A Short Story
Every 100 years the kingdom has a lottery to determine who will be the new wizard. When a simple farm boy wins the lottery and becomes the kingdom’s new wizard, he tries to fix deceptions perpetrated by the previous wizard. But will he succeed when the previous, dark wizard is in his head, controlling all of his actions?
Average Reading Time: 15 – 22 minutes (about 5,400 words)
Wizard Lottery
Chuck Heintzelman
Copyright © 2011 by Chuck Heintzelman
I had never seen so many people around the castle. Street merchants were selling everything from multicolored fabrics to jewelry and other trinkets, from eggs to lamb-cuts, from farm tools to pots and pans. They filled the streets outside the castle with their tables and tents, making passage to the castle courtyard near impossible. Others, besides the merchants, also clogged the streets. There were men walking on stilts and performers juggling, clowns making children laugh and musicians playing instruments of every shape and size. People everywhere. They were standing, talking, laughing, and spending coin. It was a carnival. The wizard lottery only happened once a century.
Still, too many people. I prefer wide, open country over crowds of people.
I hadn’t been near the castle in a year and wouldn’t be here now except the king required it. Every fourteen year old girl and boy had to assemble in the castle courtyard for the lottery.
“Boy, watch yourself.”
I spun around. A tall man, cornstalk thin, glared at me. He held a half eaten turkey leg and pointed at my feet with it. I had stepped on a scattering of pellets, feed of some type. A few feet away, under a table, cowered a small white goat.
“Sorry,” I said, stepping backwards.
Continuing to back away, I tripped over a rope tied to a peg in the ground. The rope connected to a pole supporting the canopy over a merchant’s table. I scrambled to my feet and reached for the pole. Too late. The canopy collapsed onto the table. Angry shouts came from under the canopy.
I jogged away, glancing over my shoulder as I ran. The man with the turkey leg still glared.
Walls surrounded the castle’s courtyard on three sides. Twenty feet above the center wall was a balcony from which the king could look down upon the courtyard. Along the rightmost wall, stone steps extended from the ground to the balcony. I wouldn’t want to climb them. There was no hand rail, nothing to keep you from falling off the side if you tripped—which I tended to do. Half the courtyard, the half closest to the balcony, was cordoned off with ropes. A row of guards, dressed in their bright blue uniforms with shiny brass buttons, stood in front of the ropes. There must have been two hundred kids behind the guards. I didn’t know there were that many fourteen year olds in the kingdom.
I approached the group of kids.
A guard held up a hand for me to halt. “Name?”
“Tayte, son of Barwick,” I said.
The guard scanned a list, found my name, and stepped aside, revealing a gap in the rope. I stepped through the gap into the crowd and scanned the faces, trying to find somebody I knew. I saw Rachain, a boy from a neighboring village. My father traded oats and hay with his father. I turned away, not wanting to talk to this annoying braggart.
That’s when I spotted Gytha. Her family worked the next farm over. She hadn’t noticed me yet and I took a moment to admire her. As usual, her red hair extended halfway down her back in a long braid. She turned, saw me, and smiled. “Tayte.”
For a moment her green eyes captured mine and I couldn’t respond. Finally, I found my tongue. “Ho, Gytha.”
She bounded to me, reached out and mussed my hair. “I see you still fear the barber’s scissors.”
I jerked away. “Why mess with perfection?”
“You call a stringy mop perfection?” She smiled. “Isn’t all of this amazing?”
“Not the word I’d use.”
She cocked her head at me.
I sighed. “I don’t want to be here. Pa’s got to get in the hay on the north field before it rains or the crop’s lost.”
She held a hand over her eyes, shielding them from the sun. “Not a cloud in the sky.”
“And ma’s getting worse. She can’t even get out of bed now.”
She put a hand on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
“I pray I’m not selected,” I said.
“Seriously? Imagine what good you could do as wizard.”
“How could I help pa if I’m forced to stay here and do the king’s bidding?”
She punched me in the shoulder. “You need to think of using something other than your muscles.”
A trumpet sounded. I looked up at the balcony. On a small dais stood King Leofric. The color of his scraggly beard matched his golden crown. He wore a red robe and his belly, as big as a sack of grain, protruded through the robe’s front. Queen Heloise, a tall, thin woman, stood to the king’s right. She stifled a yawn. To the king’s left stood Ealdred the Wise.
I had never set eyes on the wizard before. He dressed entirely in black. A high, starched collar extended behind his head. His face seemed wax-like, without a single wrinkle betraying his advanced age. His hair looked like sun-bleached straw. In front of his chest he held his hands, fingertips touching. A scowl clouded the wizard’s face.
Revulsion swept through me.
The trumpet stopped and the king spoke. “Dear Citizens. Today we continue the tradition passed down through countless generations and select a new wizard to guide me and future kings for the next hundred years. And for the first time in history, young women as well as men have been added to the lottery.”
He glanced at the queen. She smiled at him. Ealdred’s scowl seemed to darken.
“Now,” the king said, “without further ado. Let’s select Ealdred the Wise’s successor.”
The wizard moved his hands apart and a large glass bowl appeared in them.
The crowd gasped.
Inside the bowl, tiny pieces of parchment swirled as if an invisible spoon stirred the bowl’s contents. The wizard held the bowl out to the king and the swirling stopped. The king reached inside and retrieved a single piece of paper.
The wizard looked directly at me and his upper lip curled.
The king unfolded the parchment. “Our kingdom’s next wizard is Tayte, son of Barwick.”
It felt as though a donkey had kicked me. I couldn’t breathe.
The crowd cheered.
“Where is Tayte, son of Barwick,” the king asked.
Still numb, I didn’t respond. Gytha grabbed my hand, thrust it high into the air, and waived it back and forth. “Here he is, your majesty.”
The king waved a hand and the guard stationed at the foot of the balcony stairs marched toward me.
“Congratulations,” Gytha said. “You are so lucky.”
I stared mutely at her. Gytha looked happy, but behind the happiness I detected something else. Disappointment maybe? She had wanted to be the first woman wizard.
The guard reached me and put his arm around my shoulders, attempting to steer me toward the staircase. I balked, ducked under his arm, and put my fists up. The other fourteen year olds crowded around us.
“Tayte,” Gytha said, “What is wrong with you?”
Her words snapped me out of it. I didn’t want this, but to turn it down or try to escape would be a great insult to the king. I lowered my fists. “Sorry, reflex,” I said to the guard.
“Follow me,” the guard said.
He strode toward the stairs. The crowd parted in front of him.
Gytha shoved me after him. “Go. Don’t be stupid.”
I followed the guard up the stairs while thinking through my options. I couldn’t escape my fate. I would be the next wizard and wouldn’t be able to help pa on the farm. As he got older he’d probably lose the place. And ma. With my new responsibilities how often would I be able to see her before she died? My future had seemed certain before the lottery. Now my life was no longer my own. Maybe I could ask the king for help to take care of my family.
We reached the top of the stairs. The guard gripped my shoulder and guided me next to the king. I looked down, amazed at the size of the crowd. A sea of people stretched out from the courtyard into the streets. All eyes were upon me, their soon-to-be wizard. I felt no nervousness. Instead, I felt relief. The king would surely help. Maybe this was the best thing to happen. Gytha was right. I could help my family in more ways than just working on the farm. I had hope.
The king placed an arm around my shoulder in a fatherly way and we both faced the crowd.
“At dawn,” he said, “we will have the transfer ceremony and Tayte, son of Barwick will become Tayte the Wise.”
I wanted to ask the king to help my family but before I had a chance a short man came up to me and took my hand. The man was almost as wide as he was tall. His yellow hair curled into ringlets which were plastered against his sweaty brow.
“Tayte,” the king said, “Cleland will see to your preparations.”
“I—“ , I began.
“—Ohh,” said Cleland, lifting my arm up, examining me. “You are a muscley one, aren’t you?” He winked at me and tugged me forward. “Come, you gorgeous boy, we have much to do.”
Cleland led me into the castle, into a small room with stacks of fabric, a sewing machine, and several mannequins with suits and dresses in various stages of assembly. He pulled me over in front of a window. “Let me look at you.”
I felt like a prize calf on display.
“Turn around, sweetie. I need to see you from all angles.”
I turned around. “Mister, uh, Cleland—“
“—Just Cleland.”
“Cleland, I need to see the king.”
“Around again, slowly this time with your arms above your head.”
I lifted my arms up while turning.
“Ooh, not much fat on you is there? All muscle and hair.” He reached out to touch my hair.
I knocked his hand away.
“Ooh, feisty. I’m thinking green. Light green leggings and blouse. A dark green velvet robe.” He looked around as if afraid someone might hear him. “Black for a wizard is so last century. Green symbolizes new beginnings. Springtime. Mustn’t forget pockets. A wizard must have many, many pockets.”
“I need to see the king,” I repeated.
“Sweetie, the king sees you. You don’t see him. Don’t move.”
“Cleland produced a measuring tape and measured my chest, my waist, my hips. He moved my arm down and measured from shoulder to wrist and then from armpit to wrist. He measured from hips to floor and then reached his hand up between my legs.
I stepped back, raising a fist.
“Easy boy,” Cleland said. “I need to get your numbers. You don’t have anything there I haven’t felt a hundred times before.” He winked at me again.
“I want to see the queen.” Maybe she could help my family.
“Why?” Demanded a smooth voice from behind me.
I spun around. Ealdred stood next to the window, arms across his chest. Had he just appeared there? I hadn’t seen him open the door or cross the room.
“Leave us tailor,” Ealdred said.
“Cleland bowed, backing away from the wizard. He disappeared out the door.
“Why do you want the queen?” he asked.
“My ma’s ill and my pa’s getting old. I wanted to make sure they’d be taken care of.”
Ealdred laughed. It was soft and gentle. I’d have thought he’d have a crazy, maniacal laugh.
“I’m worried how they’ll get along without me.”
“Don’t bother the queen with such trivialities,” he said.
“Would I have the power, after the ceremony, to take care of them?”
“Boy,” he said, “after tomorrow you won’t exist.”
~
I spent the rest of the afternoon with Cleland. He measured me again. Then I waited, bored to death. Eventually he returned and I tried on the clothes he created. Then I had to wait again while he made adjustments. I tried to leave Cleland’s room but a guard stopped me. I was a prisoner until the transfer ceremony.
Finally, Cleland deemed my clothing finished and he took me up a flight of stairs to my room.
“Rest up,” he said. “Tomorrow is a very busy day.”
I took in my surroundings. The room was small. A large bed occupied most of the room’s space. A fruit basket sat on the dresser next to a candle. Mounted on either side of the door were more candles. It wasn’t yet dark enough for the candles to be lit. The room’s single window opened to the west and let the sunset’s feeble light into the room. I looked out the window. A field below me contained archery targets, jousting dummies, and other contraptions whose purpose I couldn’t fathom. A couple sheds were on one edge of the field and on the opposite end was the backside of a large, wooden barn—horse stables I presumed.
Sighing, I selected an apple from the basket and took a bite. The sweet juice filled my mouth. I opened the door and peered out.
“Can I help you, sir?” asked a guard posted outside my door.
“Thought I’d take a walk,” I said.
“You must remain in your room. Ealdred’s orders.”
I shut my door, turned around, and hurled the apple against the wall. It burst into pieces.
I wasn’t even tired and they expected me lie down and sleep like a good little dog. Why had the gods cursed me into winning the lottery? I grabbed another apple, hefted it and cocked my arm back, ready to throw it with all my might. Instead I just let the apple roll from my fingers.
What were my options? There wasn’t an opponent I could fight. Just fate and how does one fight fate? I could escape and live my life somewhere far away, but then what would become of my family?
What would happen during the transfer ceremony? I had the vague knowledge that every hundred years the current wizard transfers all his knowledge to his successor. What would happen to Ealdred after the transfer? More importantly, what would happen to me? Ealdred had said I wouldn’t exist. Was I just a fresh body for him to occupy? Surely, even if tomorrow meant my death they’d take care of my family.
I picked up the apple I had dropped and plopped onto the bed. What will be will be. There was nothing I could do. Hopefully things would work out but I had no control over the outcome.
After finishing the apple I tossed the core out the window and laid on the bed without bothering to undress or get under the blankets. I had done no physical work today, just hours of waiting and standing for Cleland, yet I was more tired than I would’ve been plowing a field all day.
Cleland didn’t seem to be a bad guy. Strange, yes, but harmless. Helpful even. Maybe in the morning I’d seek his advice.
I closed my eyes.
~
The next morning Cleland barged into my room, his mouth moving non-stop.
“Get up, Boy. Much to do. Ooh, this is so exciting. People began gathering in the courtyard three hours ago. There’ll be thousands of spectators. Come now, get up.”
I swung my feet out of bed, sat up, and rubbed my eyes.
Cleland was a sight. He wore knee-length, green britches and a puffy, yellow shirt so bright it was hard to look at. Over the shirt he wore a white vest which seemed to be made entirely of feathers. He wore green, yellow, and white—our flag’s colors—and looked oddly patriotic.
“Let’s go, Tayte,” Cleland said. “Time’s wasting.”
I stood and stretched.
“Your clothing is ready.” He pointed next to the window at a mannequin dressed in the outfit he had created for me.
“Here.” He handed me a cup. “This tea will calm your nerves.”
I sipped the hot beverage. “What happens during the ceremony?”
“Ooh, it will be amazing. There are two platforms. You and Ealdred each lie on one. Then the transfer happens and you’ll receive all the knowledge of Ealdred and all those before him.”
I wanted to ask what would happen to Ealdred, but for some reason when I opened my mouth, nothing came up.
“When it is over,” Cleland continued, “you will be the new wizard and Ealdred will be no more.”
Again, I tried to speak, but was unable. Was it the tea?
“Come,” Cleland said, “you must get dressed.”
With Cleland’s help I dressed in the garbs he created for me.
After dressing, Cleland led me back to the balcony overlooking the courtyard. There were two platforms, one three feet higher than the other. Ealdred and I stood side-by-side in front of the king. He handed a silver cup to Ealdred, who drank the contents in one long draught. Then the king handed a silver cup to me.
I struggled not to drink, still unable to speak. I wanted to yell, to scream, to somehow let everyone know that something was wrong. Instead, my hands took the cup and placed it to my lips. I drank the contents. It tasted like chalky orange juice.
Below, in the courtyard, a swarm of people looked up at us. My father stood right in front. He had sloughed off farm work for the day and joined the festivities. He looked up at me and he seemed pleased. Maybe even proud.
Tears came to my eyes.
The king addressed the crowd. “Today, we celebrate the transfer of wizard knowledge from Ealdred the Wise to Tayte, son of Barwick.”
An attendant approached Ealdred and me. He held a golden rope before him. My arm shot out of its own accord. The attendant wrapped the rope around Ealdred’s and my arm, binding us together.
Then the attendant helped me to the platform. I lay on the top one and Ealdred on the lower, my arm dangling down and bound to Ealdred. The attendant tied me to the bed.
Reality seemed to move away from me. Clouds swirled in my mind. I felt needles in my skull and then a whooshing noise.
My body convulsed, my muscles repeatedly contracting. Finally, after jerking around for what seemed like hours, my body relaxed.
In my mind I felt a foreign presence—Ealdred.
Ealdred was in my head, more than that, he was in control. It was as if I were an observer, the invading mind, not him. I tried to open my eyes, they fluttered, opened for a second and snapped shut.
I heard Ealdred’s smooth voice from inside my head as clear as if he spoke it aloud. “Do not try to control me, boy.”
My eyes open, not because I willed it because Ealdred did. I looked around; a strange sensation. Normally, when you look at something you don’t think about it. You look and see what you’re looking at. Now that Ealdred controlled me I only saw what he wanted to see.
“Release me,” Ealdred said aloud in my voice.
The attendant rushed over and untied the rope and Ealdred sat me up and raised my arm.
The crowd cheered.
Ealdred caused me to look at his old body. It did not move. My eyes focused on Ealdred’s chest long enough to determine it did not breathe.
My arm was still held in the air and I tried to force it down. It came part way down and stopped. Ealdred willed my arm up while I willed it down.
“I can make a potion that will kill your mind,” Ealdred said in my head. “Fight me and I will do it. Don’t fight and you will have a long life, see wonderful things, and accomplish amazing feats.”
He spoke the truth. I knew the exact potion he spoke of. All knowledge Ealdred and past wizards knew—the wisdom of dozens of wizards over almost two thousand years—I now possessed. I relented and my arm shot back up.
The crowd cheered again.
My body climbed from the platform and stood beside the king.
Scanning my new shared memories I realized my name hadn’t been picked during the lottery, Gytha’s had. Ealdred had magicked the parchments to only reveal boy’s names. He did not want to possess a woman’s body for the next hundred years. Gytha should be the new wizard, not me.
The tea I had earlier had allowed Ealdred to control me.
Also, I discovered another of Ealdred’s deceptions. Past wizards faded to the background during the transfer ceremony, leaving the new wizard in charge, providing guidance for the new wizard. Ealdred had switch potions which allowed him to remain in control and forced me into the background.
This wasn’t right. Ealdred had duped everyone and now would live the next hundred years in my body.
Anger welled up from deep inside and I blurted out “Stop. A great injustice has occurred.” Ealdred took control of my mouth before I could say more.
“Fight me again,” he said, “and I will kill your father.”
“What injustice?” the king asked.
My body bowed low to the king. “Sorry, sir,” Ealdred said. “After the transfer there can be momentary confusion. All should be well in the next few hours.”
~
So began my life as a trapped observer. The injustice was maddening, but what could I do? I could not fight Ealdred for if I lost he would not hesitate to kill my father. Only a decisive win was worth the chance. My goal became to silently observe and wait for my opportunity.
The days became routine, morning counsel with the king, attending meetings and judgments, but most of my time was spent in the laboratory atop the castle. Shelves filled every wall of the laboratory. Two shelves were packed with substances ranging from centipede legs to common wheat flour, every possible ingredient required in potion making. Another wall contained nothing but books, from ancient, thick tomes to single parchments. A window in the ceiling allowed sun and moon and, when needed, rain to come through to imbue concoctions with elemental forces.
I waited, convinced I had a only single chance for freedom, but not knowing when the chance would occur. Each day my hope dimmed.
Almost three weeks passed before the opportunity presented itself. The king requested a truth serum to help him interrogate a spy. I watched myself prepare the ingredients, Ealdred guiding my hands. Even though I had never prepared a single potion in my life, it felt as if I had created such concoctions thousands of times.
Once I completed the truth potion I took it to the interrogation chamber. The king and several guards stood around a naked man strapped in a chair. The man’s back was crisscrossed with bloody welts.
“Ah, Tayte,” the king said. “You have the serum?”
“Yes, my lord,” Ealdred answered.
Here was my chance. If I failed it would mean the death of my father, but I couldn’t dwell on possible failure. I forced my will into the act of bringing the truth serum bottle to my lips and drinking it. My sudden action caught Ealdred off guard and I was able to swallow two big gulps before he struggled for control. This was only half of my plan.
I continued to struggle with the arm holding the bottle. A battle I knew I would lose, but which would distract Ealdred from my next attack. My arm jerked back and forth before finally dropping the bottle.
“Stupid boy, your father is as good as dead,” Ealdred said in my mind.
He turned my body to face the king. “Sorry, your majesty—“
“—Question me about the lottery,” I managed to gasp, tearing control of my voice from Ealdred.
The king’s face was redder than usual. His mouth agape.
Ealdred regained control. “Again, sorry your majesty. As I told you there is always a small period of adjustment following the transfer.”
“It’s been three weeks,” the king said.
I tried again to control my body, but Ealdred was too strong. We struggled, jerking my body in spasms. We fell onto my knees. The sharp pain from the stone floor jarred me. It must have interfered with Ealdred’s control for I was once again able to gasp, “Question me about the transfer.”
The king sprang to action. He pointed at me. “Guards, seize him.”
Guards grabbed my arms and raised me to my feet.
The king approached. “What happened at the lottery?”
Ealdred answered. “The new wizard was selected.”
“What is it you want to tell me?”
“Nothing, sir.” Ealdred tried to bow my body, but the guards held firm.
“What are you hiding about the lottery?” the king asked.
Ealdred bit my lip, bringing tears to my eyes.
“You must answer. What are you hiding?”
I tried answering and Ealdred did not prevent me. “Tayte was not selected, the name you picked was Gytha.”
“What?”
Ealdred seemed to have given up control. I told the king everything I could. “Sir, Ealdred switched the name because he didn’t want to be in a woman’s body. Then he switched the potion between me and him so he’d have control and I’d be forced to watch without doing anything. My strange behavior is not normal. I’ve been trying to regain control of my body.”
“If he switched the potion wouldn’t you have went into his body?” the king asked.
“No,” I said. “The potion softens the spirit which travels to body closest to the heavens. We were bound with the golden cord, enabling the transfer, but my body was above his on the platform.”
As I talked, the guards loosened their grip on me. Slowly, my hands came toward each other, fingers contorted in a strange gesture. Ealdred was making a hand incantation, subtly so as to go unnoticed.
The moment my hands touched a white light spread out, hitting the king and two guards. Ealdred twisted my body around and the light hit the remaining guard before disappearing. The king and his guards fell down, instantly asleep.
“Stupid boy,” Ealdred said. “Did you really think you could outsmart me? What a mess you have caused.”
I fought for control, but Ealdred was expecting it and resisted. I backed off trying to control my whole body and instead attempted to bring my hands together as he had. I succeeded and focused the light upon myself.
Blackness surrounded me. I don’t remember hitting the floor.
~
I awoke strapped in a chair, both arms securely fastened, no way to touch my hands together. I was in the laboratory. Rain pattered on the sky window.
A guard stood either side of me. The king came into the laboratory followed by a bald man.
“You will instruct Lundren,” the king said. “He will make a batch of truth serum and the potions for the transfer ceremony.”
“As you wish, sire.” Ealdred replied.
“Don’t think of tricking me.” The king stormed out.
Ealdred gave the bald man instructions for creating the potions. He did it correctly, but slightly increased the amount of milkweed in the potion intended for me. This change would result in the background mind being more subdued than normal. It was a good thing for Gytha if Ealdred had less control, but why did he do it?
~
The next morning they took me to the balcony above the courtyard again. Guards held each of my arms, not allowing my hands to touch. The platforms were set up for the transfer ceremony. Gytha was already there. She wore a beautiful green gown—Cleland’s choice I’m sure. The crowd below seemed even larger than the crowd at the first transfer ceremony. All eyes were upon me and not a single person smiled.
I would not survive the transfer. Like the wizards before Ealdred, I would fade into the background, only my knowledge would remain. At least Ealdred’s crime would be set right.
I tried speaking and to my surprise Ealdred allowed me. “Gytha, please take care of my family.”
She nodded, tears flowing from her eyes.
Just before the transfer potions were given to Gytha and me, I began convulsing. I coughed and sputtered and fell forward, limp in the guards’ arms. Ealdred controlled my body and was having some sort of fit.
“Sire,” Ealdred gasped. “He has switched the potions again.”
The crowd gasped.
What? The potions weren’t switched. Ealdred was trying to trick the king and control Gytha’s body.
“I was afraid this would happen,” the king said.
Desperately, I tried to speak, to tell the king this was all a ruse, a final attempt of Ealdred’s to keep control. I couldn’t. Ealdred was too strong.
Lundren, the bald man, approached holding a cup.
“Drink,” the king said.
“But,” Ealdred said, “truth serum will interfere with the transfer potion.”
The king spoke in a booming voice. “We will postpone the ceremony if needed.”
The truth potion wouldn’t interfere, but I was unable to tell the king.
Lundren held the cup to my lips and my body swallowed the serum in large gulps.
The king walked close to me. “Tell me the truth. Are the transfer potions switched?”
Ealdred didn’t answer, I did. “No.”
“Will the truth potion interfere with the ceremony?”
“No,” I said.
“Continue,” the king said and walked back beside the queen.
The same attendant from the previous ceremony handed Gytha a silver cup. She drained the cup. Then the attendant held a cup to my lips. Ealdred jerked my head away. Two additional guards grabbed my head, held it still, and opened my mouth for the liquid. The potion went down, burning my throat as it went. I coughed, but most the potion had went down.
Guards moved me to the lower platform. They tied one of my arms to the platform before binding the other arm to Gytha’s with the golden cord.
This was it, my final moment. I tried not to cry but couldn’t help it.
My body began to convulse. Darkness surrounded me, coming in from the edge of my vision until I could see nothing. Then I could feel nothing. Then I knew nothing.
~
It seemed only a moment later I was blinking my eyes. I could see, but my vision was still dark. Blurry dark images moved around darker images. Somebody hovered over me.
My vision cleared. It was Gytha who bent over me. I was in a dark, candle-lit room. I saw stars through a window in the roof above me. I was in the wizard laboratory.
I struggled to sit up.
“Lay still,” Gytha said. “It will take a few moments for your strength to return.”
“What happened?”
The king came into my vision. “Gytha the Wise happened. After the ceremony she sprang into action. She said she could save you. Your dead body was brought here and somehow she returned your mind to your body.”
Was this possible? I searched my memory, the knowledge of past wizards was gone.
I sat up and breathed deep. I held out my arm and made a fist, slowly closing my fingers and opening them. Complete control, no Ealdred.
“Your mother is in the castle,” Gytha said. “Her illness is easily remedied, but it will take a few weeks.”
I stood, my legs shook but it felt great to be on my own feet.
“Tayte, come before me,” the king said.
I stepped to the king and he pulled out his sword.
“Kneel,” he said.
My throat was tight. I knelt before the king and tried to gulp.
The king held his sword over my head. “For putting the welfare of others before your own.” He tapped my right shoulder with the sword. “And for fighting for truth.” He tapped my left shoulder. “I dub you Tayte the Righteous.” He tapped me head. “Now stand.”
Shaking, I struggled to my feet.
The applause surprised me. I looked around. A dozen or more people stood along the edge of the room. My father was one of them. He rushed to me and threw his arms around me. Gytha joined the hug.
“Three cheers for Tayte the Righteous,” the king said.
Together, everyone yelled “Hurrah. Hurrah. Hurrah.”
~ The End ~