The Way of the Warrior-Wizard
Chapter 1: The Wee Professor

Duncan MacGregor awoke at 5:00 a.m. in the morning, bothexcited and anxious. He was excitedbecause he was going to be engaging in his favourite occupation: he would be entering his very first day ofteaching students history at the local University here in Queenston, Ontario. He was anxious, because of the factthat he was only fourteen years old.

There was a great deal of controversy over the fact thatKing’s University was hiring a fourteen-year-old boy to teach a history class;he was, however, only going to be teaching one class every other day because ofrestrictions on how long a child of his age could be permitted to work. Even so, it was the beginning of therealization of his most ambitious dream, which was to become a professor ofhistory at a respected university. The university had, after much deliberation, decided to welcome him in thespecialized role of an adjunct/assistant professor in spite of his tender age. Duncan was among one ofthe youngest PhD. graduates in the world, having earned his PhD. by the age of twelve. He had also shown a singular talent fororganizing information and presenting it in a straight-forward and often entertainingmanner. He had spent the last two yearsas a visiting guest lecturer at various institutions, and was knowncolloquially at his home university, the University of Drumnadrochit,as “the wee Professor.” He now felt,however, that he wanted and was ready for an actual position at a real university.

This ambition won him no accolades at home. Here on the MacGregor farm, Duncan was expected to work just as hard athis chores as the other children in his very large family.

Duncan’sfather was an elderly, white-bearded man in ridiculously good health, giventhat he was one hundred and three years old. No one believed that he was that old, of course, because he seemed tohave more energy than a truck-load of twenty-year olds. Nevertheless, Hamish MacGregor had a copy of his birthrecord to prove his age.

He told everyone that his mother, who had long ago beenknown by the people in her highland village asa common-sense herbalist with healing powers, was a “witch”. He went on to say that at an early age, shehad spilled a “potion of youth” on top of him and his twin brother,Calvin. This, Hamish explained toskeptical modernists, was why he and his brother were not only still alive butraising families and running thriving businesses and farms as well. Hamish claimed that he, as the son of a“witch”, was a bona fide “warlock”, or a male witch.

When he used the terms “warlock” or “witch”, hemeant them in the most positive sense, in spite of all the negativeconnotations that had been associated with these words for manycenturies. In some circles, a “warlock”was an “oath-breaker” or liar, but Hamish did not intend for his title to beunderstood in that particular fashion. In fact, he prided himself on beinga man of his word. In the old days in Scotland,Hamish had told his children that the term “warlock” was also said to havemeant a “cunning man”, and everyone could agree Hamish was certainly that. As a warlock (in the most positive sense ofthe word), he felt that he had the power to live as long as he bloody wellpleased. He had an added incentive forliving a long time, because he had created a rather large family during thepast twenty years with his much younger wife, Kyra.

As a veteran of both World Wars, most people had to admitthat Hamish MacGregor had certainly earned the right to claim a title with theword “war” in it, even if no one in this day and age particularly believed in warlocks. Nonetheless, the name “Hamish the Warlock”had unfortunately stuck; and it was somewhat embarrassing to his son Duncan,who hoped to be seen as a serious scholar and not the “son of that daft auld warlock,Hamish MacGregor.”

The other children in the family saw their “magicheritage” as a source of pride. They always bragged about it and their father’s many “supernatural powers”,to other, more normal, kids. His siblingswere not in the least bit interested in Duncan’saspirations as a rational-minded professor, and they often chided him for distancinghimself from the rest of the family “justso you can get ahead in the adult world”.

“Duncan MacGregor!” cried the stern voice of his father,“are ye no' out of your bed yet? There is work to be done, laddie!”

Duncansighed, hauling himself out of his bunk bed. His fraternal twin brother, Caleb, was already up and dressed. Caleb was bigger and bulkier than his twin,and considerably more capable when it came to physical labour. He was the quintessential “farm boy” who hadno problem shoveling manure or fixing machinery, whenever it wasnecessary.

Duncan was hopeless when it came tousing his hands in a practical fashion but soared above his brother and justabout everyone else, when it came to intellectual pursuits. Caleb struggled with dyslexia, so readingwas a very difficult task for him. Duncan tried to tutor him, but Caleb resented being taught by his own brother. The pair of them likewise argued wheneverCaleb tried to direct Duncan in any kind of practical task, as Duncan dislikedbeing “ordered about” by his twin.

“You feed the indoor animals,” Caleb told him. “I’ll be inthe barn feeding the horses, goats, and chickens.”

“I don’t need you to tell me what to do,” Duncan grumbled.

“Silence, lads!” Hamish called up to them. “I will hear noarguments between you today.”

Duncanpulled on his clothes, hanging up his suit jacket and tie until after he hadcompleted his assigned chores for the morning. There was a rotating list of duties for each of them everyweek. It had been agreed that Duncan would be sparedthe barn work on the days that he taught, because of the fact that he needed tomaintain a minimum odour to work in a classroom.

Duncan’sjob this morning entailed helping the wee one, Hamish Junior, to get dressed. After that, he aided him to feed the many dogs and cats that lived within thefamily abode. Wee Hamish had been bornwith Down Syndrome and was seven years old. He shared a special bond with his big brother Duncan, who always tried to teach him new things. Duncan let Hamish, or“Hami” as he was known to the family, scoop the kibble out of the huge bag andput it in the bowls of the seven collies that lived with the MacGregors. He sometimes had to guide the child’s hand sothat the kibble went into the bowls and not onto the floor.

There were one or more “nanny-dogs” to aid the parents inminding each child under the age of twelve. Duncan no longer needed “minding” by a nanny-dog, but he did have a German Shepherd who had been assigned to him as an extra security measure, because he had been attracting a good deal ofmedia attention lately over his new, prestigious job.

The dog’s name was Major Davison, or “Davy” for short, andhe accompanied Duncaneverywhere he went. When Hami and Duncanarrived at Davy’s bowl, they instructed him to “sit” in the gaelic language, asthey had with all the other dogs. “Suidh!” Duncancommanded the canine, and Hami repeated the word. Davy obeyed the command, as he alwaysdid. He had, after all, been trained bythe Great Dog Charmer and warlock, Hamish MacGregor.

Their father insisted that the family speak only in gaelicwhen at home, so all the animals had been trained to mind gaelic commands. Duncanenjoyed speaking the ancient Scottish language, and so he was more than happyto comply with this particular edict of his father’s. There were many other, less enjoyable “familylaws” with which Duncantook issue; but he needed to be careful not to challenge his father toovociferously if he wanted to be permitted to teach at the university.

Hami and Duncan finished their feeding tasks with both thedogs and the house-cats. They were, thankfully, not expected to feed the barn-cats—Caleb and their sister Cara woulddo that.

“Come, quickly, and eat, Duncan,” Kyra MacGregor, Hamish’soften-harried wife, said to him. “I’ll fix Hami’s oatmeal for him. Your elder-sister, Mairi, is going to bepicking you up soon.”

Duncan’s“elder-sibling”, Mairi, as the adult children from Hamish’s first marriage werereferred to, was the same age as Hamish’s second wife Kyra. Both women were in their fifties, and theywere good friends. Mairi had helped Kyrato learn how to deal with the rather boisterous personalities which inhabitedthe MacGregor family. Without Mairi’shelp, Kyra often said, she would never have survived marriage with oldHamish.

“Yes, Mum,” Duncanreplied obediently to his mother’s order. His mother, Kyra, had lived most of her married life in Scotland with Hamish, until recently, when thefamily made a decision to move to Kyra’s home country of Canada. She and Mairi had helped Duncan to arrange the placement at King’sUniversity, while Hamish had called up one of his younger Canadian 'war buddies' in orderto get a deal on an old family farm. Hamish always knew how to ferret out every deal in the land, it seemed.

Duncanate his oatmeal quickly and ran upstairs to retrieve his suit jacket and tie. He grabbed his briefcase and rusheddownstairs, for he could hear Mairi speaking with his mother. It would not do to make his older sisterwait. She was a strong, huskily-builtwoman with her father Hamish’s booming voice, and she did not suffer tardinessgladly.

“Well, then, my wee Professor laddie,” she greeted him. “Areyou ready to greet your pack of admiring newshounds?”

Duncanturned as white as a ghost. “What...what do you mean, ‘pack’ of newshounds?” Duncan murmuredfearfully, not wanting to hear the answer.

“I meant exactly what I said,” Mairi stated, withoutelaborating on her comment. “Now, let’s be off with us, shall we?”

Mairi bid Kyra and the others good-bye and strode out thedoor, while Duncanscurried hurriedly behind her.

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