The Sage Who Couldn't Play
He'd held out hope that it wasn't so, but it really was Go — old-fashioned Go, at that, with no compensation stones to soften the blow. Otherwise, it was exactly as advertised.
"You form territories like this, and whoever claims the most wins. Do you follow?"
"I understand."
"Good. Then shall we play a round and see what you learn?"
Suetleug said this while rubbing his palms together. Johan had wondered how the old man intended to pass the time, but this worked out nicely. Toying with a knight across a game board would be an entertaining diversion indeed.
This man... he knows it's my first time, and he won't even grant me a few handicap stones?
The old mage, it seemed, had no conscience whatsoever — very fitting for a wizard, all things considered. He'd announced a handicap and then placed not a single stone. The sheer audacity of it...
Johan sank into thought.
At Go, he was dozens of times more confident than he'd ever been at chess. It was a hobby he had once poured endless hours into, after all. He had held his own against professional players at a two-stone handicap, even. And to top it off, the mage was looking down on him as thoroughly as a man could.
But I'll give it my best regardless.
For all he knew, this old man could be a master of unimaginable caliber. So Johan resolved to place every stone with his full strength.
"......"
Suetleug's mouth hung wide open. His hands were trembling.
"I swear on the Ipael River, that is not the play of a man touching the board for the first time...!"
"It is my first game. Truly."
"The Sultan's own master players couldn't place stones like that!"
No, the problem is that you can't play.
Johan thought this to himself but held his tongue. There were too many things he wanted to ask the mage.
Frankly speaking, Suetleug's skill was, at best, that of a rank amateur. Worse, he relied exclusively on ancient, ancient patterns from ages past — there was no way he could pose a real threat to Johan. It was only because Johan had begun showing mercy midway through that the game ended this close. Had he decided to be ruthless, Suetleug would have wept tears of blood.
"In any case, since I won — may I ask my questions now?"
"One..."
"?"
"One more game. Won't you grant me just one more?"
"We had an agreement, though..."
"I'll honor the agreement! I swear it on the name of the Ipael River — just one more game!"
Unbelievable, this man...
Johan was speechless. Then again, he could understand the sentiment. Anyone who took Go even half seriously always believed that when they lost after getting careless, it was the carelessness that lost the game — not the opponent.
"If I lose this one as well, I shall give you a gift."
"Hm. Well, if you insist..."
Johan feigned hesitation for a moment, then accepted without delay.
He had thought himself possessed of no particular talent beyond swinging a sword — who knew it would prove useful like this!
Suetleug sat with a look on his face like a man half out of his wits. He had been brutally trounced by a young knight playing the game for the very first time.
Johan, out of consideration, waited quietly.
What if he sulks and refuses to teach me anything now?
But Suetleug was not so graceless a mage as that. The shock took hold at first, yet before long he steadied himself and spoke.
"Ask what you wish to ask."
"Thank you. Then..."
"But back there on the board — if I had placed here instead..."
"......"
"Ah. My apologies. Ask your questions."
"So what, exactly, is magic?"
"To lend your ear to the vast expanse of nature, to understand what it says, and to make requests of it. That is magic."
Suetleug answered without a moment's hesitation. The practiced ease of his reply suggested the question had been put to him far more than once or twice.
"I'm afraid I don't quite follow."
"Naturally you wouldn't. That is merely how I cast magic. Ask another mage and you'll hear something entirely different. Some find secrets in the sequences and patterns of numbers and work their spells through them; others discover something in the fumes of sulfur and mercury."
"Aren't they all doing the same thing?"
At the tactless question, Suetleug answered with visible irritation.
"Can you handle every weapon with equal mastery? If there are knights who excel with the sword, there are surely knights who excel with the lance. Mages are no different. Do not think of magic as simple, but do not make it more complicated than it is either. Magic is... a kind of secret. Those who understand such secrets and can wield them — those are the ones we call mages. Did that answer suffice?"
"It is both clear and unclear."
"If you could grasp it at a single hearing, what would that make me?"
"Then let me ask something easier. Can I learn magic?"
"...Are you certain you're a knight?"
A masterful mage was treated as a trusted advisor or a sage by the lords he served. It was a position far better than that of most minor nobility — but...
Just as a knight, for all his money, did not envy the merchant's wealth, neither did a mage envy anyone else their lot.
"Are there no knights who use magic?"
"Not that I'm aware of. It is hardly an art one could learn that easily, and what business would a knight have with it anyway? The reason I am called the sage of the Ipael River is that I learned the river's secrets from my master, and with them the art of commanding the river and its waters. My master heard the river's secrets from his master in turn. The Ipael River is capricious and cunning — it does not readily share its favored passages with just anyone. Even if I told you everything I know, you could not simply copy what I do."
As he concluded, Suetleug swept the board aside and called for a slave. The slave brought a copper basin engraved with a peculiar pattern.
"Never did I imagine I would say such words, but... there is little good to be had in learning magic. Just rise through the ranks and put mages to work instead."
When knights under a lord's service feared or felt uneasy about magic, Suetleug had in fact delighted in teasing them all the more.
But what manner of knight wanted to learn magic? Johan left him little choice but to discourage it.
"Do you know why I brought out this vessel?"
"?"
"Because your next question will be what one can actually do with magic."
"!"
"...It is a question even a three-year-old could predict, so don't look so surprised. I do not ordinarily answer such questions."
"Is the answer tied to the secrets of magic?"
"No. It is because the more mysterious I remain, the more gold I can command. Secrets, bah... The noble lords believe I can summon thunder and lightning and send rivers overflowing their banks. At the very least, they believe I can manage a tenth of that. But what I can actually do is..."
Suetleug passed his hand slowly over the basin. At once, the water within began to boil and bubble.
"A spell for boiling water?"
"...Do you call every sound that comes out of a man's mouth magic? This is merely preparation. I know a few of the river's secrets, and through them I can handle water a little. Water tells you a great deal. Let's see... is there anyone you're curious about? Someone whose letters stopped coming long ago?"
"......"
This time it was Johan's turn to fall into thought. The only people he could honestly claim to wonder about were the members of his house. The half-siblings he had left behind.
"If you've chosen someone, place your hand in the water and think of them."
No need to explain — how convenient. Thinking as much, Johan dipped his hand into the water. It was boiling, yet not hot. The water rippled, then shifted its very shape. Suetleug narrowed his eyes and strained to read the pattern.
"Let's see... a quiet, secluded place... silence... the symbol of the sun... Ah. Did they perhaps enter a monastery? It seems they're staying at one, in any case."
If the escape to the church had gone smoothly, a priest might well have arranged for them to be sent to a monastery. Johan began to feel a flicker of trust on that point.
"I couldn't say one way or the other."
"Hm. In any case, that is about the extent of what can be read. And do not place too much faith in it. As I said — water is fickle."
Having the basin taken away, Suetleug continued.
"As you have seen, I can read the present and the future from water, and I can make fouled water clean again. If I prepare for a very long time, I can on occasion even call down rain."
"Is there nothing more powerful?"
Suetleug looked slightly put out.
"Is this not powerful enough for you? Just like a knight — only concerned with what the eye can see. I know what you're getting at. Conjuring fire, hurling stones to shatter castle walls, that sort of thing. That is not my specialty, and even those who devoted themselves to such secrets could not manage it easily."
"I apologize if I gave offense. I merely wondered how you would handle yourself if you met an enemy, Lord Suetleug."
"...Naturally my slaves fight in my place. What else?"
Suetleug stared at Johan as though he had just said something utterly preposterous. Anyone might be excused such ignorance, but a mage himself marching onto the field of battle? Absurd.
Ah. So that's how it is.
Johan realized he had judged wrongly. Come to think of it, the idea that mages fought their own battles was pure preconception. As the old man said, it was far more plausible that they simply didn't.
"Tsk, tsk. I see it now — you meant to learn magic and put it to use in a fight, didn't you?"
Suetleug had apparently misunderstood, and shook his head as he spoke.
"If that is what you're after, give it up. With a shallow heart like that, nature will never surrender its secrets. And even if you did learn, it would be difficult to turn to battle besides... Now. Take these."
"?"
Without warning, Suetleug drew two small glass vials from within his robe. Sealed with corks and wax, each held a liquid that swayed gently inside. One glowed white; the other gave off a viscous, crimson light.
"What are they?"
"Did I not promise you a gift? River water into which I breathed my own secrets. For the first, apply it or drink it when you are wounded... for the other, feed it to a man you wish dead, or coat your blade with it."
The Water of Blessing, and the Water of Wrath.
Even Johan, who knew little of such things, could tell these two were precious. Especially something like the Water of Blessing, which healed wounds — how could such a thing be anything but rare?
"Am I worthy to accept a gift like this?"
"I swore upon the Ipael River, so I have no choice. Were I to give you some paltry trifle, the river would never share its secrets with me again."
Suetleug said this with an expression of profound regret. Who knew a bit of idle Go, played to while away the hours, would cost him so dearly?
"Then I shall put them to good and grateful use."
"Have all your questions been answered?"
"Yes."
"Then one more game."
"...Ah. Of course. Shall I place a few handicap stones for you this time?"
"......"
Suetleug flushed crimson and deliberated for a long moment.
"Just... just two stones."
"Will two be enough for you?"
"...Three."
The moment Iaon emerged, an employee came rushing over to report that both Johan and Suetleug were waiting for her. Iaon asked, startled:
"Why was I not told at once?"
"F-forgive me. Both of them instructed us to say nothing..."
Suetleug being an eccentric was one thing, but Johan too? Iaon shook her head and spoke.
"Henceforth, you will consider the guild's interests first. How do you intend to make use of the goodwill a client has shown us, if you squander it before it bears fruit?"
"Ah...!"
Clicking her tongue, Iaon strode quickly out the door. Johan aside, Suetleug was an old man capricious enough to show up unannounced, wait for her in person, and then sulk over it.
"...?"
"Just... just let me take back one move."
"You've already taken back three."
"I swear on the Ipael River — this is the last!"
"Are you not afraid of angering the river, swearing on it so freely?"