‘Mostly I am called the traveler, for many lands have I seen. Here I am sometimes known as the hermit, for so I live. You may call me what you like. It is all the same.’
Pug looked at him closely. ‘Have you no proper name?’
‘Many, so many that I have forgotten a few. At the time of my birth I was given a name, as you were, but among those of my tribe it is a name known only to the father and the mage-priest.’
Pug considered this. ‘It is all very strange, much like this house. Who are your people?’
The man called the traveler laughed, a good-natured chuckle. ‘You have a curious mind, Pug, full of questions. That is good.’ He paused for a moment, then said, ‘Where are you and your companions from? The ship in the bay flies the Natalese banner of Bordon, but your accent and dress are of the Kingdom.’
Pug said, ‘We are of Crydee,’ and gave the man a brief description of the journey. The man asked a few simple questions, and without being aware of it, Pug found that soon he had given a full accounting of the events that had brought them to the island, and the plans for the rest of the journey.
When he had finished, the traveler said, ‘That is a wondrous story indeed. I should think there will be many more wonders before this strange meeting of worlds is finished.’
Pug questioned him with a look. ‘I don’t understand.’
The traveler shook his head. ‘I don’t expect you to, Pug. Let us say that things are occurring that can be understood only by examination after the fact, with a distance of time separating the participants from the participating.’
Pug scratched his knee. ‘You sound like Kulgan, trying to explain how magic works.’
The traveler nodded. ‘An apt comparison. Though sometimes the only way to understand the workings of magic is to work magic.’
Pug brightened. ‘Are you also a magician?’
The traveler stroked his long black beard. ‘Some have thought me one, but I doubt that Kulgan and I share the same understanding of such things.’
Pug’s expression showed he considered this an unsatisfactory explanation even if he didn’t say so. The traveler leaned forward. ‘I can effect a spell or two, if that answers your question, young Pug.’
Pug heard his name shouted from the courtyard. ‘Come,’ said the traveler. ‘Your friends call. We had best go and reassure them that you are all right.’
They left the bathing room and crossed the open court of the inner garden. A large anteroom separated the garden from the front of the house, and they passed through to the outside. When the others saw Pug in the company of the traveler, they looked around quickly, their weapons drawn. Kulgan and the Prince crossed the court to stand before them. The traveler put up his hands in the universal sign that he was unarmed.
The Prince was the first to speak. ‘Who is your companion, Pug?’
Pug introduced the traveler. ‘He means no harm. He hid until he could see that we were not pirates.’ He handed the knife to Meecham.
If the explanation was unsatisfactory, Arutha gave no sign. ‘What is your business here?’
The traveler spread his hands, with the staff in the crook of his left arm. ‘I abide here, Prince of Crydee. I should think that the question better serves me.’
The Prince stiffened at being addressed so, but after a tense moment relaxed. ‘If that is so, then you are correct, for we are the intruders. We came seeking relief from the solitary confines of the ship. Nothing more.’
The traveler nodded. ‘Then you are welcome at Villa Beata.’
Kulgan said, ‘What is Villa Beata?’
The traveler made a sweeping motion with his right hand. ‘This home is Villa Beata. In the language of the builders, it means “blessed home,” and so it was for many years. As you can see, it has known better days.’
Everyone was relaxing with the traveler, for they also felt a reassurance in his easy manner and friendly smile. Kulgan said, ‘What of those who built this strange place?’
‘Dead . . . or gone. They thought this the Insula Beata, or Blessed Isle, when they first came here. They fled a terrible war, which changed the history of their world.’ His dark eyes misted over, as if the pain of remembering was great. ‘A great king died . . . or is thought to have died, for some say he may return. It was a terrible and sad time. Here they sought to live in peace.’
‘What happened to them?’ asked Pug.
The traveler shrugged. ‘Pirates, or goblins? Sickness, or madness? Who can tell? I saw this home as you see it now, and those who lived here were gone.’
Arutha said, ‘You speak of strange things, friend traveler. I know little of such, but it seems that this place has been deserted for ages. How is it you knew those who lived here?’
The traveler smiled. ‘It is not so long ago as you would imagine, Prince of Crydee. And I am older than I look. It comes from eating well and bathing regularly.’
Meecham had been studying the stranger the entire time, for of all those who had come ashore, his was the most suspicious nature. ‘And what of the Black One? Does he not trouble you?’
The traveler looked over his shoulder at the top of the castle. ‘Macros the Black? The magician and I have little cause to be at odds. He suffers me the run of the island, as long as I don’t interfere with his work.’
A suspicion crossed Pug’s mind, but he said nothing, as the traveler continued. ‘Such a powerful and terrible sorcerer has little to fear from a simple hermit, I’m sure you’ll agree.’ He leaned forward and added in conspiratorial tones, ‘Besides, I think much of his reputation is inflated and overboasted, to keep intruders away. I doubt he is capable of the feats attributed to him.’
Arutha said, ‘Then perhaps we should visit this sorcerer.’
The hermit looked at the Prince. ‘I don’t think you would find a welcome at the castle. The sorcerer is oftentimes preoccupied with his work and suffers interruption with poor grace. He may not be the mythical author of all the world’s ills that some imagine him to be, but he could still cause more trouble than it is worth to visit him. On the whole he is often poor company.’ There was a faint, wry hint of humor in his words.
Arutha looked around and said, ‘I think we have seen all of interest we are likely to. Perhaps we should return to the ship.’
When none disagreed, the Prince said, ‘What of you, friend traveler?’
The stranger spread his hands in a general gesture. ‘I continue my habit of solitude, Your Highness. I have enjoyed this small visit, and the boy’s news of the occurrences of the world outside, but I doubt that you would find me tomorrow if you were to seek me.’
It was evident he was unlikely to provide any more information, and Arutha found himself growing irritated with the man’s obscure answers. ‘Then we bid you farewell, traveler. May the gods watch over you.’
‘And you as well, Prince of Crydee.’
As they turned to leave, Pug felt something trip his ankle, and he fell hard against Kulgan. Both went down in a tangle of bodies, and the traveler helped the boy up. Meecham and Gardan assisted the stout mage to his feet. Kulgan put weight upon his foot and started to fall. Arutha and Meecham grabbed him. The traveler said, ‘It appears your ankle is turned, friend magician. Here.’ He held out his staff. ‘My staff is stout oak and will bear your weight as you return to the ship.’
Kulgan took the offered staff and put his weight on it. He took an experimental step and found that he could negotiate the path with the aid of the staff. ‘Thank you, but what of yourself?’
The stranger shrugged. ‘A simple staff, easily replaced, friend magician. Perhaps I shall have the opportunity of reclaiming it