Prince of the North by Harry Turtledove

Author:Harry Turtledove [Turtledove, Harry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781504009478
Publisher: Open Road Media Sci-Fi & Fantasy
Published: 2015-06-08T12:00:00+00:00

VIII

“My poor ear,” Rihwin moaned for what had to be the five hundredth time. Gerin prided himself on being a patient man, but when his patience snapped, it snapped spectacularly.

“By all the gods, I’m sick to death of listening to your whining,” he growled, and grabbed Rihwin. The southerner tried to twist free, but Gerin was the best wrestler in the northlands. He twisted one of Rihwin’s arms behind his back and started frog-marching him toward the shack where he worked his magics.

“What are you doing?” Rihwin yelped.

“I am going to fix that ear of yours, one way or the other,” the Fox said. Rihwin hadn’t struggled hard till then, but he started to. Gerin twisted his arm up a little higher. Rihwin gasped as he felt his shoulder joint creak.

Inside the shack, Gerin slammed him down onto the one rickety chair in front of the table where he labored at his sorcery. He’d managed to overawe Rihwin, which wasn’t easy. The southerner made no effort to bolt. In a small voice, he repeated, “What are you doing?”

“What I said I’d do: use the law of similarity to build that ear of yours back to where it’s the same as the other one. The spell should be simplicity itself: what could possibly go wrong?”

Now Rihwin did try to rise. “I’d really rather not find out. Given the choice between a half-trained wizard—which, you must admit, is a charitable description of your talents—and keeping silent about my mutilation, I opt without hesitation for silence.”

Gerin slammed him down again. “You’ve said that before, over and over. You’ve gone back on your word, too, over and over. Now, don’t be a donkey—just sit there and I’ll set you right in no time. Unless you’d rather I tried that operation you described—”

“No,” Rihwin said hastily. “You’re sure you know what you’re doing?” He had the look of a man sitting down to gamble against a fellow notorious for using loaded dice.

“I know what I have to do,” Gerin answered, which was not quite an affirmative. He flipped through the vellum pages of a codex until he came to a cantrip which was a general application of the law of similarity. Then he paused a while in thought. Suddenly he smacked one fist into the other palm. “The very thing!” he exclaimed. He turned to Rihwin. “I’m going out to find something to tailor the spell to your very problem. You’d better be here when I get back.”

“What are you looking for?” Rihwin still sounded suspicious.

Gerin grinned triumphantly. “Earwigs.”

“Well, father Dyaus, that’s ingenious,” Rihwin said. “Perhaps I shall be here when you return.”

With that Gerin had to be content. He went out and started turning over stones in the courtyard. Under one not very far from the stables, he found several of the shiny, dark brown insects. They tried to crawl away, but he grabbed them and carried them back to the shack. “Even the little pincers on their posteriors will serve symbolically to represent the ring you wore in your ear.

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