The Mage's Daughter: Book One: Discovery

by LeRoy Clary

  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.”

  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 aske
d, 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.”