Discovery

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The horses were still grazing near the tree where they’d left them, on the sparse grass that grew under the shade of the tall forest. Hannah and Sir James walked out of the small patch of trees in front of the hollow tree. Other than signs of a faint pathway, she found no evidence of the sorceress or her workplace, other than the pink dots bobbing around in an expanding circle. Following any of them backward would take Hannah directly to the sorceress.

There were other sorceresses in other towns, and whenever Hannah saw floating dots in the future, she would know one was near, and how to locate her. She knew how to mount and ride a horse, and string a bow, and how to ride to the west, with the sun warming her back in the morning. Thinking back to the last two days, she had probably accumulated more knowledge than in the last two years. Her imagination couldn’t comprehend what the next days would bring.

She glanced up and estimated the sun had reached its zenith. Mounting, she asked, “Which way?”

The Knight pointed as if his finger always knew the way to the King’s Palace no matter where he went, or where the sun stood. Hannah also noted that he pointed instead of speaking. The sorceress and her last words had upset him, perhaps because he had believed he had fooled her, but more likely because he didn’t know what gave him away or what danger might come from similar mistakes. Hannah decided to let him stew about it. He seemed to know everything and was always in charge. Even at her age, she understood humility.

Later, he said, “How did she know I’m not a mage? She believed me until the end.”

“The green fire,” Hannah answered shortly. “When she mixed the powder for the ‘no see us’ spell, the mixture turned to green flames that almost covered her hands. I reacted because I thought it would burn her, but you did not.”

He rode a few steps before speaking out loud to himself, “Then she also knows you are a mage.”

Hannah didn’t respond. What Evelyn saw didn’t fit with what she knew and would wonder about it. Hannah couldn’t be a mage because she was a girl. The logical answer for the sorceress to believe said that the child with the King’s Knight pretended to be a girl, but must be a boy in hiding. If the facts do not fit the circumstances, and the facts cannot be changed, then the circumstances must change.

She considered a convoluted line of thought as she rode. Her horsemanship had increased so much she could think of other things as she rode, instead of how to remain seated. Being a mage involved changing facts and allowing others to change the circumstances to fit. If she tossed an egg high into the air and it disappeared the facts said it would fall to the ground. If it did not, the conclusions would be that either she didn’t throw it into the air, or it was not an egg, or they hadn’t seen where it landed.

As the day wore on, they rode quickly, mostly downhill, until they found a dirt road; twin tracks for wagon wheels. Hannah wanted to ride on it and move faster to escape any bounty hunters. The Knight shook his head.

“It’s going the right way,” she argued. “The afternoon sun is on our face.”

“We’ll find a path going the same way and use it.”

His sharp retort left no room to argue. Hannah crossed the road and in time found a wide path that ran parallel to the road. The middle was barren of plant life and covered with the tracks of animals, including shod horses. She turned to look at Sir James to see if he noticed.

He smiled at her. “I know where we are, in general terms. I also know there are road agents and bands of thieves in these hills. The local sheriff does little to stop them unless they interfere with the delivery of ale to his favorite pub.”

She didn’t return the smile. Instead, she said, “I would expect one of the King’s Knights to speak to the local sheriff about that. I think that would be you I’m talking about.”

He chuckled. “Your expectations are correct, and it should have been resolved two years ago. On my next pass through this part of the kingdom I intend to speak to him, or his successor, if he refuses to perform his appointed job the way the King wishes it done. What I didn’t expect was to have an eleven-year-old tell me how to perform my duties.”

“I’m almost twelve.”

“So you keep reminding me as if it makes a difference. Now, speak less and watch our surroundings more. Ruffians, thieves, and highwaymen use this road. Many of them from the condition of the path, but it is still safer than the road. Out there, will be killers from other provinces with pockets filled with coins with your name on them. They won’t know this back way.”

“We have the two spells the sorceress gave us.”

“Both of which we are grateful for, however, both have limitations, if they even work. The confusion ‘grapes’ work only after an enemy is so close he will breathe the blue smoke. But what if there are five of them, and two of those five remain at a distance, so they do not breathe the blue smoke? The ‘no see us’ powder is much the same. We could use it now, but it wears off as the dust blows away or washes off in rain or water.”

“So you believe in the sorceress?”

“I believe most of them are fakes, but the pink dots you saw are something unknown to all. Yes, I think I believe in her, and her spells.”

Hannah rode on, watching ahead, behind, and to both sides. Her ears pricked with the slightest snap of a twig or call of a bird. What Sir James said made perfect sense. Worse, she had only seen the benefits of the spells, not the drawbacks. Sir James had understood instantly, and he was not a mage.

Finally, she said, “The spells might help us, but we don’t want to depend on them. They are almost worthless. That’s what you’re saying, right?”

“Sort of, my princess. To my thinking, both of them will be of great value if we are in danger of capture. For us, not being captured and not using the spells is our best option. Speaking of that, we do need a better story for any we encounter. The King will pay a handsome ransom for me so a gang of highwaymen might try to get rich by taking me, but the problem is that you are just a child, and the easiest solution for them is to get rid of you.”

“So you want me to make up a lie?”

Again he laughed. “No, I thought that we should make up a story together that people might believe, so they don’t think me a knight, or wealthy.”

Hannah said, “Tell what story you like, but your expensive clothes and courtly manners give you away. You are not a blacksmith, storekeeper, weaver, or a farmer. You carry weapons and are a soldier to any eyes.”

“Then the part of a soldier, I will play. You are in my protective custody. It is you we have to lie about. What is your tale?”

She hesitated before speaking. “Well, I’m the daughter of someone important, but if he’s too important, they will want money in exchange for me. I need to be just a little important.”

“But important enough to put a scare into them. We were talking about the local sheriff a while ago. What if you are the runaway daughter of the Sheriff of Wittington? He’s known for his anger and fierce punishments. They say that he once hung a thief to a tree… by his feet. He fed and watered him for eleven days before the poor man died, then he left the thief’s body hanging there for eleven more days as a warning to others.”

Hannah swallowed before saying, “Is that true?

“Not a word, but what petty criminal would tamper with his daughter?”

“And you will gladly spread the tale?”

“Some say I do talk too much.”

Hannah laughed at that. If anything, the man was one of the quietest she’d ever been around. She said, “Tell me more about my father. Not the Sheriff, the other.”

“He was a good man. A kind man. Unlike most, he held a fierce sense of right and wrong. The Old Mage would, and did, stand up to our King when he believed in some cause or process. He refused to do the King’s bidding when he believed it wrong, but when he though the King was right, your father would die before quitting.”

“He was older than my mother.”

“Yes, much older. When I was your age, the Old Mage already grew his famous white hair. My father said the same to me, so I think he was older than my father’s father. Quite old, but of course, he was a mage who knows how long they live?”

“My mother?”

“I never knew her other than to dance with her at a ball one time. Her feet were as light as air. She also possessed high morals that didn’t flinch even in a windstorm. For her, the world was black or white, as was everything in it. Right and wrong, and no in between. She would never relent on a belief, and that’s where the two of them parted twelve years ago. She held one belief about magic being wrong for the world. He the opposite. When neither could give in to the other, they parted forever.”

“That was the thing they fought over?”

“That is what he said. But the Old Mage also held privacy as an issue of honor. In our years together, he never pried into my life and left many parts of his unspoken. While he refused to discuss the issue that separated him and your mother, he often spoke of his love and devotion to her. And how much he missed her.”

Hannah found herself crying softly. She tried to wipe away the tears in such a way that he wouldn’t see. The sway of the horse, the warmth of the air, and the excitement of her second day outside the walls of the castle worked magic in her soul. Not only did she know more about her father than ever before, but the Knight also told her of her mother. She had never thought of her mother as a dancer in a ballroom, probably wearing a beautiful dress made by the Royal seamstresses.

She forced down the desire to return to the kitchen and gloat. The cooks would listen, of course. Then the tales would spread. Rumors would fly between the kitchens, and people would talk about the tall tales Hannah mouthed. Each telling would increase slightly until those hearing about her near the end would listen to fanciful stories holding little truth.

But overall, she found she missed knowing her father more than anything. She’d come so close. Sir James remained quiet and allowed her to sort out her thoughts. He too was a good man.

The man who stepped out into the path and reached for the bridle of her horse was not a good man. He was missing two front teeth, and his filthy clothing and body hadn’t touched water in months. One hand held the bridle, the other a short, ugly knife as he looked at her, licking his lips and allowed a smile to form.

Hannah said, sliding back in the saddle as far as possible, “What do you want?”

His eyes slid past her, to center on Sir James. He said, his eyes never leaving the knight, “Your money and the girl. I’ll be a rich and satisfied man tomorrow.”

Sir James said in a voice as cold as the highest mountain stream, “Release her bridle, step away and you will live to see a sunset today.”

“I have this,” he sliced the air with the little knife.

Hannah heard a soft whoosh of a sound pass beside her ear, followed by a solid thwack. She saw a knife handle protruding from the thief’s chest. The whoosh had been Sir James throwing it, and the thwack, the sound as it struck the man’s chest. The entire blade sank into the man, just a little to the left of center on his chest. The thief still stood, an expression of disbelief on his face as he looked down at the handle. Then he wilted like a flower left out of water on a hot day, only faster.

Hannah turned to look at the knight. He held another knife in his fingers, ready to throw it if needed. He said, “Hannah, move on ahead. I’ll catch up.”

She touched her heels to the horse and went ahead twenty paces before waiting, never once looking back to see what Sir James did. When she heard the other horse approaching, she clucked to her horse and continued on the path, never once looking behind.

The sun sat low in the cloudless sky. When they came to a stream, she finally turned to him and asked her question of which way to go and make their camp by raising her eyebrows. She didn’t yet trust her voice. He pointed upstream. A path along the bank wound downstream, but he wanted to go the other way. Her horse pushed through the tangle of brush growing at the edge of the stream and in a few minutes, emerged into a small clearing only a dozen steps from the water.

“Build a small fire. I’m going scouting.”

She watched him depart on foot, loosening leg muscles with stretching movements as he silently retraced their steps along the stream and disappeared into the green wall. She gathered dead wood and realized she had no flint or iron to spark a fire to life. She looked for dry leaves and twigs, then spotted an old bird’s nest on a branch low enough to reach. The bird had gathered the important supplies for tinder. She took the nest back to the small pile of wood and placed the nest under it, placing the wood like a tent, so it stood to a point. Fire burns upward, so you start it at the bottom. That was a lesson learned from the boy who was the fire starter she had replaced in the kitchen.

After a careful look around to be sure she was alone, her finger generated the flame. The nest caught and the fire spread. The crackle and the welcome scent of smoke relaxed her as she massaged her cold finger. For the first time since the thief held a knife to threaten her, she took a deep breath and felt at ease with the world.

She went to the horses and loosened the saddle cinch straps, but didn’t remove them or the bridles. Sir James had done the same the night before. She assumed he’d left them on in case they needed to flee and couldn’t take the time to saddle them properly. She took them to the water and let them drink their fill, then slipped on the hobbles and let them eat while she kept a close eye on them. Without horses, the remaining trip might take far longer.

When she had the bedrolls spread, she sat near the fire and nibbled a handful of nuts while worrying at what was taking the knight so long. Impatient, she wanted to follow after him but diverted that energy to gathering enough wood to last the night and half the next day. It seemed her whole life revolved around making fires.

Darkness fell, and she slipped off to sleep. She woke twice to feed the fire. Each time she determined to stay awake until Sir James returned, but each time she lost the battle. The third time she woke, she felt his hand placed on her shoulder. She leaped up and hugged him, feeling him stiffen, at the unfamiliar action, then relenting and placing his long arms around her.

“It’s all right,” he said.

“You were gone so long.”

“There were three of them. I had killed one before the others knew I was close, then I attacked the remaining pair together. They were not great fighters, but I wanted information so delayed killing them.”

“You killed three men?” Hannah drew back in horror.

“They were confederates of that one who stopped us on the path. He was too stupid to work alone, so there had to be more.”

“You could have died.”

“If I faced real danger I would have used my bow and put three arrows into them before they stood to defend themselves.”

“That does not sound fair.” Hannah held her hands on her hips, torn between the idea of him facing danger and doing it with honor. The conflict tore at her. Killing is killing, with or without honor, but there is a difference.

He sat and tossed wood on the fire. “I will raise you as my own, per my promise to your father. However, you and I will come to an understanding tonight. You are old enough to have some say in most things, but when it comes to warfare, I make the rules. There is no fight I plan to enter unless it is unfair—in my favor.”

She nodded meekly and sat beside him. “You said you wanted information?”

“How did word of you and the reward reach this far, this fast? You and I traveled all night and all day with hardly a break. How did those men know to watch the road for you? I expected to learn the answer, and I did. The Young Mage working for the Earl accepted gold from someone in the Royal family.”

“That does not explain how these men knew.”

“No, it does not. It seems there is at least one more mage who works against our King. They can communicate across great distances. It is a spell some of them practice, I guess, but no matter. The second mage, one living near here, spread the tale of us and offered the reward for our heads.”

Hannah watched the fire, waiting for him to continue, and when he did not, she grew sleepy again, but managed to ask, “Is our King. . . is he a good man?”

“For such a young, uneducated child, you ask the smartest questions I’ve ever heard. Raising you is going to be interesting.”

Hannah didn’t hear his determination because she was already sleeping again, but he was wrong about her being uneducated. Her mother had taught her daily, and Hannah was learning to read and write when she took ill and died. Her eye fluttered open three times and saw Sir James remained awake until the fire died down, seemingly thinking about the future and probably Hannah. She knew he missed the Old Mage already, and also the three knights and driver who died. He had said a prayer for them and promised their deaths were to allow the young lady with her head on his lap to survive. He promised to raise her as the Mage would want. That was a lot to take on.

He mumbled some of his thoughts out loud, not knowing Hannah lay there listening to his innermost thoughts. He said he would do his duty with the girl, but, it wouldn’t be an easy road to travel. She would test him to the limit, but he looked forward to the tests.