Discovery

CHAPTER NINE

“Another mage will kill me?” Hannah asked, horrified at the thought.

“Almost certainly. Three reasons. First, the apprentice mage will want the library your father owns for himself. That alone is worth a kingdom. Second, he wants the power Royals will grant him for your death. I’m speaking of those who sent those assassins after you. And lastly, he will kill you because you are a woman and a mage, something new in the world, and therefore suspect and dangerous.”

Hannah moved about the clearing in silence as she considered his words, always keeping track of the horse in case she needed to leap on its back and flee. Finally, she said, “I don’t even know for sure what a mage is.”

“You have seen magicians and tricksters performing in the public squares?”

“A few. Not many come to the Earl’s Palace these days. He frowns on any dancing, parties, or the like. Some say it’s because he has grown old.”

Sir James persisted, “But you have seen them, magicians, I mean. Heard of them, at least.”

“Yes, I saw one who made things appear in his hand and even in his hat after a handmaiden had assured the crowd it was empty.”

“Do you believe they were magic or tricks?”

Again, Hanna hesitated. The magician was clever, and people enjoyed his performance, but even though she didn’t know how he did his tricks, she believed them to be no more than that. “They were not magic.”

“That is the difference. A mage studies the ancient arts of alchemy and transformation, among others. A true mage can do things no magician ever can. For instance, I once watched a magician make a fire briefly appear in his hand. True, it only lasted an instant, but I’m certain it was fire, all the same.”

Hannah turned to face him. “But it was a trick, right?”

The Knight moved the horses away from the stream and tethered them to a pair of saplings where they could find green grass to eat. He didn’t give her the impression he was teasing, but still, amusement tinged his demeanor. “Something he had placed in his hand burned brightly for an instant, maybe a thin oil. People were impressed but realized he tricked them, with their permission. Now imagine the same crowd surrounding an eleven-year-old girl when she holds up her finger with a tiny flame burning at the tip. Not for an instant, but for long enough to draw several breaths. One is a magic trick. The other is the work of a mage.”

“You saw my flame?”

“I did. I stood behind the Old Mage and to his left. You were clever in your presentation, and only he and I saw it.”

“What did you think?” she asked.

“I looked at your face and saw the features of the Old Mage in you. I knew you were his child instantly but wondered why you dressed as a girl. I assumed you were in disguise.”

Hannah sat and allowed emotions to flow. Tears flowed like tiny twin waterfalls. When Sir James moved closer to console her, she stubbornly shook her head. “No, I need to control myself. There will be a time for crying later. Besides riding to the King’s Castle, and making me read, what are your plans for me?”

“They are our plans, and as such, we should discuss the future. The first, and most important, is the knowledge that nobody else must ever know you are a mage.”

“Because they’ll kill me?”

“Without a doubt. Not just the other mages, but people, in general, are superstitious and fearful of anything they don’t understand.”

“But you said I would study the scrolls my father owned.”

“Did I ever say it would be easy?” He chuckled. His eyes also watched the meadow, especially the path they used to enter. “But not impossible.”

Hannah used the time to contrast him and her. She’d had her birthday over half a year ago, and was nearer twelve than eleven, but would keep that to herself for now. She stood head high to his chest, perhaps a little more. Sir James was taller than most men, but his build was not that of the heavy muscled soldiers. His was lean, almost thin, his muscles hard. But his movements were smooth and as sure as if he was half his age.

Guessing age came easily when applied to children, but not so when guessing adult age, especially men. While he was quick and moved with grace, lines crisscrossed his face where there was no neatly trimmed beard, age lines and well as scars gathered from dozens of opponents. His dark hair held thin streaks of white. She asked, “If two men charged us right now, what would you do?”

“Kill them.”

“If there are four?”

“Same answer.”

“If there are ten? All of them big and with swords as long as your arm?”

“I would try to kill them.”

She watched a small duck fly overhead and then splash land into the shallow stream. “You changed your answer.”

“I’m confident I can defend us against four common soldiers. Ten is a different matter.”

She grinned and pointed at him. “So you can defeat between four and ten soldiers? How about seven?”

He threw his head back and laughed. “How big are these men and what weapons do they carry?”

“Your answer tells me you believe you might defeat seven soldiers,” she teased. “That tells me you are either a wonderful liar or a dangerous man.”

He laughed again, with more humor than he’d shown since she met him. “I may be both. Now climb back into that saddle and we’ll move on.”

Surprisingly, climbing back onto the horse was not as hard as anticipated. Hannah was stiff and sore but found she liked being on the back of the horse. Besides, it made her feel safer sitting on such a powerful animal, perched so high in the air. The horse would carry her away at the first hint of danger. She gave the animal a pat on the neck and received a shiver and snort in response. She assumed that was good.

The knight seemed to know where he was going. He never faltered. She had never been out of the Earl’s Palace until a day ago, so all she saw around her was new, and her eyes wandered as she rode, often in amazement or enchantment, and sometimes wonder or fear. She also realized after yesterday and last night, that there were many more things she didn’t know and more she hadn’t seen, so she asked, “Have you been this way?”

“No, but our King lives to the west, so I’m following the setting sun.”

That made sense. The sun always went down in the same place, more or less. He was confident of the direction and for good reason. They followed the game trails through the forest. When one veered off, they found another, always riding west. They came into an area where fewer deciduous trees grew, and most of them were small. There were, though, more evergreens, including pines, cedar, and fir. Hannah looked into the sky and squinted as the setting sun was directly in front of them. The food in their bedroll called to her, but no magic was involved. It was the natural result of being eleven or twelve, hungry, and still growing.

Sir James had stopped talking earlier, and the few times she’d chanced looking behind, his head also faced the rear. Something back there worried him, and so it worried her. A tenseness about him told her the earlier laughing was as leaves blowing in the wind. It had been with them and now was not.

The horses carried them over a small hill, and another stream lay ahead, along with a thick stand of maples, or other hardwood off to the left, standing out because of the evergreens surrounding it. He said, “Follow the stream until the trees fully hide you and the horse. There you will tie your horse well, conceal yourself, and then you’ll sleep.”

“Can I eat first?”

“Yes, but no fire. Hide if you see anyone but me. If discovered, leap on your horse and flee downstream. Forgive me for not providing you a story to tell if we encounter strangers, but we will do that in the morning.”

“You’re going back there to find what’s following us, aren’t you?”

“I saw flashes of the sun glint off metal three times. We have a follower.”

“We could ride faster,” she suggested. “Ride into the night and get away.”

“And wonder who is back there the whole time and when they might catch up and murder us? Or, I can head back to see what I can do to discourage them.”

Hannah felt the first prickles of fear. “What will happen to me if you die?”

“I won’t.”

“My father would have said that a day ago, wouldn’t he? Please don’t go.”

Sir James said, “If they kill me, you’re to ride to the King’s castle and tell the guards my name and that I sent you with a message for the King’s ear alone. You’ll demand an audience and tell him all of the last few days—but not that you’re a mage, of course. As for me, I give you my word that I’ll avoid danger if possible. Once I know who is back there I can plan our future.”

He spun his horse and trotted away. Hannah watched his back and felt more tears fall, but didn’t bother to wipe them. Then she did as he’d told her. Once safely in the thick trees along the stream, she tied the horse to a stout tree, leaving one end of the reigns where a solid pull with her hand, would free them. She ate a sparse meal and wrapped herself in a blanket to wait. She wouldn’t sleep until he returned.

Darkness fell, and with it, the air turned cooler. A breeze picked up and rattled dry leaves and branches, startling her several times. As her mind made up tales of people sneaking up on her, she pulled her knees up under her chin but remained ready to leap to her feet and run to the horse. She slipped the knife from the scabbard and held it by the hilt under her blanket, ready to jump up and defend herself. She was not sure which would be the better choice. Sir James had promised to teach her fighting, and she intended for him to keep that promise. He hadn’t taught her any of it yet, but the first day had not come to an end. She would remind him.

An owl hooted and another answered. She was familiar with them. They had roosted in the barns of the palace, and their calls were welcome. Night insects created their sounds, chirps, buzzes, and clicks. A small animal scurried in the nearby brush to one side. She stood and found the horse grazing a dozen steps away. She untied it and moved it to her side. It knew the friendly sounds and the dangerous ones as well. If the horse became excited, so would she.

When the horse lifted its head and peered into the darkness, she did too. The blanket no longer provided enough warmth as she prepared to abandon it and run. The horse’s ears twitched, then a dark blur approached and quickly became the knight.

“It’s me,” he called softly.

Standing, Hannah relaxed and fought conflicting emotions. She wanted to race to him and cling to the safety he provided. Her heart pounded. As the kitchen fire-starter, she had never experienced the emotional highs and lows of the last two days.

As he neared her and the horse, it snorted and backed away nervously. Its actions backed her away too, as she looked for the reason. A dark stain covered his upper arm, clearly seen in the moonlight. Another darker blotch covered his stomach. Blood. It was blood.

“Are you hurt?” She asked, understanding the reaction of her horse. It smelled the blood and turned naturally skittish.

He climbed down from his saddle, more slowly than earlier. “No, just tired.”

“You’re covered in blood.”

“Not mine. There were three of them back there. Bounty hunters sent to find and kill you.”

“They told you that?” she asked, not questioning what he said, but trying to find more information than the bare facts he provided.

He hobbled his horse with a leather thong and said, “No, they didn’t. The only one alive, agreed to talk to me if I would send a message to his widow. He said the Young Mage at the Earl’s Palace provided the gold for the assassins and bounty hunters. He’s the son of a wealthy merchant, but even he does not have that much wealth. I think the mage followed instructions by a woman named Princess Eleonore, the wife of Lord Jeffery. I believe she provided the coin.”

“I have never heard of either of them,” Hannah said.

“Do you remember the conversation with the Old Mage about the line of succession?”

“I remember, but do not understand.”

He settled beside her on the grass, a blanket around his shoulders. “Imagine people standing in line. One at a time. The one in front gets to be called a King, lives in a palace, has gold, willing ladies to do his bidding, and people fighting to obey his every wish. When he dies, the next in line gets all those things. Do you understand that much?”

“I think so. I’m in that line.”

“Exactly. Your father was number four. That makes your previous position number five, but you will now take his place at four. Had he lived, everyone behind him would have been pushed back one place. Now they will remain the same unless you die.”

Hannah closed her eyes and tried to picture the people in the imaginary line Sir James use as his example. “With my father’s death, and me entering the line, nothing changes for them. Why is that a problem?”

“Good question. It’s well known that your father would have refused the crown if it ever came to him. Ahead of him are two others who will refuse it. One is too ill to rule, another too old. In reality, you are not number four; you are two.”

“They hate me for that?”

“Let me explain in simpler terms. If the King dies—his eldest son rules. If the son dies, you are next in line and will be the Queen. You are young and may rule seventy-five years or more, and with each birth of a child to you, those still waiting in line will move back another spot.”

“The King’s son may rule that long, too! He may have children of his own, and then I will move back.”

“Royal intrigue is a curious thing, my Princess. Younger sons often kill their older brothers. Sisters poison brothers. A carriage containing the right four people can roll off a cliff and someone far down the line as number five becomes King the next day. Few kings live long lives and the same for Queens. The closer you are to the crown the more danger you are in.”

“I would be safer if I was number twenty in that line of yours?”

“Safer from assassination, for sure. But, each position in line also determines the castle you live in, the royal allowance provided, and the lineage of your children. One unfortunate death may move your children from obscurity to bearing a title. The competition is fierce.”

“I didn’t ask for any of this. How do I get out of it?” Hannah asked.

“You don’t. At least not for many years. From the King’s viewpoint, you have an obligation to serve your people unless you cannot do so because of ailment, age, or insanity. The King will not allow you to make such a decision at a young age. You are far too young to make a choice that lasts a lifetime and affects tens of thousands.”

Hannah sat and stewed. There had to be a way out. “How old is the King’s son?”

“Thirty-five, maybe a year or two older. He could have many good years ahead of him to rule the kingdom, and of course, if he fathers, children, they will step in front of you in the line.”

“Is he married?”

The Knight cleared his throat before speaking as if stalling before answering. He chose his words carefully. “I believe the King’ son, the Royal Prince has a very handsome boyfriend.”

The statement took a second to sink in. If the Prince had a boyfriend, there would be no children. “I’m beginning to understand. No matter what I do, if the King recognizes me as my father’s child, I’m doomed. I’ll upset the whole line. Maybe he won’t name me as my father’s daughter.”

Sir James laughed softly to himself and when finished, paused and then laughed again. “There is no chance he will not. First of all, I will testify to what I know, and that is enough to establish your royalty. Second, he was a great friend to your father and will insist you take your rightful place. But, most of all is my third reason. If he formally recognizes you, the assassination of his son becomes less likely because that places you on his throne. You will prevent others from taking the crown by killing his son, the Prince so that you protect his son.”

“You could lie to him about me,” Hannah said.

“No, I’m sworn to the crown. I cannot lie to my King. And I made my promises to your father, a man I greatly admired and liked.”

“So, I’m almost a Queen whether I like it or not?”

“Only if we avoid the rest of the assassins roaming the land in search of you.”