Elemental Worlds Collection: The Complete Series

Excerpt from Elemental Worlds Collection

Two days after Pettic had returned from Aeris he went as usual to eat his midday meal with the royal children and their nurse in the nursery. Although they were now grown up, Torren, Pettic and Lucenra liked to return to the nursery, much as other grown up children liked to return home from time to time.

During the meal, Pettic received a message from the king. The young man opened it and found a letter asking him to go to see Torren at the monastery where he had been sent as a punishment for his treatment of two young girls.

Pettic replied he would go the very next day as it would take almost a day to get there. He would have to stay overnight, of course, but since it was still three weeks until the next possible passage to another of the elemental worlds, it would be no problem.

The next day saw Pettic riding out of the city gates. He decided not to take his dog, Cledo, much to that animal's disgust, because of his reaction to the false Torren. He did not want to give any excuses to Torren to have his dog put down.

He found it a lonely ride without his faithful companion, and by the time he arrived at the monastery the sun had long passed its zenith and was descending towards the horizon.

The monastery was in a beautiful setting, chosen deliberately by the monks for that very reason. The hills rolled away in all directions and as it was now summer, farmers laboured in the fields getting in their harvest. The sun shone down making the little streams he crossed glint and glitter.

Pettic found the day was made him feel more optimistic about his success at reconciling himself with the false Torren. After all, this impostor was here to try to be the prince, and he ought to try to like the prince's friends.

Pettic rode in through the gates of the monastery and a monk ran to take his horse. Another came up to conduct him to the visitors' reception room.

A third monk showed him into a sparsely furnished room. The stone built monastery had no tapestries on the walls to add comfort and a little warmth and the chairs were hard wooden ones with no cushions.

He told the monk he was there to see Prince Torren.

`I'm afraid the king's orders are that no one is to be allowed to see Brother Torren, My Lord,' replied the monk, deferentially.

`I've come at the request of the king,' Pettic told him. `I've a letter here to that effect.'

The monk took the letter, read it, then smiled. `My apologies, My Lord.' I'll send for Brother Torren right away.'

He disappeared through a door opposite the one Pettic came through.

Pettic stood and walked over to a window next to the entrance door. It looked out onto the courtyard where he had entered. He watched his horse being unsaddled and taken to the stables. Shortly the opposite door opened and Torren appeared.

Pettic thought he looked a little haggard. His dark hair seemed limp and a little lighter than before, and he walked with a bit of a stoop.

`Oh, Pettic,' he said, `I'm glad to see you. It's so-o boring here. Nothing but praying. Prayers in the morning, prayers at lunch, prayers in the afternoon, prayers at dinner, prayers before bed time, and would you believe it, they even get us up in the night for more prayers. I've said enough prayers to last me for the rest of my life. I swear I'll never, ever pray again.'

He sat down heavily in a chair before continuing.

`Then, as if that isn't enough, between the incessant prayers we have to meditate. Meditate on our failings, meditate on our sins, meditate on how we can improve our lives etc. etc. etc.'

`Hello, Torren. I won't ask you how you are then. I've just got back from my business trip and heard you were here, so I've come to visit.'

`How did you get the monks to let you see me? Father said I wasn't to see anyone.'

`I prevailed on your father to let me come,' Pettic twisted the truth a bit here, but Torren didn't seem to notice that it was unlikely the king would allow himself to be persuaded by a mere earl.

`Thank you. Now, what's the news from court?'

The pair sat down and began to chat. Pettic told him what he could about the happenings at court, but having been away himself, he was a little behind on the latest gossip. Prince Torren did not seem to mind though. He was avid for news of any sort.

Just at that moment the door opened and the monk who had admitted Pettic entered, followed by another man. In spite of the heat of the summer's evening, he was wrapped from head to foot in a white robe with a white cloak draped around it and a hood over his head. The hood fell forwards so his face was obscured in shadow. He bowed to the two young men and sat down on one of the chairs.

`Who's he?' whispered Pettic. `He looks strange. What's that garb he's wearing.'

The stranger looked towards them and to Pettic's embarrassment answered the question he had asked.

`My name is Umberli. I'm from a land far from yours. It's called Aran. My “garb” as you call it, is my national dress. It's very hot in Aran and we dress thus to keep out the heat.'

`My apologies,' said Pettic. `I didn't mean to be rude.'

The stranger bowed. `I accept your apologies, young man,' he said. `Youth is often thoughtless.' He then relapsed into silence.

The abbot allowed Torren to skip the evening prayers and to eat dinner with Pettic. It was a sparse meal compared with those at the palace, of course, and although adequate, it did not please Torren at all. He said this meal, made for visitors, was a feast compared with the other meals he had here, but even this was scarcely edible.

Pettic sighed inwardly. The Torren he grew up with would never have complained like this. Still, he was doing what the king asked, even if he was not enjoying it very much.

After the meal, Torren surprisingly begged Pettic to excuse him. He had something to do. Pettic raised his eyebrows at this, and he became a little suspicious when he saw the man from Aran walking out of the courtyard and into the stables, followed very shortly by Torren.

Pettic, of course, slunk after them and entered the stables by a back door. He was just in time to hear the words of magic being muttered over Torren's ring, suspended in a contraption like the one Blundo had in his rooms.

Umberli handed the ring back to Torren who put it back on his finger. The young man seemed to visibly change. His lank hair became much more glossy and darker and he stood up proudly, like a prince.

It seemed that this “man from Aran” was the mysterious magician in disguise. Torren's ring had needed a boost of magic and so the man sneaked into the monastery disguised as a foreign traveller to give it to him because Torren could not get out.

Clever, thought Pettic.

The next morning, Pettic bid farewell to the prince and set off on the long ride back to the city. When he arrived back at the palace he went and told Lucenra about the visit of the “man from Aran”.

She agreed that it could be the same magician as had performed the magic previously, but then went on to say, `We mustn't discount the possibility that there are more people involved in this conspiracy. It may not have been the same man at all. You said you didn't see his face.'

They continued talking for some time but did not come to any conclusions.