carefully.
The hermit froze a second, then blinked, his face taking on a strange expression. “Why would you do that?”
“Well, if you’re Mom’s great-grandfather, then you’re my great-great-grandfather, so we’re family,” said Will hopefully. He wasn’t sure why he had made the suggestion. The only family he’d ever had were his cousins, his uncle, and his mother. For some reason the thought of calling someone ‘father,’ or in this case, ‘grandfather,’ appealed to some inner need he didn’t fully understand.
The old man coughed, then cleared his throat. When he answered, his voice seemed thicker than before. “Fine. You can call me Grandfather if you want, but if we’re ever around other people use ‘Master.’”
“You said that would be embarrassing,” Will reminded him.
His grandfather glared at him. “Not as embarrassing as having people know I’m related to a lackwit.” He pointed at the slate. “You need to learn these ten letters. Once you’ve managed that, I’ll show you the rest. If you can name them all and tell me their associated sounds, I’ll teach you something interesting after dinner this evening, assuming you don’t poison us.”
“Magic?” asked Will hopefully.
The old man paused. “Why are you so damned interested in magic?”
Will looked evenly at his grandfather. “You and Mother both seem to think I’ve got some talent. That’s why you brought me here, isn’t it?”
“I brought you here to teach you to be an herbalist,” said his grandfather. “Along the way I hope to teach you only enough magic to keep you from killing yourself or getting yourself put in prison.”
Defiantly, Will spoke up, “I don’t want to be an herbalist! I want to be a sorcerer, like you.”
The old man’s face hardened. “What did you call me?”
“You’re a sorcerer, aren’t you?”
His grandfather stood, towering over him, his face angrier than Will had yet seen. “I’ll take your ignorance into account this once, boy, but if you ever call me that again I’ll cut your ears off and sew them on backwards. Do you hear me?”
Confused, Will nodded. “Aren’t the most powerful mages sorcerers, though? Like the king?”
The old man’s eyes lit with fury. “Sorcerers are the weakest, most morally corrupt, vilest, and most despicable examples of humankind ever to crawl mewling out of their mothers’ wombs. They aren’t even fit to be called ‘mages.’ I’d sooner be accused of trafficking with demons and named a warlock as to be called a sorcerer.”
The vehemence in his grandfather’s voice set Will back on his heels. It made little sense to him. All the most powerful nobles, and even the king himself, were sorcerers, commanding powers so vast they could wipe out entire armies, or even level mountains, if the stories were to be believed. It had been King Lognion’s distant ancestor, the first sorcerer, who had defeated Darrow and established Terabinia’s independence. By comparison, warlocks were known to be degenerate magic wielders who traded with demons and evil spirits for their powers. Being named one was a capital offense.
So what does that make him? wondered Will. He remembered the old man saying he had once devoured a demon’s essence. Was he really a warlock?
The old man noted the fearful expression on his face. “I’m not saying I am a warlock, dunce! That was a rhetorical device.”
Will wasn’t sure what ‘rhetorical’ meant, but he got the gist of the old man’s statement. “Then what are you?”
“Someone who isn’t going to teach you magic,” spat his grandfather. “You’ll learn to be an herbalist, and I’ll teach you just enough magic to keep you alive and to understand why you don’t want to be a sorcerer.” Will didn’t reply, and after a moment the old man took his silence for acquiescence. Pointing at the slate, he said, “I’ll go over the letters again. Pay attention. I expect you to use the rotten gourd you call a head.”
Will did his best, reciting the sounds as his grandfather repeated them to him. Fortunately, he had a pretty good memory, not that the old man would ever praise him for it. Once he could repeat back all the names of the letters and their related sounds, the old man stood up to leave.
“I’m going to check the garden,” said his grandfather.
A few minutes later, he could hear the old man bellowing from behind the house. “Gah! Get away! I’ll hunt every one of you demon-spawned quadrupeds down and exterminate you if you come back again!”
There was a short silence, and Will laughed quietly to himself, imagining the old man running