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diff --git a/24375.txt b/24375.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2bbc720 --- /dev/null +++ b/24375.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1422 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Wizard, by +Laurence Mark Janifer (AKA Larry M. Harris) + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Wizard + +Author: Laurence Mark Janifer (AKA Larry M. Harris) + +Release Date: January 21, 2008 [EBook #24375] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WIZARD *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Greg Bergquist, Bruce Albrecht and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Astounding Science +Fiction May 1960. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that +the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor typographical +errors have been corrected without note.] + + + + +WIZARD. + +By Larry M. Harris + + _Although the Masquerade itself, as a necessary protection against + non-telepaths, was not fully formulated until the late years of the + Seventeenth Century, groups of telepaths-in-hiding existed long + before that date. Whether such groups were the results of natural + mutations, or whether they came into being due to some other cause, + has not yet been fully determined, but that a group did exist in + the district of Offenburg, in what is now Prussia, we are quite + sure. The activities of the group appear to have begun, + approximately, in the year 1594, but it was not until eleven years + after that date that they achieved a signal triumph, the first and + perhaps the last of its kind until the dissolution of the + Masquerade in 2103._ + +--Excerpt from "A Short History of the Masquerade," by A. Milge, Crystal +704-54-368, Produced 2440. + +Jonas came over the hill whistling as if he had not a care in the +world--which was not even approximately true, he reflected happily. The +state of complete and utter quiet was both foreign and slightly +repugnant to him; he was never more pleased than when he had a job in +hand, a job that involved a slight and unavoidable risk. + +This time, of course, the risk was more than slight. Why, he thought +happily, it was even possible for him to get killed, and most painfully, +too! With a great deal of pleasure, he stood for a second at the crest +of the hill, his hands on his hips, looking down at the town of Speyer +as it baked in the May afternoon sunlight. + + + +[Illustration] + + _"Behold the Tortoise: He maketh no progress unless he sticketh out + his neck." But he maketh very little progress unless he pick the + right time and place to "sticketh out his neck"--which can be quite + a sticky problem for a man in a medieval culture!_ + +Illustrated by Schoenherr + +Jonas did not, in spite of his pose, look like the typical hero of folk +tale or scribe's tome; he was not seven feet tall, for instance, nor did +he have a handsome, lovesome face with flashing blue eyes, or a +broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted marvel of a figure. He was, instead, +somewhat shorter than the average of men in Europe in 1605 and for some +time thereafter. He had small, almost hidden eyes that seemed to see a +great deal, but failed completely to make a fuss about the fact. And +while his figure was just a trifle dumpy, his face completed the rhyme +by being extraordinarily lumpy. The nose, as a matter of strict truth, +was hard to distinguish from the other contusions, swellings and marks +that covered the head. + +Nor, of course, did he carry the sword of a great hero, or a noble. +Jonas had no _von_ to stick on his name, and he had never thought it +worth his while to claim one and accept the tiny risk of disclosure. +After all, a noble was only a man like other men. + +And, besides, Jonas knew perfectly well that he had no need of a sword. + +His adventures, too, were a little out of the common run of tales. Jonas +had, he thought regretfully, few duels to look forward to, and he had +even fewer to look back on. And, as a maid is won by face, figure and +daring, and a wife by riches, position or prospects, there was a notable +paucity of lissome ladies in Jonas' career. + +All in all, he thought sadly, he was not a _usual_ hero. + +But he refused to let the thought spoil his enjoyment. After all, he was +a hero, though of his own unique kind; there was no denying that. And, +in his own way, he had his reward. He took one hand off his hip to +scratch at the top of his head, wondering briefly if he had managed to +pick up lice in the last town he had visited, and he took another look +at the city. + +Speyer seemed a lot better, at first glance, than some of the other +places Jonas had visited. For one thing, it had a full town hall, +built--no less--of honest stone, and probably a relict of the Roman +times. There was the parish church, of course, a good solid wooden +structure, and a collection of houses strung along the dirt paths of the +town. The houses of the rich were, naturally, wooden; the poor built of +baked mud. There were a great many baked-mud structures, and only one +wooden one, besides the church, that Jonas could see. + +The paths were winding, but comparatively free from slop. That was +pleasing, he told himself. And the buildings themselves, wood, mud and +stone, clustered in the valley below him as if they were afraid, and +needed each other's protection. + +Which, in a way, they did. Jonas reflected on that a trifle grimly, +thinking of the Holy Inquisition with its hierarchy of priests and lay +folk, busily working in Speyer just as it worked in every other town +throughout Offenburg, and throughout the civilized world. + +Ordinarily, he would not have given it a thought, beyond a passing sigh +for the ways of the world; he had other business. But now-- + +He grinned to himself, and the grin turned to a laugh as he started down +the hill. The grislier methods of the Inquisitorial process were +well-known to him by reputation, and soon he might be testing them out +for himself. There was absolutely no way to be sure. + +That thought pleased him greatly; after all, he told himself, there was +nothing like a little danger to spice the boring business of living. By +the time he reached the bottom of the hill, he was whistling loudly. + + * * * * * + +He stopped at the first house, a mud construction with a +badly-carpentered wooden door and a single bare window that looked out +on the street. It smelled, but Jonas went up to the door bravely and +knocked. + +There was no answer. He went on whistling "_Fortuna plango vulnera_" +under his breath, and after a time he knocked again. + +This time he heard movement inside the house, and nodded to himself in a +satisfied fashion. But almost a minute passed before the head of an old +woman showed itself at the window. She was really extraordinarily ugly, +he thought. She wore a bonnet that did nothing whatever to enhance her +doubtful, wrinkled charms, or to conceal them; and besides, it was +dirty. + +"Nobody's here," she said in the voice of a very venomous toad. "Go +away." + +Jonas smiled at her. It was an effort. "Madam--" he began politely. + +"Nobody's home," she repeated, drawing slightly back from the window. +"You go away, now." + +"Ah," Jonas said pleasantly. "But you're home, aren't you?" + +The old woman frowned at him suspiciously. "Now," she said vaguely. +"Well." + +"This _is_ your house?" he said. "The house where you live?" + +"Never saw you before," the old woman said. + +"That's right," Jonas said equably. + +"You come to turn me out?" she demanded. Her eyebrows--which were almost +as big and black as her ancient mustache--came down over glittering +little eyes. "I hold this house free and proper," she said in a +determined roar, "and nobody can take it from me. It belongs to me, and +to my children, and to their children, and to the children of those +children--" + +The catalogue seemed likely to go on forever. "Exactly," Jonas said +hastily. + +"Well, then," the old woman said, and started to draw back. + +Jonas gestured lazily with one hand. "Wait," he said. "I am not going to +take your house away from you, madam. I am only here to ask you a +question." + +"Question?" she said. "You come from Herr Knupf? I'm an old woman but I +do no wrong, and there is no one can accuse me of heresy. I am in church +every week, and more than once; I keep peace with my neighbors and +there's none can say a mystery about me--" + +The woman, Jonas thought, was full to the eyebrows with words. Probably, +he told himself, trying to be fair, she didn't have anyone to talk to, +until a stranger came along. + +He sighed briefly. "I do not come from the Inquisitor," he said +truthfully, "nor is my question one that should cause you alarm." + +The old woman pondered for a minute. She leaned her elbows on the window +sill, getting them muddy. But that, Jonas thought, didn't seem to matter +to this creature, apparently. + +"Ask," she said at last. + +Jonas put on his most pleasant expression. "Madam," he said, "I wish to +know if there be any family in this town to give room to a +wayfarer--understanding, of course, that the wayfarer would insist on +paying. Paying well," he added. + +The old woman blinked. "You looking for an inn?" she said. "An inn in +this town?" The idea appeared to strike her as the very height of +idiocy. She covered her face with her hands and shook. After a second +Jonas discovered that she was laughing. He waited patiently until the +fit had left her. + +"Not an inn," he said. "There is no inn here, I know. But a family +willing to take in a stranger--" + +"Strangers are seldom here," she said. "Herr Knupf watches his flock +with zeal." + +Which meant, Jonas reflected, that he was in a fair way to get himself +burned as a heretic unless he watched his step carefully. "Herr Knupf's +fame has reached my own country, far away," he said with some truth. +"Nevertheless, a family which--" + +"Wait," she said. "You have said that you will pay well. Yet you do not +appear rich." + +Jonas understood. Fishing in his sewn pocket, he withdrew a single, +shiny coin. "I also wish," he said smoothly, "to pay for any help I may +receive--such as the answering of an innocent question, a question in +which the respected Inquisitor Knupf can have no interest whatever." + +The old woman's eyes went to the coin and stayed there. "Well," she +said. "It is said that the family called Scharpe has a house too large +for them, now that the elder son is gone; there is only the man, his +wife and a daughter. It is said that the man is in need of money; he +would accept payment, were it generous, in return for sharing room in +his house." + +"I would be most grateful," Jonas murmured. He passed the coin over; the +old woman's hand snatched it and closed on it. "Where might I find this +family?" he said. + +"It is now late in the afternoon," the old woman said. "Perhaps they are +at home. You will see a path which takes you to the left; follow it +until you reach the last house. Knock at the door." + +"I shall," Jonas said, "and many thanks." + +The old woman, still clutching her coin, disappeared from the window as +if someone had yanked her back. Jonas turned with relief and got back on +the path, but it stank quite as badly as the house had. + +He endured the stench--heroically. + + * * * * * + +Scharpe proved to be a barrel-shaped man who was unaccountably +cheerless, as if the inside structure had been carefully removed, and +then replaced by sawdust, Jonas thought. Even the offer of seven kroner +for a single week's stay failed to produce the delirious joy Jonas had +expected. + +"The money is needed," Scharpe said in a dour, bass voice, staring off +past Jonas' left ear at the darkening sky. "And for the money, you will +be welcome. I must take your word that you are not dangerous; I can only +pray that you do not betray that trust." + +It was far from a warm welcome, but Jonas was satisfied with it. "I +shall work to do you good," he said, "and not evil." + +"Stranger," Scharpe said, "work for your own good; do nothing for me. +This is an accursed family; there is no good to be done to me, or my +wife or child." + +Jonas tried to look reassuring. He thought of several things to say +about the sunny side of life, and decided on none or them. "My +sympathy--" he began. + +"Your sympathy may endanger you," Scharpe said. "My son is gone; I pray +that there is an end to it." + +Jonas peered once into the mind of the man, and recoiled violently; but +he had enough, in that one glimpse, to tell him the reason for Scharpe's +misery. And it was quite reason enough, he thought. + +"Herr Knupf--" + +"We do not mention that name," Scharpe said. "My wife has resigned +herself to what has happened; I am not so wise." + +"I promise you," Jonas said earnestly, "that you will be in no danger +from me. No, more: that I will help you out of your difficulties, and +ensure your peace." + +"Then you are an angel from Heaven," Scharpe said bitterly. "There is no +other help, while the Inquisitor remains and our sons become suspect to +his rages." + +Jonas shook his head. "There is help," he said, "and you will find it. +Your son is gone; accused, questioned, confessed and burnt. But there +will be no more." + +Scharpe looked at him for a long time. "Come with me," he said at last, +and led the way into his mud house. Inside, there was only one large +room, but it seemed spacious enough for four. Three pallets lay against +the far right wall, a single one against the left. Scharpe went to the +back of the house, near the single bed. "This will be yours," he said, +"while you are with us. It is poor but it is all we can offer." + +"I am honored," Jonas said. + +"Here we are alone," Scharpe went on, his voice lowering. "My wife and +daughter have gone to visit a neighbor, for they have not yet closed us +off entirely from all human contact." + +[Illustration] + +He grimaced. Jonas peered into the mind again, very gently, but the mad +roiling of pain and memory there was too strong for him, and he +returned. + +"If you have anything to say to me," Scharpe said, "tell me now. No one +can hear us, not Herr Knupf himself." + +"To say to you?" + +"Regarding your plan," Scharpe said. "Surely you have a plan. And if I +may play any part in it--" + +Jonas blinked. "Plan?" he said. + +"Of course," Scharpe said. "You speak of an end to troubles, an end to +the Inquisition and the burnings, an end to the question. And so you +must have a plan for ridding us of Herr Knupf; one which you will tell +me." + +Jonas shook his head. "I have no plan," he said. + +"It means danger," Scharpe pressed him. "But I do not mind danger, in +such a cause. I am not vengeful, but my son was no wizard. Yet the +Inquisitor took him and had a confession from him; you know well the +worth of such confessions. And soon there will be others, for when the +curse strikes a family it does not stop with one member." He tightened +his lips. "It is not for myself I am afraid," he said. + +Jonas nodded. "Were there such a plan," he said, "be assured I would +tell you." + +"But--" + +"There is none," Jonas said. "Herr Knupf shall remain, for all that I +can do, while the earth remains." + +Scharpe opened his mouth, shut it again, and then shrugged. "I see," he +said at last. "You do not trust me. Perhaps you are wise. I might talk +foolishly; I am an old man; older, in this last month, than in all my +other years." + +"Believe me," Jonas began. "I--" + +"Let it be," Scharpe said quietly. "I believe you. If that is what you +want, I believe you." He shrugged again, moving out toward the door of +the hut. "And, in any case," he said, "the money is needed. For there +are fines to pay, and costs of the Inquisition." + +"I understand," Jonas said helplessly. + +Scharpe turned and looked him full in the face. In the big man's eyes, +bitterness and hopelessness glittered. "I am sure you do," he said, and +turned again toward the door. + + * * * * * + +The others he met only briefly. Frau Scharpe was a little woman with the +face of a walnut, who looked as if she had never really been cheerful. +Her son's death, he saw when he looked into her mind, had not come as a +surprise to her; it was one more unhappy event, in a lifetime in which +she had expected nothing else. Unhappiness, she told herself, was her +portion in this life; in the Life Above, things would be different. + +Jonas had met the type before, and was uninterested in going further. +But Ilse Scharpe was something else entirely. She did not say a word to +him, coming into the house that evening, a pace behind her mother, like +an obedient slave. She was about seventeen, and her mind was as fresh +and clean and pretty as her face and figure. Jonas started musing on +Heroes again, but he never had the chance to make a move toward her. She +had a very nice smile, and from memories in the others' minds he could +hear her voice, low and quiet and entirely satisfactory. + +Jonas sighed. The job, he told himself sternly, came first. And +afterward-- + +Though, come to think of it, there wouldn't be an afterward. + +The evening meal was simple. There was a single dish of meat and some +sort of beans; after it had been eaten, and the darkness outside grew to +full night, it was time to retire. Jonas went over to his pallet, +removed his jerkin and shoes, and lay down. He heard the others readying +themselves for sleep, but he did not look into their minds. Soon they +were asleep and breathing heavily. + +But Jonas stayed awake for a while. + +"It's really too bad we can't work this sort of thing at a distance," +Claerten's voice said suddenly. "But then, none of us has ever met the +man, and you can't read a mind if you haven't had some physical contact +with the man who owns it." + +"It is too bad," Jonas agreed politely. Five hundred miles away Claerten +chuckled, and the linkage of minds transmitted the amusement to Jonas. + +"You don't think so, at any rate," the director said. "You're having +adventures--and a fine time. It's the sort of thing you like, after +all." + +Jonas shrugged mentally. "I suppose so," he said. "I like to work on my +own, do my own job--" + +"And it's got you into trouble before," Claerten said. "But you can't +afford any mistakes this time." + +"I know the risk perfectly well," Jonas thought back. + +Claerten's thought carried a wry echo. "You know the risk to yourself," +he told Jonas, "and you've accepted that. You rather like it, as a +matter of fact. But you haven't thought of the risk to the rest of +us--and to the town you're in." + +Jonas sent a thought of uncertainty: "What?" + +Claerten transmitted the entire picture in one sudden blow: the chance +that Jonas would not be killed immediately, but would be discovered; the +chance that the Inquisitor would get from him the secret of the +Brotherhood-- + +"That's impossible," Jonas said. + +Claerten sounded resigned. "Nothing's impossible," he said. "And if the +secret is let out--why, the Brotherhood is finished. Finished before +it's barely started. Because you can read a man's mind doesn't mean you +can defeat him, Jonas." + +"But you know what he's going to do--" + +"And if he's got you in a wooden house and he's going to burn it down, +what good does your knowledge do you?" + +"But you can transmit false thoughts--" + +"And confuse him," Claerten said. "Fine. Fine. If you've ever met the +man before. And suppose you haven't? Then you can't transmit a thing to +him; you're trapped in the house, remember, and the fire's started. What +good's your telepathy?" + +"But--" + +"It's a sense," Claerten said. "Like any other sense. But it isn't magic +any more than your eyes are magic. They're ... given by God, if you +like; they grow, they develop. So the ability to read minds, to transmit +thought is given by God. No one knows why or how. Fifteen of us have +developed it; fifteen who are members of the Brotherhood. But there are +others--" + +"Of course," Jonas thought impatiently. "I know all that." + +"You know a great deal," Claerten said, "which I sometimes find it +necessary to bring to your attention." + +"I've done all right," Jonas thought sullenly. + +Claerten agreed. "Of course you have," he thought, "but you're not the +most careful of men; and great care is needed. The Brotherhood must +grow. This new sense is of great value; perhaps we can learn to teach it +to others in time, though we have had little success with that. But at +the least we can maintain our numbers, pass the gift on to our +children--" + +"If it is possible," Jonas said. + +"We must try," Claerten said. "And your job is enormously important." + +"I know that," Jonas thought wearily. + +"You have accomplished the first step," Claerten said. "Do nothing +rash." + +"Of course not." + +"You will not accept help--" + +"I will not," Jonas thought. + +"Very well, then," Claerten thought. There was the ghost of another +idea; Jonas caught it. + +"I know perfectly well that you wouldn't have sent me if there were any +other available member," he thought. "There is no need to remind me." + +"I'm sorry," Claerten thought. He radiated caution, worry, patience; +Jonas turned in the bed and cut off from the director with a grunt. He +was tired; long-distance linkages were a drain on the body's energy, +even when the person involved was easy to visualize. But Claerten had +insisted on intermittent contact. + +If there were such a thing as total contact, constant contact over a +period of days, Jonas thought, Claerten would use me for a puppet, a +veritable Punch among men; he would override me and take me over the way +a traveling entertainer rules his jointed dolls. + +And that would be a fine thing for a hero, wouldn't it? + +He grimaced in the darkness. Constant contact was simply impossible; any +reaching out used energy, and linking up for a long period simply burned +the body up like a long starvation; it was as bad as a penance. + +Jonas was thankful for that. + +And for the rest--well, he thought resignedly, what was a hero without a +quest? And what was a quest without someone to set it? + +But that the someone had to be Claerten, with his caution and his +old-woman worry-- + +Jonas sighed and set about the business of falling asleep. + + * * * * * + +The days passed slowly, with great boredom. Jonas made contact twice +with Claerten, who told him over and over to wait, to do nothing: "The +next move is coming soon; do nothing to hurry it. You can only upset the +natural course of events." + +"Which is unwise," Jonas thought bitterly, "and risky, and very probably +impious as well." + +"As for the piety," Claerten thought, "I leave that to the priests and +the women. But wisdom and caution are my task, Jonas, as they must be +yours." + +"I--" + +"You are a hero, out on an adventure," Claerten thought witheringly. +"But set your course with sense, travel it with caution; you will the +more certainly arrive." + +"Philosophy for a dull plodder," Jonas thought. + +"Philosophy for one of the Brotherhood," Claerten thought back. "We are +tiny as yet; we have no force. You can add to that force, add greatly; +but you must be wise." + +"I must be slow, you mean." + +"I mean what I have told you," Claerten thought. "And--one more thing, +Jonas." + +"Yes?" + +"The daughter," Claerten thought. "I have seen her in your mind. Ignore +the wench. Is she worth what your task is worth?" + +"I never--" + +"Then my caution is unnecessary," Claerten thought. "But, in the +unlikely case that she might tempt you to folly--remember it." + +Jonas, who disliked irony, sighed and cut off. + +That was the third night. During the days he had done the things he had +planned; he did no work with the Scharpes, but let them find him, when +they returned to the hut of an evening, reciting strange words. Once he +built a small outdoor fire and walked around it, widdershins, for +several minutes. Then he put the fire out and went inside. He wasn't +sure whether or not anyone was watching him, that time. + +But sooner or later it had to happen. + +And it happened, as Jonas had suspected it would, through the wife. Mrs. +Scharpe came back to the hut early one day, threw a frightened glance at +Jonas sitting in a corner doing nothing at all, and left. + +He hardly needed to see into her mind to know where she was going. + +And twenty minutes later two men came to the hut. They stood in the +opened doorway, Mrs. Scharpe behind them twittering like an ancient +bird, and Jonas watched them boredly. They were giants, for this part of +the world, almost six feet tall, with great hands and jaws. One had +black, coarse hair on his head and a stubble about his face; the other +was bald as an egg. + +"That's him," Mrs. Scharpe said--just a trifle hesitantly. "He's the +one. He came to stay with us and we didn't know--" + +The man with black hair said: "Uh. Gur." + +"Herr Knupf said take him back," the bald one added. + +"Herr Knupf?" Jonas said, entering the conversation with a light, +pleasant tone. + +"He's the ... the--" Mrs. Scharpe tried to get the word out, and then +pushed by the two men and came into the hut. "I didn't want to but +there's something strange, and we can't afford any suspicion, and--" + +Jonas realized slowly that she was crying as she looked at him. "It's +all right," he said uncomfortably. + +"You're--" + +"I'll be perfectly all right," Jonas said. He stood up. "This Herr +Knupf," he said. "He wants to see me?" + +"He said bring you along," the bald man told him. + +The black-haired man nodded very slowly. "Gur," he said. + +Jonas sighed and went forward to meet the two big men, leaving Mrs. +Scharpe sobbing in the background. The poor woman felt terrible, he +knew; but there was nothing he could do about that. "Then let us go," +he said, and marched off. Feeling that one more effect wouldn't hurt, +he led the way to the Town Hall; let them figure out how he had known +just where to go, he thought. + +Their minds were very, very boring, and quite blank. Herr Knupf, Jonas +reflected, might be a definite relief. + + * * * * * + +First there was the cell, which was in the basement of the Town Hall. It +was damp and the air was not too good, but there were compensations. +Rats, for instance. Jonas told himself, after the first couple of hours, +that he simply wouldn't have known what to do without the rats. Trying +to trap and kill them, with no weapons beyond his bare hands--even an +eating knife he had carried in his jerkin had been taken away, leaving +him to the uncomfortable reflection that he was going to have to dine +with his fingers--was a pastime that occupied him for several hours on +the first day. + +On the second day, the rats began to bore him. By that evening, they +were annoying him, and when the third day dawned bright and warm--as +near as he could tell from the tiny slip of window at the top of his +cell--Jonas was telling himself that any move at all was a move in the +right direction. + +He set up a shout for one of the guards. The bald one had brought his +meals every day, but the black-haired one was the man who checked his +cell at night. For once, Jonas thought, he was lucky; the bald man +appeared, after some fifteen minutes of screaming and cursing. Jonas was +not at all sure whether the black-haired man understood language: there +was little trace of it in his mind, and virtually nothing that might be +called intelligence. With the bald man, at least, he could communicate. + +"What's wanted?" the guard said sourly, staring through the bars. + +Jonas smiled softly. "You know why I'm here, don't you?" he said in a +voice as close to silky as he could make it. + +"You?" the bald man said. "You're here. In a cell." + +"That's right," Jonas said patiently. He rubbed at his face. "Do you +know why I was put here?" + +"You--cast spells. You make things happen." + +"That's right," Jonas said, smiling again. "I'm a wizard. A warlock. +That's what they say, isn't it?" + +"You--make things happen," the bald man said. + +But he had the basic idea; Jonas checked that in his mind. "Very well," +he said. "Now, I wish to see Herr Knupf." + +"The Inquisitor calls you when he wants you," the bald man said. + +"Now," Jonas said. + +"When he wants--" + +"If I am a wizard," Jonas said, "I have powers. Strange powers. I could +make you--" He reflected for a minute. "I could make you into a beetle, +and squash you underfoot. As a matter of fact, I think I will." He gazed +reflectively at the bald man, who gulped and turned a little pale. + +"You ... you are in a cell," he said at last. "Locked up." + +"Do you think that will stop me?" Jonas said. He came to the barred +door, still smiling. + +"You would not dare--" + +"Why not?" Jonas asked. "What have I got to lose?" + +He raised one hand, clawing the fingers slightly. He took a deep breath, +as if he were about to spit out an incantation. His eyes glittered. The +smile broadened. + +A long second passed. + +"I will tell the Inquisitor you wish to see him," the bald guard said. + +Jonas relaxed and stepped back. "I shall be most grateful," he said +formally. The guard turned and started to walk away. Five paces down the +corridor, the walk turned into a run. Jonas watched him go, and then sat +down on his louse-infested cot to await developments. + +The minutes ticked by endlessly. He thought of trying to reach Claerten, +but decided, not entirely with regret, that the contact would use up too +much energy. And he needed all the energy he could conserve now. The +second step had been taken--the fact that he sat in a cell in prison was +proof of that. + +[Illustration] + +The third step--the all-important final step--was about to begin. + + * * * * * + +Georg Knupf was a tall man with skin the color and apparent texture of +good leather. He had a face like an eagle, and his eyes were ice-blue. +He moved his thin, strong hands gently back and forth on the table that +held his papers, inkstand and pen, and said in a voice like audible +sandpaper: "You wanted to see me." + +"True," Jonas said pleasantly. Knupf was sitting behind the table. Jonas +had not been asked to sit; he remained standing, and he was reasonably +sure that his feet were going to hurt in a minute. He tried not to let +the thought disturb him. + +The man's mind was like his office in the Town Hall: sparsely furnished, +almost austere, but with all the necessaries laid out for easy access. +Underneath the strength and iron of the mind Jonas caught the spark +glowing, and nearly smiled. In spite of the reports, in spite of logic, +there had been a chance the Brotherhood had guessed wrongly about this +man. + +[Illustration] + +Now that chance was gone, and the Brotherhood was right again. + +"Not many ask to see me," Knupf said in the same voice. He went on +looking at his hands. There was bitterness in his mind, bitterness that +had changed to hate. "Their pleas tend to be exactly the opposite." + +"I did not plead," Jonas pointed out. "It was necessary that I come to +see you." + +The question was, he told himself, exactly what were the Inquisitor's +real beliefs? His public professions were well-known; Jonas searched and +found the answer. Knupf was an honest man. + +That, of course, made matters simpler. + +"Necessary?" Knupf said, looking up for the first time. His gaze stabbed +like a sword. He was uneasy, Jonas knew; with another mind probing his, +he could not help but be uneasy. But he could not find a cause; it would +never occur to him. And he controlled his feelings superbly. + +"You believe that I am a wizard," Jonas said. + +Knupf waited a bare second, and then nodded. + +"I can do many things," Jonas went on. "It was necessary that I bring +these to your attention--and prove to you that they are not wizardry, or +magic." + +"Many have told me," Knupf muttered, "that their feats were natural. It +is a common defense." + +"So I have heard," Jonas said easily. "But I shall prove what I say." + +"I am under no compulsion to listen to you," Knupf said after a pause. + +Jonas shrugged. His feet _were_ beginning to hurt, he realized; he +sighed briefly, but there was no time or attention to spare for them. "I +could only see you by having myself accused of witchcraft," he said. "In +that way, you would be forced to listen to me. You may listen now, or +later at a full hearing of the Inquisitor's Court." + +"And I am to take my choice?" Knupf said. He smiled briefly; his face +remained cold. The strong hands moved on the tabletop. + +"It is a matter of indifference to me," Jonas said. "But the wait +becomes boring, after a time." + +Knupf's eyebrows went up. "Boring is--hardly the word others would use." + +"I am not like others," Jonas said. He wished for Claerten suddenly, but +there was no way to reach him safely. He had to make his move alone. + +Well, he told himself, that was what he had wanted. + +"I can tell you what is in your mind," he said. + +The words hung in the air of the room for a long time. At last Knupf +nodded. "The Devil grants to many his power of seeing the minds of men," +he said quietly. + +"This is not Devil's work--as I shall prove," Jonas said. He shifted his +feet. "But let me establish one point at a time, in the most scholastic +manner; if you will permit." + +"I permit," Knupf said. There was interest in his mind, overlaid with +skepticism, of course, but interest all the same. That, Jonas thought, +was a better sign than he had dared to hope for. + +"Very well," he said. "Think of a word. Think of any single word. I +shall tell it to you." + +"As any wizard might do, who had the help of his lord the Devil," Knupf +muttered. "Do you expect this to prove--" + +"One thing at a time," Jonas said. + +Knupf nodded. A second passed. + +Jonas licked his lips. The possibilities paraded before him; on one +hand, success. On the other there was the torture and death of the +Inquisition. Jonas took a deep breath; there was no way to back out now. +Heroism looked a little empty, though. + +He closed his eyes. "Cabbages," he said. + +Knupf neither applauded, nor looked surprised. "As I have said," he +murmured, "that which the Devil can grant--" He paused and looked down +at his hands. "Am I to take this as a confession?" he said. "Do you wish +to hurry your own death?" + +"I am no wizard," Jonas said. + +"A stranger," Knupf said, "who enters a small city, is seen at +mysterious undertakings, plucks words out of the center of a man's mind + ... why, the picture is a classic one. Del Rio himself, Holzinger or any +of the others could not describe a better." + +"Yet all this was done to draw your attention, to fix it on what I have +to tell you," Jonas said, shifting his feet again. "I am no wizard, but +a man who may do certain things. And here is my proof: you may do the +same yourself." + +The silence was a long one, and at the end of it Knupf rose. He walked +to the door of the room and opened it, and the bald-headed guard came +in. "He has tried to tempt me to pact with Satan," the Inquisitor said. + +"But--" + +"Take him away." + + * * * * * + +Some day, Jonas thought, back in his cell, there would be a method of +controlling minds that did not require the willing co-operation of the +two parties. Some day the man who reads minds would be more than a +passive onlooker. + +But the talent was new; it needed practice, it needed training. + +The cell grew dark as night came, and the dampness seemed to increase. +Jonas heard squeaking and thought of the rats, but he couldn't even +summon up enough energy to try for them. He sat crosslegged in a corner +of the cell and closed his eyes. + +He sighed once, deeply. This was what a hero came to, he told himself. +This was the end of heroics and playing a lone hand. Why, if he had it +to do over again, he would-- + +"You would do exactly the same thing," Claerten's voice said. + +Jonas grinned suddenly, and sat straighter. "I should have known you'd +be getting into contact sooner or later," he thought. + +"I try to keep track of all our men," Claerten thought. "In a case like +yours, I try harder." + +"My foolishness," Jonas thought, "sometimes works to my benefit." + +Claerten's thought was wry. "If you hadn't got impatient and tried to +hurry things," his voice said in Jonas' mind, "you wouldn't be back in +your cell now. There is a time and a place for your disclosure--" + +"Another day in here would have driven me out of my wits," Jonas +thought. + +"Better out of your wits than dead," Claerten thought. + +Jonas sighed. + +"However," Claerten went on, "there is still a way out for you. I have +read the situation in your mind, and your next move will have to be +rather more spectacular than usual." + +"So long as it works," Jonas said, "I will be satisfied." + +"It will work," Claerten said. "At least--I think it will." + +Another day dragged by. Jonas put in his time alternately going over the +new plan and feeling more frightened than he had ever believed possible. +Claerten reached him once, but the contact was weak and fleeting; the +director hadn't enough strength to reach him again, at least not for a +day or so. Jonas was exactly where he'd wanted to be: on his own. + +He hated the idea. + +Time passed, somehow. When morning dawned, Jonas awoke to find the door +of his cell being unlocked. The bald man and the black-haired man were +both there. He looked up at them with distaste. + +Then he saw what was in their minds, and the distaste changed to fear. + +"You have confessed," the bald one said. "It is necessary that you +ratify your confession. Come with us." + +Jonas knew what that meant: ratification of a free confession took place +under torture. He wiped his face with one hand, but he hardly thought of +escaping. + +He had to go through with the plan. + +The two guards came into the cell and gripped his arms. Jonas allowed +himself to be carried out into the corridor, and down it to a great +wooden door. The guards opened it, and dragged him through. + +The torture chamber was brightly lit, with torches in brackets along the +walls that gave off, by a small fraction, more light than smoke. In one +corner the rack itself stood, and there were other tools of the trade +scattered around the room. + +Jonas found that he was sweating. + +The guards brought him to the center of the room. Knupf was standing +near him, a perfectly blank expression on his face. His voice was the +same rough rasp, but it seemed almost mechanical. + +"You have confessed to me," he said, "your heresy. Now, you will be made +to ratify your confession. That done, your penalty will be exacted." + +And the penalty, of course, would be death--death at the stake. + +He forced himself to remain calm. Now was the time for his play. He took +a deep breath and felt the strength in him gather to a single point and +flow outward. The two men suddenly seemed to stagger; there was a second +of confusion and they had let him go. He stood alone in the room. He +turned and walked to the door, but he did not open it. Instead, he +leaned against it. + +He forced his voice into the patterns of calmness and ease. "Your men +cannot touch me," he said. + +"Wizard--" + +"No," Jonas said. The confusion he was broadcasting kept the men from +doing anything that required even a simple plan, but he couldn't keep it +up for long. "A man like yourself, a man with a particular talent, given +by God." + +"The name of God--" + +"I can say that name," Jonas told the Inquisitor. "No wizard may say +it." + +"It is a trick," Knupf said. + +Jonas shook his head. "Not at all. I will ask you to do nothing against +the Faith; I will merely ask you to test for yourself what I say." + +"You are a heretic," Knupf said stubbornly. "I can not--" + +"You can pray," Jonas said. + +Knupf blinked. "Pray?" he said. + +"Meditate on a prayer," Jonas said. "Keep your mind open, keep yourself +ready for the gift of God. It will descend on you." + +Knupf shook his head. "It is a trick--" he began. + +"A trick?" Jonas said. "With the prayers of God and His Church?" + +And that was the unanswerable question. For no wizard could use the name +of God, no wizard could pray. So the Inquisition said; so Knupf said, so +Knupf had to say, and so he had to believe. + +Slowly, his mind opened and became receptive. The prayer hung in the air +of the smoky room. Jonas slipped in-- + +"Now," he said quietly. + +His control slipped. The two guards came toward him, overpowered and +held him in a brief second-- + +"Wait," the Inquisitor said heavily. "Wait. Release him." + + * * * * * + +"And so," Claerten thought, "the job was accomplished." + +"Naturally," Jonas thought. + +Claerten's thought had an overtone of weariness. "There is no need to be +smug," he told Jonas. "After all, you did not do the job yourself." + +"Unimportant," Jonas thought. "The man is convinced; he can be trained +further and join the Brotherhood." + +"It will take time," Claerten said. "A few years, perhaps. But in the +meantime there will be no trials in Speyer." + +"No trials?" Jonas thought. "But ... oh. I see." + +"Of course," Claerten thought. "Any man who considers himself a wizard +will have his mind seen by the Inquisitor. And since there are no +wizards--at least, none we have discovered--" + +"The trials will cease," Jonas finished. + +"And the Brotherhood has gained a new member," Claerten said. "A member +with influence and power. It is an important step forward, Jonas." + +"Of course," Jonas thought disinterestedly. + +"Yet you seem bored by the matter," Claerten thought, puzzled. "I don't +see ... oh. I see the woman in your mind. The daughter. And--" + +"Now, stop it," Jonas thought. "Stop it. Cut off. After all," he +finished, "there are times when even a hero wants a little privacy." + + +Postscript: + +_In 1605-1606 (in Offenburg) there were no executions...._ + +--H. C. Lea, "Materials Toward a History of Witchcraft," Vol. III, p. +1148. + + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Wizard, by +Laurence Mark Janifer (AKA Larry M. 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