all felt a little inferior to himself, meaning he must be superior to them.
Meanwhile, unbeknown to Llewel, Flintock and Tryg had arrived at the city sometime before him, having apparated to just outside the city limits to await his arrival. They entered, not through the main gate where Llewel had entered, but through a small side gate where Flintock knew there was only a single guard. As he approached, he muttered a small obfuscating spell causing the guard not to challenge him, and then pulled his hood right up to hide his face. He went straight to a tavern he knew which was frequented by Llewellyn. He cautiously looked around. In a dark corner away from the main lounge area, he saw who he wanted, and he and Tryg moved over to the small alcove to greet his friend.
“Llewellyn the Brave,” he said.
“Flintock the Elder, Tryg,” he replied, "Flinty, I have been expecting you as I am sure you were expecting me. Sit quickly, I have much to tell you but little time as I should be elsewhere at this moment.”
Flintock went to speak, he needed to tell him that his boy had disappeared, "Hush and listen,” Llewellyn continued, “I have both the boy and the ring, so fear nothing.”
Flintock looked shocked but half expectant.
“Llewel the stupid Elder is up to no good, he purposely tried to get here before me to speak to the council. I am sure he will try to blame me or Tryg for Tom’s disappearance.”
Llewellyn smiled.
“What’s so amusing about that?”
“Llewel the stupid Elder, that’s what, it’s exactly what Tom called him when I apparated him in,” they both smiled.
Llewellyn ordered some ale and roasted meat for them and a herb tea and meat for Tryg, Flintock pulled his hood close as it arrived.
“Don’t fear the council, they all despise Llewel as much as he despises them. They will know soon enough that both Tom and the ring is safe. You have my word on that.”
“Llewellyn my friend, you have a very gifted boy, he was doing magic and spells beyond what most experienced wizards could do and doing them well. Llewel was livid, he kept telling him to stop before he hurt himself or someone else, but he was so in control. He was amazing and Llewel was so jealous. Whenever Tom did something amazing, Llewel would either say that he was just about to do that, or that Tom was lucky to get away with it. But Tom’s magic was way above anything Llewel could do.”
Llewellyn smiled broadly at his friend Flintock. Then it suddenly dawned on Flintock.
“It was you, wasn’t it? It was you working your magic through the boy and his wand. Brilliant!” he exclaimed as he clapped his hands in joy.
“Yes, I'm afraid it was, with Howel’s help, of course, he was never far away, but well out of sight. When he first received his wand from the wand tree and Llewel did his little scorched earth demonstration, I picked up the signal from Tom that he wanted to be a healer and restorer, not a destroyer, so that is why I then changed from what would have been a most fantastic firework display ever seen, to restoring the plain to better than it was before. I was a little disappointed, I had such a magnificent display already in my head, spell-woven down to the last flicker and pop, but Tom didn’t want it that way. It was me that built the thicket around you on the plain when the hordes of Asmodeus almost came calling, and it was me also who healed the poor Merrick brothers and your broken arm.”
“Thanks for that, that was painful.”
“But keep this all to yourself. The council will want to question you about this later, tell them all exactly what you saw, and make out it was my boy who did everything on his own. But I’ll tell you what I didn’t do, it wasn’t me that stopped time, that was all Tom. The first job when he came to me was to work with him on controlling and mastering that little trick. It took a whole day, but we cracked it in the end, so now he can hold time at his will. I’m so proud of him and still only thirteen years old. But I must go, I need to get back, so we’ll catch up later.”
“How’d he do it then? Get back where?”
Llewellyn just tapped the side of his nose and then disappeared. “What!” thought Flintock. “You can’t apparate in the city bounds. How did he do that?”
The council reconvened. This time, for the first time anyone could remember, the fourth chair in the centre was occupied. In it sat a man dressed from head to foot in black, his hood pulled over his face so no one could see him.
The clerk to the Elder of Elders spoke, "Elder of Elders, High Elders, clerk to the High Elders and any others present,” he nodded towards the stranger in black, “we have reconvened as foretold at the arrival of Flintock the Elder into the city. He arrived at a side gate some while ago with his trygall, he then proceeded at once to find refreshment at a local hostelry where he met with Llewellyn the Brave, but these facts were not reported for some hours. There was no sign of the boy Thomas, the son of Llewellyn, or of the ring of the seven elders. The boy Thomas and the ring of the elders were in your keeping. You, Llewel the Elder of Môr, Castle by the Sea, are requested to explain to the council, your declaration at the previous meeting that they were safe and in good hands?”
“Well,” sneered Llewel the Elder, “Flintock, the incompetent fool must have lost him and the ring. They were fine the last time I saw them. He should be stripped of the title of Elder if you ask me.”
A tall and elegant woman with long black hair that partly obscured her face on one side before flowing down to her waist, raised her hand.
“High Elder Aneta Stepanek of Goleuedigaeth has the floor," announced the clerk.
“Tell us High Elder Llewel,” she spoke in a firm Eastern European accent, “remembering who I am, High Elder Aneta Stepanek of Goleuedigaeth, from the city of Enlightenment, who already knows the truth. But for the benefit of others here present, where and when did you last see the acolyte Thomas, son of Llewellyn and the ring of the elders?”
She fixed her eyes hard against his, now he could not lie even if he tried, he tried to look away, but he could not. High Elder Aneta Stepanek knew the truth and would tell it anyway.
“Three days ago, by a farmhouse on the Great Plain. We had walked into what I thought was an ambush and during the argument about what to do afterwards, he just vanished.”
“So, are you telling us that a thirteen-year-old acolyte with no discernible magic apparated away from you, a High Elder and Flintock the Elder, one of the finest wizards in the land,” and she added for good measure, whispering as if to herself, “a wizard far superior to you in every way.”
But because of the perfect acoustics, everyone heard anyway, including Llewel.
“Well yes, he must have done, there is no other explanation, and although you call him an acolyte of no magic, his magic was powerful and growing. He could do things that many Elders could not do,” a mumble of disapproval sounded round the room, “Yes, you may scoff, but he did. Once he had his wand, he was away. I taught him well, everything he knows, I taught him. I showed him how to hold his wand and demonstrated how to make a small bush burst into flames, I told him to try another bush to see what he could do, expecting either nothing at all, or for him to blow the whole bush out of the ground, but instead, he turned to my smouldering bush and restored it to be more beautiful than before.”
He then told them of his restoration of the plain after he had torched that, the building of the impenetrable thicket when Asmodeus and his hordes came across the plain. Asmodeus, who had returned to the council because of the current crisis, blushed a little but did not defend or deny his actions. He told of the tracking spell Tom had discovered on his trainers, embarrassing both him and Asmodeus. He told of the healing of the Merrick brothers and how he repaired the farmhouse as well. He told them everything he could just to make them see that Tom was indeed already a powerful wizard who could easily apparate away if he wanted to. He even confessed that he was too hard on the boy and that was probably the reason he left anyway. He told them everything he could so they would not blame him.
“This is all very interesting,” said High Elder Traveon Baughan of Gwir, addressing the council and not waiting to be introduced, but who can collaborate on this amazing story? Why do we not see if Flintock the Elder tells a similarly unbelievable tale?”
“Warder!” cried the clerk, “take Llewel, strip him of his wand and place him in a cage of cold iron and take him to the dungeon.”
The council chamber itself was en-caged in cold iron and enchanted so no magic could be done there, no pulling of wands to settle a dispute, no drawing of staffs to try an escape. The man in black stood, and although you could not see his form, you could feel the strength that seemed to emanate from his body. Llewel only came up as far as the heavy black leather belt around his waist. He was more Nephilim{1} than man. Llewel gave over his wand sheepishly, which was placed in a wooden box, banded with cold iron, and locked with an iron lock. The round table split and then folded to the sides and an iron cage rose into the room, Llewel was led into the cage which then disappeared below, and the table unfolded and moved together, looking like the solid table most had assumed it was before. Llewel noticed that the very formal clerk to the Elder of Elders had failed to use his title of High Elder, which could only mean one thing, he was no longer a High Elder.
“Adjourned for one hour! Summon Flintock the Elder.” The council stood, awaited the departure of the Elder of Elders, then they too dispersed out of the chamber.
An hour later, the council reassembled. Flintock the Elder was invited in and questioned similarly. The difference was, Flintock gave clear concise answers. The boy disappeared three days ago after an argument with Llewel the Elder in which Thomas’ final and angry words to Llewel were “You’re not the boss of me!” and then he vanished. Several of the High Elders sniggered at this new turn of phrase, one they had never heard before. Flintock then also told of all the magic which Tom had performed, about how amazed they both were, about Tom’s natural abilities and how High Elder Llewel wanted to stop him from doing magic and criticised his every move. But Flintock continued to enthuse about the boy’s abilities.
During his story, the clerk intervened only once to tell Flintock that Llewel the High Elder was now just Llewel and to refrain from using his former title as it was no longer valid.
At the end of his long tale, there was a short discussion among the High Elders. Those who had scoffed before now seemed to not only believe but also seemed excited about the powers of the new young wizard. Perhaps he was ‘the one’, they thought.
Flintock knew that he had not told the whole story, he also knew that Aneta Stepanek would know that he had held something back, she was the enlightened one who always knew the truth even before it was spoken.
When she rose to speak again. His blood ran cold, she knew he was holding something back and now she was going to expose him.