Renier had been offered twelve wives, eighteen mules, and six wagons by the time the caravan reached the foothills of the Taurus mountains. At midday, they stopped in the town of Toroman.
Renier and two others provided security for a group of merchants, Osman included, who wanted to sell their wares at the town square. As they entered the square on the back left, there was an upturn stall. Its wares were strewn all over the ground. A portly middle-aged man, who was obviously a merchant, was on the ground, and a young boy was next to him. A well-dressed young man was in front of both, and two guards flanked them, sword points pressed menacingly to their backs.
“Cut off their hands! That’s the punishment for thieves,” The young man angrily shouted.
Usually, Renier would not have cared and much less interfered. How someone punished thieves was not his problem. But, although it strained him, he now scanned with his perception constantly. ‘That boy…’
The guards swung their swords to administer the punishment, but as the hands were about to be sliced at the wrist, a metal clang was heard, and the blades broke.
“Imbeciles!” The young nobleman was livid. “Can’t you even carry out a simple order? Cut off their hands!”
By this time, Renier had neared the group. He desperately wanted to save that boy.
“Efendiler, this was a miracle! I saw it with my own eyes. The blades were stopped by the most holy!” He shouted to the crowd. “It is the will of Allah!”
“It’s a miracle.”
“The will of Allah!”
Many in the crowd started to repeat.
Renier neared the young nobleman and addressed him loud enough so the crowd could hear, “Efendi, my teacher, Imam Al-Jalil, taught me that ‘Mercy enhances honor, while harshness breeds contempt.’ It’s the will of Allah, after all.”
“I’ll remember this,” he said under his breath while he looked daggers at Renier.
Renier quickly helped the boy, “Come with me before he changes his mind.”
“I’m going to take this boy to the caravan,” Renier stated in a tone that broke no dissent. Then he left the square, the boy in tow, and after a couple of streets, he turned into an alley and stopped.
The boy dropped to his knees, “please, master, I’ll do anything you ask. Just let me go,” the boy pleaded, tears in his eyes. But Renier’s senses told him it was an act. ‘Not a bad actor.’
“I didn’t save you to kill you. What’s your name?”
“S… Skandar,” he answered, feinting fear.
“Very well, Skandar. Do you have any family?”
“No, Efendi,” the boy switched to respect.
“Where do you live?”
“Here and there, Efendi, anywhere I can find a hole,” he noticed that the tears would do no good.
“If you want, you can travel to Ancyra with me on the caravan. I’ll provide food and a small wage for your assigned chores. If you prove yourself, I can take you on as an apprentice,” said Renier, thinking of ways to entice the boy. ‘Who would have thought that in this out-of-the-way town, I would find a boy with the genetics to awaken,’ he mused as he scanned the boy further. He was skinny and malnourished, but a year of exercise, meditation, good food, and then to Ombre Island to awaken him.
“How old are you, boy?”
“It’s been five winters since my parents died. I don’t remember much before that.” It didn’t matter; Renier could tell his skeletal age was about twelve. Another five or six years and the Enclave would have a stage-three or stage-four disciple. It was a start; only ninety-nine more to go.
“What’s your answer, boy? Do you want to go with me?” Skandar thought for a second and then nodded his head.
“Alright, Skandar. This is our deal. You will follow my instructions to the letter without hesitation. You will not run away, steal, fight, kill, or otherwise cause trouble at any time unless I tell you. You will not talk about what I teach you to anyone. If you break a rule, I. WILL. KNOW,” warned Renier, and for effect, he used ethermask to change his face to look like the older Gazi as he spoke. Skandar’s eyes grew wider and wider. Now, the fear was real.
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“Do we understand each other?”
“Yes, master!”
Renier returned his face to that of a young man and pulled out a talisman from his ring. Skandar almost fell backward when he saw it appear in Renier's hand.
“Give me your right hand,” a quick influx of Mu energy, and Skandar was knocked out. Renier placed the talisman on his right palm, and it embedded itself with a flash of brilliant white light.
The talisman was similar to the one Renier had found in the catacombs. Of course, this one didn’t have Ayg’s consciousness in it. But it would mask Skandar from other Sangami - a change Renier had made - help his body prepare for the awakening process and give him a measure of healing in case of trouble. These talismans only held eight units of energy, but it was enough for an astralmend.
He woke Skandar and showed him his palm. “I’ve marked you!” He just wanted to scare the kid a little until they got to know each other.
Renier told Captain Hazim about Skandar and left him with the other merchants to return to the town and purchase supplies. They made up the story that he was taking the boy back to his family in Ancyra, and everyone seemed to accept it.
He purchased a bedroll and food for Skandar and walked the various stalls in the town square. There was a stall with assorted knives and swords. “Do you have any wooden swords for training?”
His purchases done, he started to cross the square back to the caravan.
’Here they come,’ he thought. Ten guards were making their way toward him.
“You!” A tall, burly guard pointed at Renier, “Come with us. Balamir Ağa wants to talk to you,” he continued as the guards surrounded him.
‘Of course. I’ll follow you!”
“Give me your sword,” the guard motioned to take Renier’s yataghan, but as quick as lightning, Renier hit his wrist with his index finger. The guard's wrist went limp, and he retracted his hand as if a snake had bitten him.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, friend. This yataghan has special sentimental value,” Renier warned.
They escorted him to the main tent of a camp in the northern part of town. Inside, seated behind an ornate wooden table reading some official documents, was the young nobleman.
He looked up and immediately barked at the guard, “Why is he armed? Remove that sword.”
Once again, the guard moved to take the sword, and Renier hit his wrist again. This time, it was hard enough that the cracking of bones was heard.
“Don’t do that, friend! Next time, you’ll lose the hand,” turning to the nobleman, he said with indifference, “What is it you want?”
“You’ve made a grave mistake. Do you know who I am?”
“The real question is, do you know who I am?” Answered Renier, “If that is all, I’ll be leaving. I’m a busy man.”
“Take him!”
Before they could take a step, the four guards were on the floor. Balamir’s eyes went wide, ‘he didn’t even move,’ he thought.
“Efendi, you do not want to do this. I don’t want to kill my cousin’s men. So let’s just part ways.” Renier turned to leave.
“Guaa…” Balamir started to shout, but it died in his throat when Renier turned and fixed him with a stare.
He said quietly, “Before you finish the first word, you and your men will be dead. Then, I’ll have to kill the men outside, and I really don’t want to do that. I will be reporting this incident to Adrianople.”
Fear started to permeate Balamir, ‘who was this man? Was he connected to the palace?’
“Efendi Bey, I failed to see the currents of the Bosphorus. Have mercy, I now understand,” implored Balamir when he realized he was faced with someone who could easily crush him.
“Let me give you this small gift,” he said, going to a trunk and pulling a small box full of rare spices.
“Please, Efendi Bey, take this small token,” Balamir said, handing him the box and bowing.
“There will not be a next time, Balamir!”
“Here,” he threw a small blue round pill at the sergeant, “this will help your wrist heal properly.” Then he turned and left the tent.
When he returned to the camp, Hazim was gathering a group of guards, “Ohran, they said you had been taken. We were going to get you.”
“Just the Ağa wanting to give me a small gift,” he answered, showing the box, “for helping him see the errors of his ways.”
“Ahhh,” Hazim was dumbfounded. ‘Helping him see his errors? Who was this guy? And I had him digging latrines.’
“It’s good you’re back, Orhan. Rest up today. We’ll be leaving tomorrow early.’
But Renier couldn’t rest. Skandar was nowhere to be seen. He extended his perception and found him hidden in an alley on the west side of town.
“Boy, get out here. Didn’t I tell you to stay in the camp?” Renier yelled from the entrance to the alley.
“Master! They said you had been taken, so I hid. That nobleman wanted to cut my hand,” the boy explained.
‘Get back to camp. Have dinner, then sleep. Your training starts early tomorrow.”
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“Up, boy!”
Skandar opened his eyes. ‘Again. It’s not even dawn! Does this old man not sleep?’
They had been traveling for two weeks, and every morning, his new master had come and rudely woken him.
When the old man had said he would be training, he didn’t imagine it would at this ungodly hour. “Follow me!”
His eyes half closed, dragging his feet, Skandar followed his new master, wondering what further torture the old man would dream up today. ‘I should have stayed in the town. At least I could sleep!’
“Start stretching. Then, the routine I taught you. You should have memorized it by now. If you make a mistake, then you will have to do five more.”
That was the other thing. This old man was a masochist. He fixed everything with more exercise. Forgot to do something; five more. Did them too slow; five more. Didn’t do them right; five more. Didn’t pay attention; five more. ‘Is that the only number he knows?’
Skandar did the routine, and he only made one mistake. ‘It was less than yesterday,’ he thought as he took the wooden sword and practiced the lunges. ‘I’m not missing breakfast today.’ If he practiced too slowly, the caravan would start to move, and there would be no breakfast. His stomach had quickly grown accustomed to eating regularly, and if he missed breakfast, it would growl like a rabid wolf.
Two hours later, they were in their customary position on top of Osman’s wagon. He was trying to meditate, but his mind wondered. There was a group of five men in the caravan, and whenever they met his master, they would call him Elder. ‘Did they know who his master really was?” He wondered as he tried to concentrate on his meditation. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Renier, ’The old man is getting angry. How does he know when I’m not doing it right?’
“Boy, concentrate, or you’ll do an extra half hour of exercise tomorrow!”
‘Oh no. That meant getting up even earlier!’
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‘There’s not enough ambient Mu energy. I will have to find a stable place to train him and lay down an array to concentrate the energy. I need him to be stronger before we go to Constantinople, and he has to be inside Aymbria by the time he’s fifteen. That only gives me a couple of months. In Ancyra, perhaps. Maybe the Imam or Mustafa Pasha could help me find an out-of-the-way place. I should leave the caravan in the next town and travel faster. But first, I have to get rid of the Ebon,’ Renier was lost in his thoughts when he detected ten riders about a kilometer back. ‘Where the Yendeci back?’