Discovery

CHAPTER FIVE

Hannah had wanted to laugh at the suggestion that she might become a female mage. But she hadn’t heard the inference of humor in her father’s voice and didn’t believe him in a mood to jest. She looked to the nearest guard, the one riding directly beside her, now, protecting her with his body and life. She mouthed to him silently, “Me?”

He nodded solemnly, then turned back to watch for danger.

Hannah rode quietly, reviewing all the Old Mage said since they left the palace, combining facts and words in different ways while trying to understand the immensity of what had happened so far. Instinctively, she knew that much had not yet been said between them. The problem was that her mother had promised her knowledge—then died. That wouldn’t happen again. She wanted to know it all. Now.

“Do you feel like talking?” She asked softly.

“No.”

“Well, I understand that, but there are things I need to know.” Hannah felt her cheeks grow pink. What right do I have to speak to the Old Mage like that? Just because I believe, he is my father?

“What is it you want?” His voice sounded weary, tired and sad. His eyes looked ready to weep.

She refused to relent. She’d lost one opportunity to learn the information she wanted, and after the attack, she understood that if another came and the Old Mage died, so would her only source of information. “I think I understand some of the reasons for the attack, but what I don’t know is who was behind it. Somebody paid those men. I recognized at least two of them from the tavern when I sat at the window outside and listened to the music, and they work for hard coin. They have no personal aims in life but to earn enough coin to drink ale and whore until they pass out.”

The Mage cast her another surprised look but held his tongue.

She continued chatting as if discussing the bright yellow flowers growing in the next field they passed. “That means somebody put enough coins in their purses to kill us.”

“Meaning?” he asked.

“Well, it was not a worker at the inn or poor person who did that. Whoever paid them, had enough coins to pass around to ten or eleven men, enough money for them to risk their lives over. How many people in the palace have that amount?” Hannah set her jaw with conviction and crossed her arms over her chest.

The Mage pulled the carriage to a stop and turned to the two guards. “One of you go back there and search every one of the men. Bring me every coin you find.”

“And find a sharp knife and scabbard that will fit my hand, if you will,” Hannah added, as if she had any right to give orders.

“I’ll handle that,” the nearer of the two guards said, unbuckling a wide leather belt with a knife and scabbard attached. The guard was old enough to have streaks of white in his beard, but his mannerisms were those of someone younger. He held it out to her. “My father gave me this when I was about your age.” He turned to the younger guard, “Seth, see if you can find anything back there that will do for me until we get to a weapons-master. Now go search them.”

The younger guard nodded and spun his horse and trotted off. Hannah looked at the belt. She saw the different color of the leather where the buckle rubbed and the elongated hole and knew it would be so long she would tie the end in a knot to make it fit. But the row of holes ran half way around the belt. She put it around her waist and found the last hole fit her perfectly.

The blade was shorter than she expected when she pulled it but made of fine steel and sharper any she’d ever touched, including all the knives in the kitchen. At the end of the handle, a protective bar guarded her hand against slipping to the blade.

She looked at him. “Are you sure? This is too nice.”

“I should have replaced it with one that better fits my big hand years ago, but I wanted to remember my father with it. Now I’ll know it’s in good hands.”

The Mage gave the guard a wink she was not supposed to see. He asked, “Sir James, you don’t have to do that. Suppose she just borrows it until we reach the King’s castle?”

“I insist,” The guard said. He used the edge of his sword to slice off the extra length of the belt and adjusted it to fit better, making his gift permanent.

“Is it wrong for me to accept this?” Hannah asked.

“Wrong?” the Mage questioned in surprise, then quickly continued, “It is a great honor. Sir James is probably the most famous knight in the land. The King knighted him in front of half the population after the battle of Sizemore, which most say he almost won single-handedly. He wore that blade in the battle.”

Hannah looked at it with reverence, then started to unbuckle the belt to hand it back. The Mage said softly, “Do not insult him by refusing to accept his gift.”

“He is a Knight?” Hannah asked.

“Oh, more than that. Sir James is often appointed as the King’s Hand, which means what he does is considered the same as if the King did it with his hand.”

“If he’s so important, why is he guarding you?”

The Mage and Knight shared a half smile. Sir James answered first, “Because we have been friends for many years. Besides, this gets me out of the castle and lets me stretch my legs. We had no idea they would attack, or that there was any danger.”

Hannah asked, “Then why not go back to the palace where all the Earl’s guards are so you’ll be safe?”

The Mage sighed. “Because I suspect you are the reason for the attack and some of those guards back there are being paid by two purses. A daughter of mine changes things because I am also a prince of the royal line who could one day wear the King’s crown. I’d refuse it, but I can’t deny I’m born royalty. And your mother was never a servant of the Earl, was she?”

“I’ve thought of it, but no. She was a lady.”

“Your mother helped the queen as a lady in waiting. She was born to an out of favor family that had been stripped of its lands and wealth, but not titles.”

“But I was a slave.”

“You were an orphan and considered a bastard child.”

“But my mother was more?”

“Yes, a maiden, of royal blood. Her family lost their lands, position, and power a hundred years ago in a political dispute, but that is no matter. The point is, she was of royal blood. As my daughter, you will be a princess when the King recognizes you. However, I have no idea how far from the throne you will be. James?”

The knight calculated, using his fingers, first holding up one or two and then letting them rest as he counted. “Five, maybe six.”

“What does that mean?” Hannah asked.

The Mage said, “It means that others have also counted and come to the same answer. I am number four in the line, which means that if the King and two others who are both elderly, in front of me die, only the King’s son is between me and wearing the crown. I would refuse, but that’s of little consolation to my enemies and those immediately behind me on the Royal List. You will be either one, or two, positions behind me, depending on future male births, of course.”

“I don’t understand any of that, but why would they try and kill me?” Hannah asked.

Sir James said, “There is already a number five and six in the royal line. If the King recognizes you, and I’m sure he will, they move down a spot. If you have children, three boys, for instance, they may move down three more places, and if your boys have children, well, you see where this is going.”

“It sounds complicated.”

The Mage said, “Only those back at the Earl’s Palace know of you as my daughter. The knowledge of your existence has upset someone powerful and rich. Rich enough to buy all those men back there on the road.”

“I just don’t see why moving down one place is so important,” she said. “I don’t see why they care so much.”

“Neither do I.” The Mage sat on the seat lost in thought, his eyes unfocused and glassy as he tried to figure out who would benefit most from his and Hannah’s deaths. “I’ve never understood why some seek power above all.”

The horses fidgeted as they stood, and Hannah started to climb down and sooth them like Cleanup often did, but Sir James shook his head. “You need to stay in the carriage in case there are others out here looking for us. We may have to escape.”

She looked around again, the fear she’d felt earlier returning. The feeling of helplessness during the attack angered her. If arrows killed the two remaining guards, she and the Old Mage couldn’t avoid capture and whatever came after. She didn’t know how to drive the carriage. “Okay, Sir James, but make me one promise?”

“What is it?”

“When we get to where we’re going, I want you to train me to fight. And shoot arrows. I never want to feel helpless like this again.”

He glanced at the Mage as if asking silent permission, and then back at her. The guard nodded his chin once to her, then went back to watching the forest. A flicker of movement drew the attention of both of them. The younger knight returned, his horse trotting as it panted and wheezed. Both guards ignored the horse, as he rode directly to the white carriage and poured gold and silver coins onto the floorboard from a leather purse. He pulled the second pouch and poured out more. Then a third.

Coins now littered the floor of the carriage, most lying on top of others. Copper, brass, silver, and gold. Coins of all sizes, from tiny copper shims, to solid gold rounds. The guard looked at the Mage. “The price of your life, sir.”

“Mine or hers?” the Mage whispered to himself, but all three of them heard. “There are forces at work I do not understand, but I will demand a pledge from each of you. I order you to protect my daughter with as much fervor and honor as you protect me.”

“Sir?” the younger one asked his question with the single word.

“In all my years as a Mage nothing like this has ever occurred. I find I have a daughter and the following day an attack on my life is made and paid for with more coins than I think I’ve ever seen together at one time. I think it is not me they are after, but Hannah. But who desires power so much they would commit murder and revolt?”

“Why?” the same guard asked. “Why risk it?”

“Yes, that is also a question, but one we will not answer sitting here. My suspicion is that a plot is afoot to overthrow the King, and the knowledge of Hannah may somehow disrupt it. Most know I will abdicate the throne if circumstances offer it to me. Only Jeffery, the King’s son is ahead of me, other than Henry and Willard, both too old and in ill health. That means someone after me in the line of succession has tipped his or her hand.”

The younger guard said, “Politics is above me, sir. What are your orders?”

The Mage said, “We’ll go on, but I demand you both keep your pledge to protect my daughter, no matter what happens. I fear that her life is in as much danger and mine. Agreed?”

Both men warily nodded, their eyes not on the gold lying in the bottom of the carriage, nor on the Mage, but on Hannah. The rules had changed for them, and they needed time to adapt, but time had become critical. The Mage climbed back onto the seat of the carriage and whipped the horses into a trot as Hannah climbed beside him.

With the increased speed the carriage moved ahead, it bounced, jostled, swayed, and rattled. Hannah grabbed for a convenient handle with one fist and the back of the seat with the other. She found that half-standing allowed her more freedom to absorb the punishment of the bouncing seat. Sir James rode his horse hard to stay well ahead of them, and the younger guard brought up the rear, their eyes constantly searching for danger.

They didn’t talk. The Mage was too busy controlling the horses, but as the morning wore on the horses lathered and slowed. Their panting told of their pain, and they couldn’t continue much longer without rest.

The Old Mage slowed the horses before reaching a shallow river. He stood up and examined upriver, then down. He turned the horses to the downstream side and navigated the carriage across a field of grass, then into a stand of willows.

He called to the guard at the rear, “Wipe the tracks as best you can.”

While that knight rode back to the road, Sir James continued into the thick brush and made sure they were alone. The Mage didn’t have to tell him what to do. He understood and looked prepared to fight a legion if required. The guard behind them had dismounted and used a leafy branch to obscure the turn the wagon had made. He managed to scuff the tracks up where their departure was not quite as noticeable. The guard headed back to join them.

The Mage raised his hands and wriggled his fingers as he mumbled and incantation. A stiff breeze sprang into existence and blew dust across the road before diminishing to nothing after the tracks were fully hidden.

Hannah watched everything with eyes wide. She had never slept outside the walls of the palace, and all was new to her, not just the magic. The river, the smells, and lack of protective walls surrounding her kept her attention wandering. This was all she’d hoped for in her life and more. There were no ovens waiting for her to light in the morning, and no Overseer walked about giving directions and watching her to make sure she performed well. The gossips would have plenty to talk about in the morning—but without her ears to hear, and all would be about her. She hoped they’d be kind for a change.

The absence of other people nearby gave her odd feelings of doubt about her circumstances. There was the strange conversation about her being in the royal line, but she understood little of it or the implications. Her mother had been a minor noblewoman. She knew that. Then it struck her. My old life is gone forever.

Both of the guards rode up to the carriage at the same time. Sir James said, “We’re ready.”

The Mage stood on the carriage and extended his arms out, holding his fingers chest high and then spreading them out like twin fans. He muttered with his eyes closed, and then spun a full circle, waving the hands above his head in small circles. Hannah watched closely and noticed the river and trees begin to shimmer and then become a soft blur, the indistinct colors merging with one another until all around them lost detail and merged with the background.

When the Mage opened his eyes, she was ready with the questions, but instinctively understood as the first words fell from her mouth. “From the road, this place is all fuzzy and nobody will know we’re here, even if they look this way.”

“Exactly right,” he replied, starting to climb down from the carriage.

She was too quick for him. “But, can they hear us? I mean, if we talk too loud? Will the spell stop sounds? What about smells?”

“I think we’re too far from the road for that to matter.”

“But if a bear or wolf comes after us tonight, will it see the same things as men see? Will we be hidden from them? Especially at night? And what about smells? Can a bear sniff us, or our food?” Hannah paused in her questions and waited for him to reach the ground.

He said, “The shield I built around us is for men’s eyes. It will hide us for the night.”

“But the bears and wolves can still find us?”

Both guards were nearby and tended their horses with their backs turned. Hannah noticed their amused expressions when she saw their faces but refused to stop the questions.

The Old Mage chuckled and raised his arms above his head and whispered three words she couldn’t hear. Then he said, “There, that should do it. I just made our camp smell like a couple of skunks live here. Does that satisfy you?”

“Hey,” Sir James said, striding closer, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. “You never did that spell before when we slept in the wild.”

“She asked for protections against animals,” The Mage explained with a shrug as if that ended the matter.

The older guard placed both of his hands on his hips as if angry, but the corners of his mouth twitched in humor. “Well, from now on I’d like you to cast that spell at night, too. I’d hate to be eaten by a bear, you know.”

The Mage caught on. “You’re a famous warrior and a favorite knight of the King. Would you also want me to burn a small candle for you tonight, so you’re not scared of the dark?”

“Can you do that?” the guard asked. “If so, I’ll take one, and from now on can we have the bear and wolf spell when we sleep outside?”

The shoulders of the Old Mage sagged as if sensing defeat in losing an argument. “All right, James, I’ll try to remember to cast children’s spells for you in the future. But I refuse to promise not to tell the other knights about it.”

“Oh, don’t do that,” the guard pleaded, laughing, and then he turned to the other guard and said in a voice loud enough for all to hear, “If they find out about it, they’ll want it done for them too.”

The guards laughed as the Mage started removing the two horses from the harness. After all that had happened during the day, the laughter seemed out of place, but needed. The Mage ignored the guards until they finished grooming their horses and relieved him of the last of the job of watering the carriage horses. The other horses had already found green grass and tasty leaves to chew while Hannah scurried around and gathered firewood. It was something she could do and her contribution to the group. The work also kept her mind off the driver and two guards who had died, as well as the ten men who attacked them. She suspected that the others were working harder than usual for the same reason.

A small storage area on the rear of the wagon held the three large leather trunks belonging to the Mage as well as blankets and all the rest needed to spend a comfortable night outside. Hannah looked for a soft place to spread the blanket Sir James handed her.

He said, pointing to the carriage. “You and the Mage sleep underneath, protected from the rain. We’ll stand guard—looking for bears and wolves.”

Ignoring the smirk and humor in his voice, she carried four blankets and unrolled two on the ground and two for covering them. Dusk was upon them, and the space underneath the carriage invited her to climb under there and sleep. On all other days, she would have been asleep long before this because she would wake and build the kitchen fires well before dawn. But excitement and fear still flowed through her. She had not only left the palace grounds for the first time; she had watched men die, friends and foes. She had also met and talked with her father and found him warm and caring, and the future glowed brighter than ever.

More than just meeting him, he had accepted her and from his actions intended to treat her as a daughter, part of his royal family. For the first time since her mother died, someone cared for her as a person. Her life had changed for good this day, and she didn’t wish it to end, but couldn’t keep her eyes open. She managed to move to sit beside the fire and avoided the wood smoke swirling as it rose to the stars.

While the campfire burned cheerfully, they ate from the basket of exotic foods the Earl had sent with them. The Mage and Hannah sat alone. The guards were off together in the darkness doing soldierly things, she guessed. Stealing a peek at her father, she said, “You do look like me, you know.”

“Then I am a very pretty old man.”

She grinned. “I hardly remember my mother, not what she looked like, or much else. Well, I do remember her voice.”

“I remember her well, although it has been a dozen years since we’ve talked. Maybe more.” He sat on a log and faced her. “You must have a hundred more questions for me. Ask them.”

“Did you like her?”

“Very much,” his voice sounded suddenly sad.

“Will you tell me about my mother? What she looked like?”

He looked into the fire and thought for a few seconds, then said, “I don’t know what she looked like when you knew her, but before you were born, I remember her features well. After we arrive at the castle and settle into my quarters, I can enchant myself, and some paints, and create a painting that will do her justice. I have done it once before.”

“You can do that?” Hannah asked, excited.

“Let me consider,” he playfully pretended to be lost in deep thought. “The colorful paints will come from plants, flowers and such. The brush made of wood and hair, and canvas made of hemp or some such cordage. All natural and living materials at some point, so yes, I believe I can. I’m not much of a painter, but magic is about doing things you normally cannot.”

Hannah looked at him before speaking. “You think you can. But you’ve never done it?”

“I didn’t say that. Knowing how to perform a feat of magic is like knowing anything else. You have the rules and how they limit you. Do you believe that a woman could teach you to knit a sweater if you wished to learn?”

“Of course. I just need a teacher.”

“I only have to find a teacher, and I’ll paint your mother in detail and as I remember her.”

Hannah said, “Why not just let the teacher paint her?”

“He would not be able to put in the feelings and expression into the painting that I remember; not like me. It would just be a painting of a beautiful woman, but there would be no love shining out of her eyes. She wouldn’t direct her smile at you.”

“You can do all that?”

“We’ll see. But, yes.”

“How will you learn?”

“Books. Scrolls. Somewhere in one of my texts is the work of another mage who performed a similar spell, maybe he even painted the woman he loved. I’ll research until I find the scroll again, or at worst, I’ll teach myself.”

“Teach yourself magic?” Hannah asked, her eyes wide.

The Mage paused as if trying to think of the proper response. Then he spoke suddenly, as his mind seized the words. “Teach myself? Is that concept so odd to you, Hannah? Let me ask you a question for a change. Who taught you to make fire with your finger?”

“Nobody. It just happened.”

“Well, that’s a better answer than most could give. The point is, when something interesting just happens to a mage, the mage writes it down so other mages can learn from that experience. We’re great ones for putting things down on parchment in great detail. One mistake can completely change a spell. For instance, when I return to my apartment in the King’s Palace one of my first, and most important tasks is to record all that has happened on this trip, especially any new insights into magic. You will be a major part of that.”

“Because of those men who attacked us?”

“Not at all. A minor stroke of the quill will account for that. It is you that will fill page after page of my parchment. Imagine. An unknown daughter of a Master-mage, who can already create the most basic, but most important spell. Only a mage deals with the four basic earthly elements, and most deal with one better than the rest. Fire is most difficult and called the transformer. Do you understand what that means?”

“No.” Her answer sounded simple, bored, and held more than a touch of anger for an unknown reason. She wanted to learn, but he talked about things she didn’t understand.

“Fire transforms wood into ashes and heat. Fire transforms water into steam. Transforming is the basic process for all a mage does. We do not create or destroy, we change, or transform.”

“Like the handles of those weapons this morning. You didn’t destroy them. You changed them and made them hot, so they burned the hands of the men.”

“Exactly, okay, we’ll speak more of that later. But take two things away from this conversation, daughter. At least half the mages of the world cannot work with fire, no matter their age or skill. You are already more skilled than them. The second item is that no women can make fire. Not one. And to my extensive knowledge, there never has been a woman mage in all of history.”

He called me daughter. “Want me to lift my dress and show you I’m a girl?”

“No, I believe you are what you are. But for my edification, I’d like to verify what I saw at the banquet. Will you please make a small flame?”

Hannah found herself on her feet, growing angrier and confused, but he’d called her daughter. That single word brought her close to tears. He had admitted she was his daughter, and that made him her father. She raised her hand, and after making sure neither of the guards looked their way, she ignited a tiny flame on her index finger.