The Secret Key of Pythagorum Read online

Nana recognized that Nicola had made up her mind and that it was useless to try to convince her otherwise. She looked at her daughter for a long moment and then walked out the door. She crossed the yard to where Savaric sat on a pile of logs, his head resting on his arms.

  “Well, we’ve done it. You are to go. Are you ready?”

  He nodded without lifting his head.

  “I’ll get your things out of the house and bring them to you. Wait here.”

  He nodded again without speaking. She went back to the cottage, and a few minutes later she emerged from the cottage with a bundle.

  “I made several loaves of bread for you, and there’s some dried goat meat and all our coin. These and the things you set aside are in the bundle. You have your cloak hidden?”

  He lifted his head and said, “Yes.” His face was grim.

  “What’s the matter?” she said. “This went exactly as we planned.”

  “Yes, I know. I just can’t believe how easy it was to get her to turn against me.”

  “Oh, Savaric,” Nana said consolingly. “I’m sorry. But you know what she is like. She isn’t like us. She takes after her father. You can’t expect much from someone who is made that way.”

  He sighed and nodded.

  “Come now. You need to make time before dark.”

  He stood up and took the bundle, throwing it over his shoulder. He looked at her for a few seconds and then dropped it to the ground, giving her a desperate, clinging hug.

  “I can’t believe I’m leaving my home, the only place and people I have ever known,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

  “You have a great wide world to see, son. You’ll fare well. Bring us back riches.”

  “Yes… I’ll miss you, Nana.”

  “And I you.”

  They both released their arms from the hug and stepped back.

  “Keep your secrets close.”

  “Aye.” He nodded. “Goodbye.”

  She sniffled. “Goodbye.”

  Taking a long last look, Savaric turned slowly and began walking on the path that led away from the village and his home.

  CHAPTER 8

  Half a mile from the cottage, Savaric picked up the other half of his hidden bundle and checked the contents again. His traveling cloak with its many hidden pockets and thick seams stood ready, as did the pine needles with their little crocks of life-extending water from the invisible brook. He pressed on the seams of the cloak to make sure the map copies were still there. The original would stay hidden in the cottage for safekeeping. The seam ripper, needle, and thread had their own special pouch. He consolidated the contents of the pouch and threw it over his shoulder.

  He approached the roadway out of the village and then crossed over it, making sure that no one saw him. He didn’t want to draw attention to his departure. Plunging deep into the forest, he picked out a course parallel to the road. It would be slow going for a day, but at least he could stay away from wagging tongues and prying eyes.

  Savaric kept walking until dusk, moving quickly without rest and always on the alert. Finding a shallow meadow out of view from any farmhouses, he unrolled his thin bedroll and gathered wood and kindling for a fire. He struggled for an hour to light the fire, unused to the outdoor effects of the breeze blowing out the tinder. When the fire finally caught and burned steady, he permitted himself to flop down on his bedroll and rest for a few moments. He looked up at the night sky and thought about the events of the day.

  The treachery of his mother still smarted, even if it had been planned and coerced without her knowledge. It had all been too easy. Suddenly he realized how far he was from home. No one was going to tell him to milk the goats or thresh the grain or anything else for that matter. He was free for the first time in his life. He let out a huge whoop. He stood up and whooped again. Reveling in the freedom, he took off his breeches and then his shirt, stripping down to his bare flesh.

  He began to prance around the fire in jubilant, joyful leaps of freedom. Stretching and twirling, his whoops turned to a howl. When the sound of his howl echoed back to him from a canine source, Savaric stopped his dance and stood stock still. He turned to the source of the sound and listened again. The howl repeated, and then another from a short distance away from the first. He reached for his clothes and quickly put them back on. He reached into his pack for a knife and pulled his walking staff close. The howls sounded again, this time from further away. He sighed with relief and sat down on the ground beside the fire.

  “You stupid whelp. Howling like that. You’ve been quiet and careful all day, then you go and call attention to yourself like that,” he said to himself scathingly. Rummaging into his sack, he broke open a loaf of bread and ate ravenously.

  “Thanks, Nana.”

  He bit down on a piece of meat, ripping off a piece. “Hmm, Nana. Tougher than bark. No thanks due for that.”

  Savaric looked up again at the night sky, filling with stars. The wolves howled in the distance, beckoning the pack together. He shivered and pulled his cloak tighter and edged closer to the small fire. Staring into the fire, he thought about the days ahead. It took five days to walk to Deva. He wondered if he was going in the right direction, lifting his head to look for the North Star. It seemed like he was, but he didn’t know how far he was from the road. Tomorrow he would look for it. He stayed awake and kept watch as long as he could, but soon fell into an exhausted sleep.

  He dreamed of a woman dressed all in white, coming through the forest. A strange white light surrounded her, not made from fire. She moved slowly through the trees, seeming to pass through branches and trunks. Paralyzed, he watched her come closer and closer. Her black hair flowed out around her as if she floated under water. When she floated a few feet away, she suddenly changed into a crow with the head of a dragon. The creature rushed toward him with its mouth wide open and spouting flames that burned his skin without heat.

  He jolted awake, sweating and his heart beating fast. As his mind slowly cleared from the haze of sleep, he heard the sound of dry branch breaking. He stayed still, listening intently, unsure of the line between the dream and the unfamiliarity of the meadow. Some brush rustled behind him. The sound of his heart beating fast filled his ears. He reached over to grip his walking staff. He waited and heard a huffing, breathy noise. In as close to one movement as he could manage, he threw off his cloak, leaped up, and spun around facing away from the dying fire, his staff held before him.

  In the edges of light from the embers of the fire stood five wolves, their heads lowered, their red glowing eyes staring him down. Savaric swung his staff around and yelled out gutturally. One of the wolves flinched and took a half step back. The rest of the pack stood firm. He lunged toward them, waving the staff. This time none of the wolves moved and one began to growl, a menacing noise that emanated from deep within its great white chest.

  Savaric retreated to the embers of the fire. The wolves stepped forward. Trying desperately to think of what to do next, he stared down the growling leader with the white chest. Keeping his head forward and glancing down just briefly, he cast around with his foot to keep from falling in the fire. His foot caught in the dip in the ground and caught him off balance. Turning his ankle, he fell just inches from the fire.

  Sensing opportunity, the lead wolf leaped in a great arc from the edge of the camp toward him. Savaric watched in terror as the wolf flew through the air, seemingly in slow motion. At the last moment, he felt a branch of wood under his hand and pulled it out of the fire to get something, anything, between him and the wolf. To his surprise, the branch burst into a flaming torch, the embers stirred to life by his quick, desperate movements. The wolf landed squarely on the branch, its chest branded by the torch. Yelping in shock, the beast fell to its side and rolled to its feet. With the smell of burned fur wafting behind it, the wolf charged out of the clearing, the pack close behind. Their yips and barks faded into the night.

  Savaric lay on the ground, breathing hard. He looked incred
ulously at the branch in his hand, which smoked from being pressed into the dirt. “I just fought off a pack of wolves with this thing,” he said to himself. Exhausted, his head fell back to the ground. There would be no more sleep tonight.

  A few hours later, dawn broke over the hills in the distance. Savaric was a jittering bundle of nerves after trying to keep watch and jumping at every breath of wind and swaying branch for the rest of the night. After eating some more bread and goat meat, he put out the fire and gathered his few belongings. Then he set out, eager to get away from the meadow. Feeling anxious to get back to the road, he walked in the direction he thought it would be. After a few hours of walking and not coming across it, he decided to walk up a hill to try to get a better vantage point.

  From the top of the hill he scanned all around him, then finally saw through a break in the trees a mule cart plodding down the road some distance to the northeast. Sighing with relief that he wasn’t as lost as he thought, he ambled down the hill with a new correction in course.

  When he finally reached the road, he listened and watched for a short time to make sure he wasn’t going to fall in with any other travelers, and then headed north. Without the rough terrain holding him back, he gained distance rapidly. When the sun burned down at its hottest, he headed off the road and to the cover of a grove of trees to rest for a while. After a brief snooze, he went back to the road and started walking toward Deva again.

  Within minutes he realized he had made a mistake. Coming up behind him walked another solitary traveler, now running to catch up with him and calling out to him. He had forgotten to watch the road before he started his journey again. Muttering to himself for his carelessness, Savaric tried to walk faster to put distance between himself and the other traveler. It was no use though; the traveler called out to him.

  “Heigh there, traveler,” the young voice called out. “Slow down.”

  Savaric stopped and dropped his head back in exasperation. He could no longer ignore the insistent voice. He and Nana had discussed many times that he should not speak to or travel with anyone to ensure the safety of the key and the maps.

  “I say, can’t you hear me?”

  The owner of the voice reached him. “Hello,” he said, out of breath. “How are ye on this fine day?”

  “I am well,” Savaric said gruffly. He stood facing down the road.

  The person bounded in front of him and said, “Would ye like a companion to walk down this lonely road?”

  “No,” Savaric replied.

  “Oh.” The boy looked a few years younger than Savaric. “Why not?”

  “Um. Well. I just don’t,” Savaric replied, a bit flustered.

  “Well, that’s not a good reason. Do you know that there are thieves and murderers who watch this road?”

  Savaric’s eyes widened a bit before he caught himself. Nana said nothing about thieves and murderers. He replied, blustering, “Well, yes. But I can handle them. I can fight.”

  “Is that right?” the other boy said, watching Savaric’s face closely. “You can take on a gang of thieves? You know, I’m very good at catching liars myself.”

  Unfortunately, Savaric blushed.

  “Ha! You are a liar. Well, I don’t care if you want me or not. We’re walking together. Where are you going, anyway?”

  “Deva,” Savaric said, resigned.

  “Good. That’s where I’m going too.”

  And so they began walking down the road together. “Well, I suppose it’s all right for a little while,” Savaric said, feeling slightly relieved after his adventure the night before, and a bit upset at the same time. “I can protect you if you’d like.”

  “Well, yes. I suppose.”

  They walked in silence for a while.

  “Why are ye going to Deva? Do you have family there?”

  “No,” Savaric replied. “I don’t have family anymore.”

  “Are they all dead?”

  “No,” Savaric said sharply.

  The other boy flinched at his tone and stayed quiet for a while longer.

  “Then why are you going to Deva?”

  “None of your business.”

  “Oh, all right. Playing mysterious, are we?”

  “No! I just don’t want to talk to you.”

  The boy’s face fell. He started walking faster to get ahead. Savaric instantly felt guilty for hurting his feelings.

  “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “No. It’s proper; I forced myself on you.”

  “Well, yes, but…”

  The boy walked even faster.

  “Look, I’ll tell you,” Savaric said. “You just have to stop walking.”

  After thinking for a few moments, the other boy stopped and turned to look at him. He stood waiting expectantly.

  “I’m going to find work as a stable boy.”

  “Stable boy? That’s the big secret? You are really a strange one.” The boy started walking again. “But I guess you’ll do, fighter stable boy. At least we have a bit more of a chance together instead of apart.”

  The rest of the afternoon passed in silence. When they came to a brook that passed under a bridge, they stopped to get a drink of water. As they lay resting on the ground by the brook, a man on a big horse galloped by. A black hood hid his face, and his black cloak flew out behind him. The horse’s flanks dripped with foamy sweat.

  The boys looked at each other, their eyes wide. “Glad we weren’t in his way,” Savaric said. He went to the brook and filled his flask with water. “Shall we get on with it?”

  They walked until an hour before dusk, then looked for a place to camp for the night. Leaving the road, they explored the forest until they found a small clearing.

  “This will do,” Savaric said. “Plenty of tinder for a fire.”

  The other boy started the fire with Savaric watching closely. They each ate food out of their own bundles and sat staring into the fire.

  “Do you want to take the first watch? Er, what’s your name?”

  “Elias,” the boy replied. “And you?”

  “Savaric. I’ll take the first watch.”

  “Aye,” Elias said. He lay down and fell asleep almost instantly.

  Savaric woke Elias midway through the night. They changed the watch, and Savaric also fell asleep quickly. Not long after, he woke up from nasty dreams with a rough foot kicking at him. “What, what?”

  “You’re screaming, you idiot. Shut up! You’ll attract all the lurking animals and gangs right to us.”

  “Sorry,” he mumbled. “That must have been what happened last night.”

  “Last night? What happened last night?”

  But Savaric had fallen asleep again. Elias kicked at the dirt and muttered, “That’s one thing you’ll be telling me in the morning, ye secretive trollop.” He walked out of the circle of waning light from the fire and resumed walking in a sentry’s circle around the camp.

  At dawn, Elias kicked at him again. “Time to rise.”

  Savaric grumbled and rolled closer to the fire. “Cold,” he mumbled.

  “I’m stoking the fire now. Start thinking about what you are going to tell me about last night.”

  “Last night?” Savaric replied, confused. “Oh, that,” he said, remembering. He stared into the fire, silent for a long time.

  “Well?”

  Savaric snapped out of his reverie. “Yes, well. It was nothing really. Just a pack of wolves.”

  “What! A pack of wolves? There’s nothing ‘just’ about a pack of wolves.”

  “I had a dream about this beautiful woman coming through the trees. Then she turned into—”

  “You’re telling me your dream? Pack of wolves!” Elias interrupted.

  “Yes, I was getting to that. But if you insist, I woke up from my dream and I must have screamed like you said. When I looked around, there was a pack of wolves on the edge of my campsite.” Savaric told him about the branch that became a torch, falling, the wolf’s giga
ntic leap through the air, and branding the wolf with the torch.

  Elias looked at him with his eyes wide. “By god’s body, are ye lying again?”

  “No,” Savaric said, his face set like flint.

  Elias eyed him closely. “Ye are not lying!” he said, surprised.

  “No,” Savaric repeated quietly. “Let’s just hope we don’t see them again. I was lucky the first time.”

  The younger boy swallowed hard and stared into the fire. “Wolves,” he whispered.

  “Ready to eat?” Savaric said cheerfully.

  Before long they walked back to the road. Today several ox carts and coaches passed them. As they got closer to Deva, they saw more and more people. The day and the next night passed uneventfully. On the next day of the voyage, the flow of people traveling grew thicker.

  “Are we going to reach town today?” Savaric asked. “There are so many people on this road.”

  “Yes. We’ll be there tonight.”

  “Oh, that’s surprising. Nana said this voyage takes five days.”

  “And who might Nana be?”

  Savaric looked away, hoping to hide any blushing. “Just someone I talked to.”

  “Someone you talked to that you called Nana? Really, you’re a terrible liar, Savaric.” He stopped walking.

  Savaric’s face hardened. “If you really must know, you nosy little bother, Nana is my grandmother. She and my mother have thrown me out. I’m now completely alone. Is there anything else you’d like to know?”

  Elias looked stunned for a moment, then blurted, “Why did they throw you out?”

  Incredulous, Savaric pushed past the younger boy and kept walking down the road. Hours of travel passed with a stony silence lingering between them.

  As the afternoon shadows stretched longer across the road, the small farms they had passed for the past few days became little cottages that stood closer and closer together. Just as dusk fell, Elias stopped and turned to Savaric.

  “See here, I know you don’t want to talk to me. But I need to tell you something. This is where we need to stop for the night. We can still make a campfire on the edge of this field over by those trees. If we go any further, we’ll be looking to make a fire in someone’s garden. Agreed?”