Forging the Darksword by Margaret Weis Read Free Book Online

is speculated that in the dark, shadowy land of our past, we magi were forced to join the flesh together to produce issue as do animals. This gave us no control over the reproduction of our kind, and caused our blood to mingle with that of the Dead. Even years after we came to this world, so it is believed, we still mated that way. But then we learned that we had the power to take the seed of the man and transfer it—using the Life force—to woman. Through this, we could control the numbers of our population as well as raising the people above the bestial desires of the flesh. But that is not as easy as it sounds, the flesh being weak. I take it you outgrew these dreams,” the
Theldara
continued, “or perhaps you are still bothered—”
    “No,” said Saryon hurriedly, in some confusion. “No, not bothered by them—I didn’t outgrow, I don’t think. That is … Mathematics,” he said finally. “I—I discovered that what had once been … a game was my … salvation!” Sitting up, he looked at the Druid, his face brightening. “When I am in the world of my studies, I forget all about everything! Don’t you see, Healer?
That
is why I miss Evening Prayers. I forget all about eating, the exercise period; it’s all a waste of time! Knowledge! To study and learn and create—new theories, new calculations. I’ve cut the magical force needed to form glass from rock in half! And this is nothing—
nothing—
to compare to some of the things I’ve been planning! Why, I’ve even discovered—” Saryon broke off abruptly.
    “Discovered what?” asked the Druid casually.
    “Nothing you’d be interested in,” the catalyst said shortly. Staring down at the cushion, he suddenly noticed the hole he had made in it. Flushing, he began trying, without much success, to repair the damage he had done.
    “I may not understand the mathematics,” the
Theldara
said, “but I’d be very interested to listen to you talk about it.”
    “No. It’s not anything, really.” Saryon stood up, somewhat unsteadily. “I’m sorry about the cushion …”
    “Easily repaired,” the Druid said, rising to his feet and smiling, though he was once more studying the young catalyst intently. “Perhaps you will come back and we can discuss this new discovery of yours?”
    “Possibly. I … I don’t know. Like I said, it isn’t really important. What is important in my life is the mathematics. It’s more important to me than anything else! Don’t you see? The gaining of knowledge …
any
type of knowledge! Even that which is—” Saryon broke off abruptly. “May I go now?” he asked. “Are you finished with me?”
    “I’m not ‘finished’ with you, because I never ‘started’ with you in the first place,” the
Theldara
reproved gently. “
You
were advised to come here because your Master was concerned for your health. So am I. You are obviously overworking yourself, Brother Saryon. That fine mind of yours depends upon its body. As I said before, if you neglect one, the other will suffer as well.”
    “Yes,” Saryon murmured, ashamed of his outburst. “I am sorry. Healer. Perhaps you are right.”
    “I will see you at meals … and out in the exercise yard?”
    “Yes,” the catalyst answered, checking an exasperated sigh; and turning, he started for the door.
    “And quit spending
all your
hours in the Library,” the Druid continued, following. “There are other—”
    “The Library?” Saryon whirled about, his face deathly pale. “What did you mean, the Library?”
    The
Theldara
blinked, startled. “Why, nothing, Brother Saryon. You mentioned studying. Naturally, I assumed you must spend much of your time in the Library …”
    “Well, you assumed wrong! I haven’t been there in a month!” Saryon snapped vehemently. “A month, do you hear me?”
    “Why, yes …”
    “May the Almin be with you,” the catalyst muttered. “No need to show me out. I know the way.” Bowing awkwardly, he hurried through the