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| - “Rendil, you best be home by sunset today,” instructed Milus. “And I don’t want you traipsing about after those Sages again.” “I will be home, papa. I promise.” Rendil looked up at his father giving him the quick, small smile that always seemed to melt Milus’ heart. Milus patted Rendil’s head and then quickly smoothed the shoulders of the boy’s tunic. “All right, off with you now. And no troublemaking, you hear?” “I know, papa.” And with that Rendil ran out of the smithy and down the cobbled road towards the city’s center. Milus watched until Rendil had turned the corner and then stepped back to the forge. “You worry too much, Milus,” said Elvara. “He is just a boy. How much trouble can he possibly make? Especially here in Targonor.” “You have no idea what he is capable of getting into. And Elvara, although I know you mean well, it won’t be until you have your own child that you can understand.” “I’m sorry, my friend. I know it has been difficult for you since you lost Marlene.” “It’s just that…well, she used to take care of him while I worked. I suppose I never really considered the amount of effort it takes to raise him.” Rendil’s shoulders visibly slumped as his face softened, revealing the sorrow he had carried for the past year. “I just miss her.” “I know you do.” Elvara walked over to Milus, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You’re my dear friend. Just let me know if I can help.” “I appreciate that. Thanks for offering.” Milus picked up his hammer from the anvil. “Now, these swords aren’t going to make themselves. Let’s get going.”
* * * Rendil loved the carefree days; the days of no chores, no schooling, and best of all, no hot and sweaty work carrying heavy iron through the smithy. The carefree days were his days to explore, to learn the things not taught in school. Rendil learned the most from observing. Often, he found a perch above an awning in the market square and watched the business of buying and selling. He also saw the nimble fingers of the thieves and cutpurses at work; the clever sleights of hand that switched one item for another while purchasing. He watched the subtle distractions created to help a partner steal a particularly juicy piece of fruit or a shiny locket from the jeweler’s carts. Rendil watched and noted the actions required for each larcenous feat. Several times, he even climbed down from his position and performed the maneuvers on an unsuspecting merchant. Each time he did this, he dared more by choosing a riskier target. So far, his luck, or his skill, had held out and he had not been caught. However, after each escapade, he felt guilty and would find a way to return the recently purloined item to its rightful owner. For Rendil, it wasn’t about the theft. It was about perfecting the skills. He didn’t want the items nor did he steal for gain. Stealing meant nothing to him; it was the drive for understanding, the wish to know exactly what the thieves’ actions felt like that led him to practice their arts. One of his other favorite groups to watch was the Sages Arcane. The long colored robes they wore, the books they carried, the snippets of conversations they engaged in, all fascinated him. It was as if they lived in another world apart from everyone else. Rendil wanted to understand their lofty speech and pierce their heads-in-the-cloud oblivion, to find out why they seemed so different. On this day, Rendil made his way up a favorite alleyway just off the market square, along the road towards a back entrance into the Sages Academy. He heard some voices coming from the other end of the alley. Working his way along the shadows, he was finally able to see two sages standing close together, conversing in hushed tones. One was dressed in a dark gray robe, his long hair pulled back into a ponytail held by a leather cord. The other, taller than the first, wore a red robe. Most of their conversation was in whispers but Rendil could sometimes pick out words here and there. The Sages were talking about some theory on magic. The subjects of several overheard snippets revolved around spell casting and secret books and words of powers. From time to time, the pair of Sages would look about them to make sure no one was near. Each time they did, Rendil would creep further into the shadows of the alley to avoid discovery. His eavesdropping so engrossed him that he failed to hear the near silent footsteps behind him. However, the open-handed slap to the back of his head certainly got his attention. “What are you doing skulking here?” asked the newcomer. “Are you spying on my brother Sages?” The stranger grabbed hold of Rendil’s tunic and held him firmly in front of him. Rendil could still not see his captor. Instead, he cast his eyes downward at the ground while furiously running through scenarios of escape in his mind. “Fellows, I think we have a spy here. Come look.” The two Sages he had been watching turned in Rendil’s direction. One of them said, “Who’s there? And what are you babbling about?” “Oh sorry, didn’t realize you couldn’t see me. I’m Golath,” said the Sage behind Rendil. “I just caught this boy watching you two. I think he’s a spy.” “A spy you say?” replied the first Sage. “Now why would a boy like him be interested in us or what we say? Let him g--,” The other Sage placed his hand on the arm of the speaker and whispered something to him. The second sage then began to speak. “Thank you for warning us of this possible spy. I don’t think there are many spies about the alleys of Targonor interested in the scholarly jousting of two such as us. However, you can never be sure. He does look harmless but we shall see.” The Sage walked into the alley and stopped in front of Rendil. “Now, let’s get a look at you.” Golath released his hold on Rendil and the Sage placed his hand on Rendil’s shoulder and leaned down to look at the boy’s face. “What’s your name?” “Rendil, sir.” “Address me as Master, not sir. Why were you in this alley? Were you following us?” Rendil did his best to try to calm his nerves. This situation was not turning out the way he intended. “No, sir, I mean Master. I was looking for my cat in the alley here. She ran away.” “Your cat?” The Sage stood up. “I think not. There’s no cat here. You’re lying to me! One last chance, boy. What were you doing?” The Sage towered over Rendil, his voice taking on a tone that clearly showed the authority and command he was used to. “I…I was watching you. I’m sorry,” choked Rendil. “Why?” “I don’t know. I just watch people who are interesting.” The first tears slid down his cheek. “Did someone tell you to watch us? Someone dressed like us?” “No, Master. No one. I just like watching people.” The Sage stood quietly for several seconds just staring intently at the boy. Those seconds felt like an eternity to Rendil. “I believe you. You are telling me the truth now. I can tell by your face.” Turning to Golath, who had moved away from the back of Rendil to the side of the Sage, he said, “Take him home. Tell his parents what he did and instruct them to keep him away from Sages.” Looking back at Rendil he added, “Bad things can happen to spies!” The sage added, “Thank you again, Golath, for your…vigilance. If there is anything I can do to repay your assistance, please ask. I am Dorrin Longreat, and my associate is Vinton Mepson. You can find me most days within the Academy.” “You are most welcome, Dorrin,” said Golath. “I will certainly let you know.” Grabbing a hold of Rendil’s hand, Golath turned back down the alley. “Come along, Rendil. We have an appointment with your parents.” Dorrin watched them disappear out the far end of the alley and then walked back to Vinton. “Dorrin, do you think he understood anything we were talking about?” “You mean the boy? I doubt it. But if he did, we will know soon enough. I do have one task for you though.” “What is it?” “Find out more about this Golath. There is no reason he should have been here. It’s too convenient. As for the boy, he is my responsibility. That is one boy I will be watching very closely.”
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