Strange Perceptions (7 page)

“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 and fall to the floor.

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 guzzle. 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.
What the hell?
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 lying on the platform. 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.

But if he used the potion to kill me it would wreck my body and take months to recover. Was it worth it to him?

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. He wouldn’t 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, ranging 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.

I had a thought. Maybe, if I moved quickly enough I could surprise Ealdred. It was chancy though. Failure 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.