Dark Tidings

Chapter 3 - A Tale to Tell

Clenching was Tung's involuntary reaction to the massive frustration welling up inside him. His teeth, fists and buttocks were now all firmly clenched. What evil had contrived to make him spend his last few hours on earth listening to the ravings of a demented old man? Unfortunately he had no choice but to listen. He was, literally, a captive audience.

"You'll find this hard to believe," Madrick began, "but I wasn't always known as a fantastic wizard."

Tung had no difficulty whatsoever believing it because he'd no idea who this idiot was. Of course he'd heard of the Royal Wizard, but it seemed highly unlikely that this old fool was a royal anything, except maybe a right royal cock-up. Say nothing, he told himself, the story might be a short one.

"I wasn't the worst apprentice in the Sorebun Sorcery Academy," Madrick continued, "but it would be fair to say I was never the pointiest arrow in the quiver. Then things changed. Then something special happened."

Something special? What special thing could happen to a wizard which would interest him? He could see the old man's lips moving but all he was hearing was blah, blah, blah. He forced himself back into focus. Wizards could be very nasty when someone annoyed them.

"... was exploring a forgotten corner of the school library, right at the back, where it was quieter than a tomb and darker than a wolf's mouth. I sensed that my epic search would soon be over. I felt it in my waters, this was the day I'd find the Holy Grail, the treasure of all treasures - the librarian's secret wine store."

Wine? Tung wondered if the old man had a bottle or two hidden under his cloak. A few glugs might make the story a bit more interesting. A gnat fluttered past his face and interrupted his train of thought. Ironic, because Tung had the attention span of a gnat. He watched it flit on its random flight path and wondered what gnats thought about all day. Only once it had drifted out of sight into a dark corner, did Tung drift back to reality. Dear Lord, the old man was still talking.

"... climbed on a few stacked tomes so I could search the highest shelves. I pushed some large volumes aside and peered through the gap, and that's when I discovered it."

"The wine?"

"No. Right at the back of that dusty, top shelf was a large, decaying map scroll. I stretched into the darkness and lifted it down. I brushed the cobwebs off and untied the red strip of leather which bound the ancient map. As I unrolled the parchment, a smaller, less significant looking scroll slid out and fell to my feet. It was a spell scroll. No one was around to see me, so I slipped it inside my robe and rushed back to my room at full pelt. Can you imagine how excited I was?"

"I can imagine," remarked Tung who couldn't imagine it at all, his idea of excitement always involved wine, women and boisterous song. It looked like there was to be no hidden booze, and this story didn't even have a tune. This was even less exciting than watching witches burn, at least smouldering witches smelt good. 

"Once back in the privacy of my own room, I examined my little treasure. All sorts of thoughts flashed through my mind. What could the spell be? The Gold Spell? The Kill Spell? I moved the yellowed parchment closer to my candle. The Thunderbolt Spell? The All-Seeing-Eye Spell? In the flickering candlelight, I read the words on the ancient parchment."

Trance-like, Tung watched the old man and tried to work out where this was going. He'd a sneaking suspicion that, wherever it was going, it was going to take a long time to get there.

"What was the wretched spell? Tell me right now or you can finish telling your story to the rats."

"Be patient my young friend, I'm coming to that."