Discovery

CHAPTER EIGHT

Hannah walked directly behind Sir James, even when the two dogs emerged from the barn and charged them. A yellow one, and an older black dog barking enough for six. The dogs raced crossed the field and leaped a fence to reach them, and Hannah reached for her knife but hesitated when Sir James didn’t try to defend himself.

Instead, he dropped to one knee and spread his arms wide in welcome. The yellow reached him first, and he wrapped it in his arms and fell backward onto the grass. Hannah almost leaped to his defense but saw the dog was trying to lick him to death. The black arrived, and the three of them wrestled and played until a gruff voice behind her spoke.

“Mind if I get my watchdogs back?”

A grizzled farmer and what had to be his son stood just beyond the fence. Working in the sun had darkened the older man’s face until it took on the color of new shoes. The son stood taller, thinner, and wore the same features.

Sir James climbed to his feet. “Good morning, to you.”

The farmer spat in the grass. “Hope so, but doubt it.”

“Why is that, if I may ask,” Sir James said, obviously confused at the statement.

“I usually judge a man by how my dogs do with him. If they don’t like him, I don’t either. But in this case, that don’t apply.”

Sir James drew himself up and said, “Sir, we have no money, but we require enough food for a few days and two horses. I’m not asking. I promise to return the horses and more than enough silver to repay you for your inconvenience. I don’t expect you to trust me, but you have no choice. We will take what we need and explain later.”

“There’s no need of threatening me, Sir James. Your word is good.”

Hannah exchanged a look to the son, who seemed as confused as her. Nobody had used names, yet. But there was more happening than she understood.

The farmer spat again, “I might have a shirt that will fit her, then you can take yours back, but what’s this going to cost me? More than horses, I suspect.”

Sir James said, “There are men after us. Men hired to kill this girl. I think we lost them last night, but they’ll pick up our trail this morning.”

“And come directly here.” The farmer said, his tone flat.

Sir James said, “No matter what you and I do, or how much we talk about it, they will come. If we have the horses or not, they will come. They’ll ask you about us, and you may not survive those questions. I advise you to take your whole family and leave your farm for at least a few days.”

“When we return, what will be left?”

“The ground is good from all appearances, some of your buildings are old and can stand replacement. But I wouldn’t expect to return to find much if you want the truth. However, I will repay you for all you lose and more, but I can only do that if you leave and allow them to burn your buildings and kill your stock. Of course, they may decide to chase after us and do nothing, but I wouldn’t count on it.”

“How close are they?”

“We left the Earl’s Palace around mid-day and stopped before dark at the river. They came after that, and only the two of us escaped.”

The farmer backed a step, as if not believing him. “You came all that way? In the dark? In a single night?”

“We followed the river most of the way.”

“We don't have anything that we can’t replace with a few coins and some hard work, I guess. But right now we have food cooking, and a shirt to swap. We haven’t seen my sister over in Springtown for nearly a year, and my wife’s been talking that up for a while. Today would be a good day to head her way.”

Hannah was amazed at the farmer. She couldn’t hold herself back from asking, “Sir, why are you so trusting of us? Anyone could say they will repay you.”

He almost smiled, “Not everyone stood behind Sir James while he led the charge at Bloom Hill. Try as I might to keep up, he ran faster than me, or any of us. By the time we reached those Blues, he had half of them slain and the other half on the run.”

“That’s not true, and you know it,” Sir James said with an embarrassed chuckle. “I thought you looked familiar.”

“Name’s Cooper. Corporal Cooper way back then. We were both a lot younger.”

As they neared the house, Hannah smelled the ham frying. The front door opened, and a withered woman with a bent back emerged, throwing an arm around Hannah and escorting her inside where two more sons were finishing their meals.

Then the woman saw Sir James. Her eyes went wide, and she curtsied as best as her back allowed. He said, “You also recognize me?”

“I am called Tara. I traveled with my husband when he served you, like so many other wives and girlfriends. I stood on Bloom Hill and watched you defend your men, my man included. Your sword flashed and swung until you saved them all.”

“Well, I hate to admit that this time I’ve brought you problems. Your family needs to leave today to see your husband’s sister.” Sir James looked sorry, sad, and tired.

She closed her eyes and squeezed them shut, then opened them and set her face to one a wife uses when danger is near her children. “None of your doing, I’m sure. But first, can you take the time to eat?”

“Is it ready?”

“I wouldn’t delay just to cook a meal for you with danger approaching, not even as good a man as you are. The food is ready, and we have roads to travel before the sun is high,” she took the time to give a weak smile at Hannah. “I have something that will fit you a mite better than that shirt.”

The meal was devoured instead of eaten. While Hannah and Sir James were busy with it, one of the boys rounded up two horses and the makeshift saddles. The wife called Tara gathered hard bread, carrots, dried meat, and a dress for Hannah. She filled a cloth sack with the food while Hannah slipped into the shirt. Sir James accepted two rolled blankets.

Back outside of the farmhouse, Hannah noticed the boys were hitching the third horse to a wagon, and already valuables were being loaded into the back by four sons racing from place to place so fast they were acting like sweets were offered for the fastest. While they knew the situation held danger, it had turned into a contest for the boys, a break in their everyday routine. She saw one carrying the iron plow cradled in his arms as if it was a child, as well as another carrying knives used for butchering the animals. Another carried dried meat and sacks of rye and oat flour, as well as smaller sacks of seed. The wagon stood half-filled already. They’d be on the road to the sister’s farm long before the sun reached mid-morning, as a testament to their fear and good sense.

Sir James climbed onto the larger horse, a bay with large hooves and a gentle temperament, with the ease of a rider who mounted a steed regularly, while Hannah struggled to climb up on an old mare with large white blotches on her brown coat. Once up, her animal didn’t move. Hannah had watched Cleanup work with, and behind, the horses but neither of them had never sat on one of them. She felt elated to have reached the saddle without mishap.

“Take hold of the reins like this,” Sir James holding his up for her to see. He pointed at one of the boys, “You there, can you adjust her stirrups?”

The boy was near her age, ten at the most, and he leaped to obey. Once they were hiked all the way up, Hannah found she could stand in them, her bottom clear of the saddle and looked to Sir James for approval.

“You’ll be glad of that once we ride.” He turned and tied the rolled blankets to the rear of the saddle and accepted the bag of food closed with a drawstring that he tied on the front of the saddle. He acted like he wanted to say more but couldn’t find the words.

The farmer and his wife came to the front door and waved. The children carried more household goods to the wagon, and Hannah knew they’d be leaving soon. She wished them well. Hannah thought of all the glittering coins they had left lying on the floor of the carriage—and of all the good it would do if she had but a few of them here to give these people who helped her so readily. But they were not helping her. They were helping Sir James.

He leaned a little forward, catching her attention, and looked at his heels as he touched the horse with them. The horse moved ahead. Hannah duplicated his actions, and as the horse started, she almost fell over the rump. Only a last second grab of the front of the saddle saved her, but it didn’t save her from the laughter of the boys behind. In her experience, boys tended to laugh any time people made simple mistakes. She sat tall, like Sir James, and refused to turn her head.

The saddle bounced her in a regular rhythm that began to hurt long before they were out of sight of the farm. She twisted and leaned to one side, but the saddle repeatedly slapped her inner legs and butt. How can Sir James stand it?

Instead of fighting it, or asking for his help, she looked at him and how he sat. His head and shoulders remained almost still. As the horse’s back went down, he used his legs to lift himself the same amount. When the horse came back up the saddle touched Sir James as softly as a leaf falling before winter. She tried copying him and didn’t stand high enough. The saddle caught her by surprise and almost tossed her into the air. She grabbed for a handhold again, and when the saddle came up the next time, she stood tall enough to avoid it striking her.

But the half-crouch that saved her from the saddle quickly tired her legs. Soon, her thighs and calves were cramping.

Sir James said, “You almost have it. Now, rock front and back a little until you match the gait.”

As the saddle came up again, she met it with her bottom and leaned ahead just enough to let it softly lift her a few inches. Her bottom didn’t leave the saddle. The movement provided enough movement to toss her up just enough so she could set in the saddle as it lowered. A little work and a few adjustments and the ride almost became comfortable.

Then, Sir James pointed to a place where the ground changed from soft dirt to solid rock. He pulled his horse to stop and handed the reins to Hannah as he dismounted. “See those trees over there? I think I see a path right below that tall pine. Walk the horses over there slowly while I take care of our tracks. Stay on the hard ground.”

Watching behind, she saw him use his hands to smudge the horse’s tracks away. When satisfied, he jogged to join her at the edge of a forest filled with pine, cedar, and fir, all evergreen trees and little underbrush. She said, “Wiping away the tracks like that won’t fool anyone.”

“Depends,” he smiled, motioning for her to take the lead down the path. “It depends on if they know we’re on horses, and it depends on if they know which way we went, or where we are.” He sounded almost like the teachers she’d listened to when she huddled below the school window. He went on, “It also depends on who else travels that road before they come after us. It’ll only take one horse or maybe a hay wagon to cover our tracks so even the best tracker can’t follow what he can’t see.”

“Will you make sure those nice farmer people get paid for these two horses?” She asked.

He snorted as if he was part horse. “I’ll see that they get ten times what these horses are worth and more. By the time they return home, the men after us will burn the house, barn, and all else. I owe them for all those things, too, as well as the contents.”

“Are you that rich?”

“Me? I’m just a knight, so I serve at the pleasure of my King. You, on the other hand, have the wealth to buy a hundred farms like theirs. A thousand.”

Hannah turned in the saddle. “I light fires for the kitchen. I’ve never even held a coin.”

“Your father was a most important man. All he owned is now yours, including my services. However, I am a Knight of the realm and a friend to the Old Mage, and as such I will act in his stead until you are properly raised, educated, and of age to control your wealth. It was my pledge to your dying father.”

Hannah recalled the scene of her father’s death and reviewed it from the time she first heard the arrow passing her, to the impact, and the aftermath. At no time did she see the Mage talking to Sir James. She didn’t wish to call him a liar, but he was not telling the truth. She turned to the front to watch for low hanging branches while she thought about why he might lie.

Did he want her belongings? That didn’t make sense. If he did, he could have killed her and told the tale that the Mage had given his belonging to Sir James. From the little she knew of how things like that worked, he could have easily claimed it all.

But the loss of trust, even in small things, strained friendships, and this was far more than that. The best way to confront a lie was to go at it from the front. Don’t let it fester like a sore. She’d learned that working in the kitchens. Face a problem and whatever happens, happens. She shifted in her saddle again, wishing to look at his face when she spoke so she could judge any reaction.

“You said he told you all those things my father said, but I was there with him in my arms. He said nothing.”

The knight nodded, rode a few steps without talking, and said, “I lost three guards yesterday and a friend I’ve known almost my whole life. Without your father, I’d still be working in a stable, at best. But after that arrow struck him, he still breathed but could not speak, and he knew he would die soon. His eyes found mine, and with his gaze, he placed all those thoughts into my head as if he spoke each word and we had a long conversation.”

Hannah recalled the Mage looking at her, and then at Sir James, as she held him. Had she seen a spark in his eyes or had she imagined it? No, she saw it but didn’t know what it meant. “Before he died, I saw a small flash in his eyes, like a spark from my flint, while he was looking at you. I think that’s when he told you those all things.”

“I feared you would think me daft or up to no good if I mentioned it.”

“He talked about you, you know. He said nice things, and if there is anyone I trust, it is you.”

“I will make my pledge to raise you to the King when we reach the castle. My days of knighthood are over, and I will be a father to you, if not the father you deserve. Now, if you don’t turn around a branch is going to knock you off your horse sooner or later.”

“Was he a good man? My father?”

“If he had known of you, he’d have burned down the kingdom to reach you. When you did that little trick at the celebration with your finger, I thought he’d have an attack and die right there. His body stiffened, and I thought he’d been attacked, but he instantly saw the dangers to you, and he put up a mental shield that taxed his health. Even those who looked directly at you didn’t see your little stunt, or if they did, he made them forget it.”

“You said I would be properly raised and educated.”

“Yes, well, we’ll do what we can, but you are going to be a thousand problems and more for me, I fear. Times will be interesting.”

“I won’t cause problems for you,” she said.

“It’s not you, but who you are. You look a ragamuffin in that borrowed shirt, yet you’re the daughter of royalty and a woman mage on top of that, as impossible as that sounds. You will have to learn to act the part of a wealthy Royal in direct line for the throne. You’ll step ahead of others, and most won’t like that. They will demand proof, but the records are there, and my word will enforce them. However, I foresee a few problems in establishing your ascendancy.”

“I hope not. Not that I want it, but I want to do what’s right by my father and mother.”

The Knight rode in silence before speaking softer, as if the forest had ears. “You have the initial powers of an emerging mage, and may become one of the most powerful according to your father. But you are also a girl, and everyone knows girls or women cannot be mages. Those are but two of the thousand problems you’re going to cause me.”

“You sound like you’re laughing back there.”

“As one who enjoys a good joke or prank, believe me, when I tell you that I foresee a life of rich humor ahead of us. We, you and I, can either laugh or cry, it matters not. But our lives have changed this day.”

She rode on in quiet. Finally, she said, “I only knew my father for less than a day.”

“But I knew him a lifetime and will share those things with you. The King will also have his tales to share.”

“The King will not believe a girl from the kitchens is royalty. I will be content to live with you like I’m your daughter.”

His voice took on a deeper, more serious tone. “That is not possible. There will be those who will decry you, and even some who will denounce you. A few will not believe, but those who will hold the most against you are those who will find themselves one life further from the throne. I’m only surprised you’ve lived this long because you look so much like him, and the tales fly. Only the fact that this tale is so strange has prevented it from reaching those who care.”

Hannah sat taller, holding her back straight as she’d seen fine ladies do. “Is the throne so important? I see Royalty in their beautiful dresses and the servants rushing to perform their smallest wish. The most important thing they do on most days is choosing a dress to wear. They eat fine food, live in castles, and they never work. I think I like cooks, stablemen, seamstresses, and wood choppers more than them.”

“And I will do my best to make sure you keep that opinion.”

A slow stream trickled alongside the path, and at a wide place, grass for the horses grew green and lush. A blue jay sat on a nearby branch and watched, looking for something to steal, probably. The clearing was anything but empty. Flowers bloomed, new pines and firs sprouted, and old logs rotted. She realized at one time the old logs had stood tall and proud in this spot. Disease, fire, or possibly wood choppers had cleared it like a wound, but now it healed itself.

Sir James climbed down. “Sore bottom?”

“A little,” she lied, knowing it was more than a little sore.

Sir James took the horses to the stream to drink, then knelt down and scooped water with his hand for himself. She said, “I don’t want to drink that.”

“May I ask why?”

“It has green stuff growing in it.”

“That it has. Now, we begin to teach you another lesson. When, and if, you locate water, always look for green. Green is life. If there is no green, the water is bad and will probably kill you if you drink it. At the very least it will make you ill. If it cannot support green life, it cannot support you.”

She tightened her jaw, but went to the edge of the water and gingerly slurped a mouthful, finding it cold, and perhaps the best tasting water she’d ever had. She nodded to Sir James and drank her fill before standing. As she stood, her eyes took in the meadow, the forest beyond, and the best escape routes for any direction where enemies might emerge. She allowed the horse to drink its fill but remained on the left side of the animal where she could mount in an instant. “What else have you to teach me?”

“Can you read?”

“No. And I don’t want to. My mother tried.”

“Well, that’s a poor attitude. Why in heaven’s seven layers would you not wish to read?”

“I have watched the students at the school. They sit at tables with their eyes downcast all day, but when the teacher allows them to leave they run and play and laugh. No, I do not want to sit and look at a desk all day.”

“Reading is more than that. But no matter, it’s a skill you need to learn, and you will. Others your age are well ahead of you, and you must catch up. Not only is it something you should do, but it is also something you must do. A mage has to read what other mages before them have written. We will begin now.”

“Why? Give me one good reason.”

“Your father was a mage, and a great one. He collected the works of other great mages, and he wrote down his favorite spells. He could not only make fire, but water, and others. The things he put down on parchment means nothing to me, or others like me. But to another mage, they are where your answers lie. Within those scrolls are what you need to protect yourself.”

“Can’t I just ask another mage to help me?”

“Not unless you wish to die at eleven years old.”