[6]

 The first wizard came flying down out of the gray winter clouds just two days later. He dropped down into the middle of the village at midday, but stopped abruptly a few inches above the ground and hung awkwardly in the air at the center of a small whirlwind. Mad Oak's own ler were not making him welcome.

Naturally, this apparition caused quite a commotion. The weather was cold and overcast, so most of the townspeople were indoors, but a few children had been throwing snowballs at one another in the square. They ran screaming when the wizard arrived, calling for their parents, the priests, and the village ler. Breaker, who still thought of himself by that name even though most of his neighbors now called him Young Swordsman, or just Sword, had been moving firewood from the shed to the hearth when the commotion began, and did not hear it immediately; when he did realize something out of the ordinary was happening he still took the time to stack the wood in its proper place before following his sisters down the sloping street.

The Old Swordsman had been cleaning a sword, and did not rush the job; he finished his task, then carefully sheathed the blade and put away his cloths and polishes before finding his coat and joining the crowd.

   Almost the entire village stood in a circle, leaving a broad open area around the wizard, when the Young Swordsman arrived; only the three clerics—Elder Priestess, Priest, and Younger Priestess—had dared approach closely. As the young man strode up he could hear the wizard speaking.

" . . . no harm; flying was simply the fastest way to get here."
Breaker looked over the shoulders of his neighbors, and marveled at this wizard—and quite aside from the fact that he was hanging in midair, supported only by wind-spirits, his appearance left no doubt that he was a wizard.

   The two wizards who had accompanied the Old Swordsman three months before had looked like ordinary travelers, for the most part. Oh, they had had their staves and talismans, and the ara feathers any traveler would have, but their clothing had been plain woolen cloaks over the same garb anyone might have worn. This new arrival, though, was far more flamboyant. He wore a bright red robe trimmed with elaborate embroidery in gold and green; the patterned hem flapped around his ankles, and the wide sleeves fluttered. His unbound black hair would have reached halfway down his back had it not been whipping wildly in the unnatural wind that held him aloft. A dozen talismans rattled and gleamed on a cord around his neck, and gold rings the size of a circled thumb and forefinger hung from his ears. The carved and enameled staff in his hands was capped and shod in gold, and held a score of additional talismans.

   "And why were you in such a hurry to visit Mad Oak?" Elder Priestess asked.

   "Because the opportunity to see the world's greatest swordsman in formal combat does not come along often, and I didn't want to miss it!"

The Young Swordsman stiffened as several dozen pairs of eyes turned toward him, including the eyes of all three of his sisters.

The wizard saw the direction of those gazes, and turned his own attention that way, as well. Elder took her time before she, too, turned.

   "Formal combat?" she said.

   "Yes," the Young Swordsman admitted. "But it won't. . . I mean, we aren't. . . "

   "To first blood," the Old Swordsman said from behind him. "I believe the young man is ready to attempt it." He strode up and clapped Breaker on the shoulder.

"You said he was," the wizard called.

   "And we will find out soon whether I was right. I believe certain magic must be involved, though, for the match to have its intended effect of transferring the title—magic requiring a wizard's attention. That was why I sent word to all of you."

"I'd have been just as happy if no one watched," Breaker said, to no one in particular.

"When will it be?" the wizard asked. "The message was vague—you know how poor a sense of time some ler have."

   "We hadn't set an exact time," the Old Swordsman replied. "We needed to know just what's required in the way of wizards' magic."

   "Oh, it's a simple partial release and fresh binding—very easy, the sort of thing even an apprentice could probably do," the wizard said. "I could certainly manage it, if you like—you could hold the match this very afternoon."

   The two swordsmen looked at each other.

"If it's all the same, I'd prefer to. . . " the younger began.

   "We wait," the elder interrupted. "No offense, Red Wizard, to you or your ler, but I'd be happier with more than one experienced magician involved. Just to be safe."

   "Of course, of course." The wizard attempted a bow of acknowledgment, but the magical vortex held him upright, turning the bow into more of a wiggle. "You can demand half the Council, if you like—I think we'll all be eager to see it."

   "I was going to say, I would rather wait," Breaker said, glaring at his teacher.

   "Then might I ask, my esteemed priest and priestesses, that you petition the ler of your lands to let me set foot in Mad Oak?" the wizard asked, turning to the clerics. "I assure you, I mean no ill to any person or spirit here, and will keep my own immaterial servants in check."

   "And I suppose you'll want lodging, as well," Elder Priestess said.

   "Oh, I would not wish to intrude on your privacy; I will be happy to sleep in the pavilion on the ridge, if that

   might be permitted."

   "I thought wizards were supposed to be arrogant," Spider whispered in Breaker's ear as the clerics conferred. "He doesn't seem arrogant to me!"

   "He looks fancy enough, though, with all his bright colors and things!" Fidget whispered in reply.

   "Wizards are just people," their brother replied. 'The Old Swordsman's told me all about them—some are arrogant, some are humble. Like anyone."

A murmur of chanting came from the circle, and abruptly, the whirlwind vanished; the wizard stumbled as he dropped the last few inches onto the frozen mud of the square, but caught himself without falling.

"Thank you," he said, essaying a proper bow this time.

   "Our ler prefer human beings to arrive on foot," Priest said, apologetically. "They have a very strong sense of how things ought to be."

   "Of course," the wizard said, brushing off his robes and shaking his hair into place. "I meant no offense. Every town's ler have their own little whims; I just hadn't realized yours had that particular preference. Naturally, I'll do everything I can to oblige them."

   "Come on," Elder Priestess said. "I'll show you where you can sleep." She beckoned for the wizard to follow her as she led the way toward her home. Apparently she had no intention of making the town's guest sleep in the drafty, poorly heated pavilion, despite his offer.

Thinking of the cold, Breaker wondered idly, not for the first time, why the Wizard Lord allowed winter to still happen; was his command of the weather not enough to prevent it? The Old Swordsman had claimed not to know any answer to that one.

   "Well, that's one wizard," the Old Swordsman said, smiling at Harp, Fidget, Spider, and their brother as they all turned toward home, eager to get out of the cold. "Two or three will be enough. Then we'll put on our show, give you the talisman and bind the ler, and I'll be done with it all, ready to leave as soon as the roads are open in the spring."

"And you'll be the Chosen Swordsman," Fidget said, looking up at her brother. "Who'd have ever thought that would happen?"

The Old Swordsman laughed, but Breaker just batted a hand at his sister, who ducked the blow easily. He did not laugh.

And, he noticed, neither did his other sisters.

OTHER WIZARDS WERE not long in coming. With the river frozen over and snow blocking the paths only those who had captured wind elementals or found other ways to fly were able to come, so the first wizard's flamboyant arrival was repeated, with minor variations, three more times over a period of five days. All these wizards, two men and a woman, were strangers; apparently the two who had brought the Swordsman to Mad Oak in the first place either had not received the message, had decided not to attend, or were unable to fly.

   And four wizards, the Old Swordsman decided, was plenty; with this fourth and last arrival the wizards now outnumbered the priests hosting them, and waiting for more would be an imposition on Mad Oak's hospitality. Furthermore, he and Breaker had gone over their plans carefully, and both felt ready to perform their little exhibition. They could not rehearse it move for move, as that would make it impossible to fool the ler, and trying to set out specific moves in words did not seem entirely practical, but they agreed on what areas the Old Swordsman would try to leave exposed to Breaker's blade, and discussed just how the performance could be kept spontaneous and convincing while still yielding the desired result.

Thus prepared, the Old Swordsman sent Spider and Fidget to tell the assorted magicians that the formal challenge would be made the next day, and on the afternoon following the fourth wizard's arrival the Old Swordsman strode into the town square and proclaimed loudly to no one in particular, "I am the world's greatest swordsman! No one in Barokan can defeat me with a blade!"

Breaker had been waiting in a convenient doorway, feeling the tension in the air that meant ler were listening and watching; he thought he had even glimpsed light and movement in some of the winter shadows. Now he straightened up, flung back his hood, and marched out to face his teacher.

   "I can defeat you, you old fraud," he said, "if you forgo magical assistance!" Wind stirred, and shadows moved; a wave of glitter seemed to glide across a nearby snowdrift, as if something were refracting the watery sunlight. The air almost seemed to vibrate; the former Breaker had never before felt such a concentration of ler, not even during the spring planting rites.

   "I need no magic to beat the likes of you," the elder sneered.

"The empty words of a windbag!" "The simple truth."

   The younger raised his hand in challenge. "Then prove it—send away your captive ler, put down your talismans, and face me on even terms!"

Now he could feel dozens of eyes on him, as well as the presence of the ler. He resisted the temptation to look around at the hidden audience, peering through shutters or door cracks, or around corners—but even Priest's old cat, curled on a windowsill, seemed to be staring at him.

   All four wizards were unquestionably in the surrounding houses, watching through the shutters to be certain that the challenge was properly made.

   "I will!" the old man called happily. "Tomorrow, when the sun tops the eastern cliff, we will meet here with our swords. I will order my ler not to interfere, and we will see that my title is no brag, but mere fact!"

   "Tomorrow, then, old man!"

And with that, the two turned on their respective heels and marched off.

Behind them the air shimmered, and the cat's gaze followed the Young Swordsman's departure.