“Of course, master,” Halferd answered quickly. “May I ask who you have selected?”
“You may not,” Wanno said without rebuke. “The less you know, the easier it will be to mask all of this from those powers who seek to undo my protection. That would be a hot fire for us both now, wouldn’t it, boy?”
His lips pressed into a tight line, Halferd bobbed his head just as if he were an apprentice lad, not the able sorcerer he actually was. “I will complete a threefold warding, master, and stand alertly on guard until you return.”
Wanno looked briefly at him, then nodded. “Yes. Keep a sharp eye out for hawks…” the mage said. his words trailing off as he suddenly brought his arms up in a sweeping gesture and spoke a word that sounded impossible to speak, even for one so skilled at dweomers as Halferd was. At its utterance, Wanno was gone with a popping sound, followed by the whoosh of air rushing in to fill the space where he had been a split-second before.
Hawks? The man really is beginning to slip into dotage, Halferd thought. Demons or devils, yes; perhaps some horror from Tarterus or Gehenna; but… hawks? “Bah!” Halferd muttered aloud. “This is for you!” he added, making vicious strokes as he drew a precise set of sigils and strange marks on the stone floor. Instead of scribing the lines and shapes with tenderness and deliberation, Halferd worked as if he were wielding a sharp instrument upon exposed flesh.
When Wanno eventually returned, his apprentice had done all he had been charged with and was alertly seated near the infant, an old, gnarled staff held in his grasp. When his gaze fell upon this, Wanno spoke sharply. “What are you doing with my staff!” It was an accusation, not a question.