Story for the Day: The Cat and the Wizard
Mr Vostibbens, the teahouse cat, has many acquaintances, but his most pressing call is the one he makes to Haryld, one of the last wizards of Marridon:
The milkman’s cart rattled along the cobbles, the rag and
bone man brought his bags in to be sorted, the sharpener took his bell down
from the jaunty, and through the davering gaits of laymen and
labourers leaving their
stations, Mr Vostibbens tittupped across the main square toward the fountain.
He stopped to drink and glean the commendations from passing ladies about his
cravat, and once he was amused enough, he pranced across to the wizard’s row,
where the old men and their apprentices were storing their wares and taking
down their tables for the day. A sharp look from a raven and a gawp from an owl
was the worst censure he endured as he passed, but companions nowadays were not
the same as they once were—a noble position, one to be revered and respected,
not one to be filled up by the dregs of animal life -- and Mr Votibbens ignored
the glaring condescension of the inferior ranks, pitying them for their
mistaken sense of ascendancy when they had done nothing to deserve their
situation. He had always been a companion, and though his first master had
gone, he should be a companion still; he must carry himself and act as though
his master were not far off, and while he disregarded the envious stares and
would consciously remember to forget them, he held his tail and head high, honoured
to reflect the office he had so long held and pleased to show those who could
never earn or love the position how a wizard’s companion ought to behave.
He went
to the last house in the row, and there, crambling around his table and putting
his potions away was an old wizard, who was noggling about with the aid of a
particular staff. He miffled to himself, riffling through his various trinkets with an air of
confusion, and glanced down at the gold pommel of his staff momentarily, to
catch his reflection looking back at him.
“I
think I have polished you too much,” said the wizard, scrutinizing his staff.
“You make me look at myself, and I have not been interested in appearances
these many years. I suppose I should be glad you are come back to me, and let
you reflect me all you like, even to my dismay. I’m an old man anyhow, and very
soon nobody shall mind what I look like. Where did I put that charisma potion?
Ah, here it is. They do work, of
course-- I should know, I made them— and yet I have never been tempted to them,
nor has anyone come to buy them since I put them out. I cannot understand why.
I have seen many faces that could use one-- oh, hello,” glancing down to the
cat at his feet. “Come to make your call, have you? Well, look what’s just come
back to me this very day,” giving his staff a flourish. “Yes, you guessed
right. The captain brought it back to me, just as I said he would do,” and
then, in a more serious hue, “My Lady watch over him and his crew,” raising his
eyes and holding the staff to his heart. “May his deeds be justly rewarded,” and
then, rallying himself and returning to his usual conviviality, “So, are you
come to join me for dinner?”
The cat
looked expectant and licked its lips.
“Well,
you are dressed for it, certainly. I had not meant it to be a dinner party, but
if you will treat it as a formal dinner, I shall not stop you. And how lovely
your cravat is, Mr Vostibbens,” the wizard proclaimed, reaching down and
touching the starched cloth. “Did the haberdasher do it up for you, or was it
the tailor? It is very well made.”
There
was a pause, and the cat pawed the wizard’s leg.
“Yes, I
agree. I think Beldynn would approve it. It does look very well on you, but
finery always did. All the nice things that Beldynn used to put on you. What?
Do not look to me as though Beldynn’s going off was my doing. I will not be
held accountable for his having gone so far. If he wanted you dressed every
day, he should have taken you with him, but you know him. He is eccentric and
odd as any of us. Me? Well, I certainly was not going to dress you once he’d
gone. Tabytha is much better suited to cosset you. She is rather an
ostentatious sort of woman, but she is a very compassionate and good one, upon
the whole. Do not glare at me, Mr Vostibbens. I meant no disparagement to
Tabytha when I said ostentatious. She is a lady after all, and ladies generally
know what is best.” He paused and focused on the cat,and after receiving some intelligence, he continued, “Oh, you saw them, did you? Well, that’s your own
doing. Who told you to be so absolutely curious? Beldynn never taught you to be
such a prying-tom, but he never did bring home anybody to skulk away with
himself.”
A meow
succeeded here, and the wizard’s wooly brows arched.
“How is
Beldynn? Oh, he is pretty well, I daresay—as well is anyone can be in such a
frigid country. Why did he have to chose Frewyn, of all places? There was no
need for him to cross the sea. He only need go across the country, if he wanted
to escape from this house. He knows I will never visit him there. The snows are
enough to kill any man. What honourable country has snow for seven months of
the year? I know you may like it, but it is unnatural for snow to fall in
droves. A light blanket dusting the countryside is all anybody should ask for.
I am not as young as I once was. The cold whips through my bones—the heat, too,
bothers me. I have no idea how you suffer it with such a thick coat. It is
uncommonly warm today,” looking suspiciously at the sky. “No, I do not think
Jenkynn had anything to do with it. At least, not this time. He is doing well,
though I know you did not ask. I’m telling you anyway.”
The cat
licked its paw and rubbed it over its ears, and the old man gowled and looked
offended.
“Yes,
well,” said the wizard cooly, “you might not care about Jenkynn, but I’m proud
of both my sons, so let me proud of them equally, and that is all. They are
both highly accomplished and good boys. Beldynn has got his students now, and
Jenkynn has got his first companion.” He paused and looked mindful. “No, I
should not worry, if I were you. I do not think Beldynn shall have another
companion again while he is away. I know I certainly could not have more than
one companion at a time. Ms Byra never would have allowed it.” He stopped and
quirked a brow. “What do you mean, she was a fusspot? Well, yes, she was
officious, but she was my companion, and she was excellent company to me after
Hettie passed on. She was a little nattish betimes, I grant you, but she was a
somebody to talk to. You cannot blame a wizard for wanting a companion, Mr
Vostibbens, just as you cannot blame an old man for being lonely.”
And he
was lonely, more lonely than a heart so deserted by those he loved would dare
confess. Solitudinary habits and fearful isolation was a wizard’s sufferance; their
work required all the quietude that a study and an endless stack of ancient
tomes admitted. Vellum and inkstands spoke more than words and voices did in a
day, and where staves and the secrets of the Old Kingdom reigned, the centuries
of suppression must follow. The wizard spent the chief of his day with his
beakers and books, rapt in rumination over the mysteries of Mlys, whilst idle
patrons treated those in his profession as a national curiosity, and with his
sons, his wife, and his companion gone, there was little more for the wizard to
do but wait for a pilferer or a caller, whichever came first, and send letters
to his sons, who returned the correspondence sparingly now that they were on
their own. A new apprentice should keep him well engaged and make the day more
lively, but animation was never recommended for his time of life, and though he
would teach anyone who wished to learn the Olde Ways, too few had any interest.
The captain was right: in a country that prided itself on commerce and economy,
there was little time for the arcane, and though the wizard’s residence was
hardly in dilapidation, it was not what a man of business would occupy.
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