It had been two years since Macadam Snore arrived at the white castle of Galdorgalere; home of the heinous Wizard. Ever since the Wizard saved Macadam's village from destruction from the Grima Pinbeam, Macadam had been duty bound to serve the Wizard for eternity. Macadam knew he would never be free to enjoy the life he once knew with his parents-helping his father sow and reap corncrops, baking bread with his mother and playing Wisp with the other village children-but never imagined his servitude would be as ruthless, tiring or dispiriting. No matter what he did he could never seem to please the Wizard. He would follow instructions to the letter but the Wizard would always find a way to critise his work, punishing him with either no food or worse, locking him in the castle basement for a day where spiders the size of his hand scuttled across putrid puddles on the floor, lizards longer than his body climbed the slime covered walls, and skeletons of the Wizards previous assistants lay in corners like discarded kindling.
Every night Macadam tried to stem the tears from flowing down his face at the despair that was his life. He didn't want to give the Wizard the satisfaction of knowing he was being tormented, but invariably one stray droplet of salty water would roll down his cheek before being swiftly brushed away by Macadam's dirty hand.
Then one day the Wizard summoned Macadam to the Grand Reception room where the Wizard was hosting a dinner for the most eminent magicians, sorcerers and shamens in the land. It was the most lavish occasion Macadam had ever seen. Silks of red, gold, blue and green were draped in deep swathes across the ceiling, beautiful girls with long waves of auburn hair danced in the middle of the room whilst a hundred or more magicians dressed in the finest clothes they could conjure watched on from teh comfort of the gold chairs they sat on. But Macadam was drawn to the food; so abundant he was sure it could feed the entire population of Grimwold for a year-one hundred spit-roasted pigs, four thousand potatoes, two thousand carrots, seventy gallons of gravy and more besides were carried through the room on glimmering gold trays.
"Boy, come here," said the Wizard to Macadam.
Macadam, with his head held low in the manner the Wizard expected, shuffled barefoot to the Wizard's side.
"What is your bidding, my master?" Macadam said.
"I grow weary of these dancers. Their toing and froing is making my head hurt. I want you to entertain me and my guests with a story," said the Wizard. With that he slapped his hands in quick succession and the six dancers dispersed, scurring off to the sides of the room.
Macadam starred out to the room of expectant faces that were clearly eager to hear what tale he had to tell. He trembled, not only at the thought of having to tell a story to a room full of strangers but to have to tell one that would please not only the Wizard but all of his guests as well.
He took a deep breath, stepped forward, summoned the strength from within him and took advantage of the only opportunity he had to be heard.
"My tale is one of truth and is about Linus Bartleby, the greatest magician in the world," he began to a chorus of gasps.
From the corner of his eye Macadam could see the bubble of anger forming on the Wizard's ruddy cheeks. It was the effect Macadam had hoped for.
"He was a legend and everywhere he went the people adored him. But he was a good magician. He helped those that most needed it. He gave food to the hungry, water to the thirsty and a home for those with nowhere to live. But the other magicians in the world were jealous of his fame. One day they captured Linus and threatened him to relinquish his powers or face death. Linus, without a glimmer of fear, said that he would only if the magicians could prove they were truely powerful enough. He told them to all cast a vanishing spell on each other. The magician who was left would be crowned the best."
The Wizard arose abruptly, his face purple with rage and his cheeks puffing. "I will not be outdone by this...Linus," he huffed. "I have never heard of such a tale but will heartily say that I am the most powerful wizard in the land."
One of the Wizard's guests rose suddenly and thumped his fist on the table. "That is an outrage I am the most powerful."
"No, I am," said another.
Before long the Wizard's grand reception room was filled with angry, over-inflated claims of grandeur and superiority.
Macadam stood back and waited for what he was sure was the inevitable.
One by one each of the magician's cast fiery bolts of light across the room. They bounced off the walls, brought down the silk veils from the ceiling, set fire to the tables and chairs until puff after puff, each and every magician disappeared, including the great Wizard himself.
Macadam sat back grabbed a leg of pork and feasted like he had never feasted before.
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