by LeRoy Clary
“It wouldn’t come to me,” she snapped. “You should have hit it with the bucket.”
“You just have to get its attention.” He said, not allowing the smile threatening to grow to get any wider. “Much like when dealing with little girls.”
Inside the barn, he did short work of putting the mule in the harness. The farmer barely watched them. He glanced at one thing for a while, then another as if he couldn’t make up his mind what he wanted to see. He didn’t speak.
Sir James said, “Wait here.”
When he didn’t return as quickly as expected, she worried. When he entered the barn again, he wore old, patched, clothing, and a hat made of straw. He carried a small blanket like a bag, the contents weighing down the middle. It went into the wagon bed.
“Stealing his clothing, food, and what else?”
“Inside on the table is a bill of sale for the two horses and saddles we’re leaving here. They’re worth much more than this old wagon and mule.”
“Except he didn’t want to sell them in the first place. Now the farmer will have to find a buyer and replace his wagon and mule.”
“I also left him my only coin, a large silver worth enough to buy most of this farm. I saved it for an emergency. And I left my apology.”
“Okay, I guess he’ll be fine. Now, how are we going to do this?”
Sir James pointed to the hay stored in the loft. “You’re going up there and pitch down a small load.”
“While I am up there doing all the work, what will you be doing?”
“Oh, my job will be to spread it around in the wagon.”
She went up the ladder a step at a time, casting him more than one glare, but in truth, she wanted to see what might be up there. At the top, she found dried hay and little else. She went to the edge and found the wagon directly under it, the Knight standing ready to ‘spread it around.'
She hid her impulsive grin by ducking quickly and gathering up as large an armful as she could carry, then she tossed it over the edge, on top of where Sir James stood.
“You missed me,” he called, laughing like the funniest thing he’d ever seen just happened, and perhaps it did. He’d known she would try that, so he moved away. That made her smile, too. He was good natured and had a sense of humor. He’d need one to raise her, she decided. In only a couple of days, he’d figured out that she was not the usual little girl who unquestioningly did what she was told. The next several armloads fell into the wagon, and he used the pitchfork to spread it over the bed of the wagon.
“That should be plenty,” he called, and she scampered down the ladder.
She said, “You knew I’d throw that hay at you. How? Did I give myself away?”
“Nope,” he said smugly. “It’s because that’s what I would have done at your age.”
They both laughed. She looked at the farmer. “Will he be okay?”
“The dogs will look after him.”
“How is this going to work?” She asked again.
“Well, I’m not sure. The spell is supposed to make people look in other directions, not at you. I don’t know what it’ll do to me.”
She looked at the folded envelope in his hand. “You won’t be able to see me?”
“Not if it works, I guess. I never thought of that until now.”
She moved to his side. “Sprinkle half of it on me. Save the rest for tomorrow.”
He held it over her head allowed it to fall and spread over her as he observed intently. “I don’t think it’s working.”
“Maybe because you were watching? Look over there,” she pointed.
He turned, and she stepped back three steps and stood still. When he turned around, he looked to her left, right, and in front of her. His eyes searched the far corners of the barn, but each time they came near her they darted away as if scared. “Where are you?”
“Right here,” she said.
His eyes moved all around, but never once focused on her. “It’s working, but I never saw anything like it. Imagine an army sprinkled with that stuff.”
“Do you always think about war and stuff?”
“I do,” he said, reaching out his hand and touching her. “I’m a warrior. We’ll have to be careful of this. People can hear and touch you, so keep that in mind. Don’t sneeze or get into a position where they can touch you. Now, climb into the wagon bed and we can be on our way.”
She climbed in and spread the hay for a soft place to lay, then covered herself with a thin layer.
“You might want to cover yourself with some hay, just in case,” he said.
“That’s a good idea,” she giggled as he made a clucking sound with his tongue to entice the mule into leaving the barn. Being not seen might be more fun than she imagined. Soon they were on the road, the mule moving at a pace slower than she walked. A few farmers working their fields waved, but the road remained empty. They left the valley and entered another, larger one. As the trees thinned at the head of the valley, two men leaped from the cover of boulders at the side of the road, each holding a knife.
“Hold it right there,” one said, placing himself in front of the mule. The other stood beside the Knight without any idea of the danger he was in. Hannah knew the Knight could kill him before he knew the attack happened.
“What’s going on?” Sir James asked, his voice shaking as if scared.
“We’re looking for a girl about eleven or twelve. Straw-colored hair and a turned up nose. She might be with a big man such as yourself.” He glanced at the bed of the wagon, his face close enough for her to reach out and touch. Hannah held her breath so he wouldn’t hear her.
“I haven’t seen anyone on my farm for days.”
The one holding the mule asked, “Any gold or silver on you?”
The Knight said, “Sure thing. My farm has so much gold in the fields my plow can’t turn over the ground in spring. If I had any coins would I be in this old wagon? And that mule?”
“Let him go. It’s plain he’s poorer than us,” the other highwayman said. He reached into the purse at his hip and pulled a small copper coin free and tossed it to the Knight, who snatched it from the air as if he had no coins, which was true. Both of the highwaymen laughed at the gesture.
“He needs it more’n us.” They both laughed again, and the Knight joined in.
The wagon rumbled on down the road, and the two highwaymen slipped back into the trees to wait for their next victim. When they were out of earshot, Sir James said, “This is the King’s Road. He has not been doing a good job of protecting travelers from what I see.”
“Isn’t that part of your job?” she asked. “You’re the King’s hand, my father said. This seems like another job you’re not doing well. And my nose is not turned up, as he said.”
He paused, “I agree, it is my job now. The day we arrive at the palace there will be knights and squires dispatched to clear these roads of trash like them. I had no idea there were that many of them.”
“Put a bounty on them. Like they did on me.”
Sir James glanced over his shoulder. “Remind me never to cross you, my princess.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
They were accosted three more times before nightfall. The ruffians, bounty hunters, highwaymen, or whatever they called themselves, searched for a blond girl of eleven or twelve with a turned up nose. Each time she watched their eyes as they looked into the bed of the wagon but didn’t see her. The eyes went from one corner of it to another, and she broke out in a fear-induced sweat, trembling now and then. But in every search, they declared the wagon empty and the driver without anything of value to steal until one found the copper coin and took it, much to the chagrin of the Knight.
Hannah carefully watched her new ‘uncle’ at the repeated stops. His face flushed, and his fingers curled into fists. The answers Sir James provided them grew shorter and sharper.
The following morning three more groups stopped the wagon as it drew nearer to the palace. The searches grew intense. In
the morning, Hannah had stood under Sir James’ outstretched hand as he sprinkled the last of the ‘no-see-me’ powder over her. She climbed back into the wagon, tired, upset, and scared.
She counted on her fingers the number of times they stopped, and the attempts of highwaymen to stop them. If every road held as many seeking to earn the reward for her head, there must be hundreds of people trying to find her. The gold offered must be a treasure.
She said, “I’m getting angry.”
“Tired?”
“No, angry. Not so much at the people trying to find me, but the person behind all this. The Young Mage working for the Earl is not responsible, if not behind it, but he’s not paying others to do his work, someone else is.”
“I knew you were smart, little girl, but not that smart. Men seeking gold for your head is just trying to earn wages for them, high wages, but still just coins. The person paying for your head is the one you and I seek.” Sir James clucked his tongue to make the mule move faster, but it acted as if it didn’t notice the pace remained the same slow slog as the previous day.
She rode in silence, thinking about what he’d said. Then, without warning, she blurted, “We would never have made it without the confusion grapes, and the no-see-me powder from the sorceress.”
“We’d have made it, but not riding in a wagon,” he paused. “It may have taken longer and men would have died.”
“What are you thinking?” she asked, confused at his statement.
He glanced around making sure they were still alone. “I think I’d have realized the danger and taken you to a safe place to hide out for a month or so. If any of them sniffed around, I’d have fought. After about a month the excitement of locating you would die down and slipping into the Palace become a possibility.”
“I should have paid attention to the sorceress and how she made her spells.”
“It wouldn’t have helped. You’re a mage, not a sorceress.”
Hannah drew in a deep breath. “Meaning that no matter how hard I try I can’t make the spells she did?”
“Unless you are more than we know, and you are the first to be both a mage and sorceress, the answer is, no. They are like fire and water. You can’t mix the two magics. The sorceress deals with earthly compounds, extracts of plants combined to create her magic, along with predictions, sometimes both at the same time, as in a love potion.”
“And a mage is different, but I still don’t see how. Both are magic.”
“Think of a mage as a ‘changer.' A mage does not do trickery. He simply makes things change, if that can be called simple. He is a transformer of things. He draws power from one place and moves it to another.”
“Remember, I’m only eleven.”
He nodded. “I stand corrected. Let me try again. Suppose you want to be warmer and you have dry wood. You build a fire, right?”
“With my finger?”
“No, it does not matter how you do it for my example. You build a fire with the wood, and it creates warmth. Understand?”
“So far.”
“Good. Now think about what happens to the wood.”
“It burned, silly.”
“That’s the easy answer. The mage sees it transformed from wood to warmth. Ashes are the leftover, but to him the wood is transformed from one thing to another.”
The wagon rumbled on as Hannah thought about his example. Another band of thieves delayed them for a few questions, but behind rolled another wagon and the delay was short so the two thieves could rush to inspect the other, more prosperous appearing wagon.
Picking up the conversation again, Hannah said, “Anyone can burn a piece of wood.”
“Right you are. Now I’d like to make that mule move a little faster, but I have no whip. Do you see that little piece of straw stuck to his left rear leg?”
“I do.”
“A good mage would transform that straw by lighting it on fire. The mule would feel the burn and snap awake, hopefully walking faster.”
“But a sorceress would cast a spell telling the mule a good meal is waiting just over the crest of the next hill. Same effect, just different ways to do it. I think I’m beginning to see.”
“There are more people approaching the palace, and the road will soon begin filling with people. They’ll notice if I’m talking to you, or think me crazy and talking to myself. Either way, talking will attract unwanted attention. If you take a short nap, you’ll wake with the palace in sight.”
Hannah sat up and placed a hand on his shoulder. She spoke into his ear, “Will it be beautiful?”
He nodded.
“Will the King be glad to see me?”
He whispered, barely moving his lips, “Yes and no. He was a great friend of your father. He will be sad to hear of his death. He’ll be thrilled to meet you.”
“Will I like it there?”
“Some of it. The beginning of your life there will be hard, and there will be things you will not like, but you will find interesting people, and there is much to learn.”
“Some people won’t like me.”
“It won’t be you. It will be your assumption of power. In time they will like you.”
Hannah adjusted herself in the hay and watched the nearby farms roll past. A farmer waved, and she waved back before realizing he couldn’t see her. She said, “One of those who won’t like me may die.”
“Don’t speak of killing. You’re far too young,” Sir James said from the corner of his mouth.
“I was talking about you, not me. You are going to kill the man who sent them after us and killed my father.”
“In that case, you are correct, at least one will die, and soon. If I find out who ordered your father’s death, he will die that very day. Or she. From my experience, women are more dangerous than men.”
“Someday I will be a dangerous woman.”
He said softly, “Someday you may be the most dangerous of women. But right now, I told you to be quiet. Look up ahead and soon you’ll catch a glimpse of the King’s Palace.”
Hannah watched the trees beside the road, some new varieties to her. The approaching wagons hauled farm produce, animals for sale, and other goods. The people dressed much as the Knight in his farmer clothing, but most were cleaner and looked more prosperous. A carriage pulled by a beautiful black horse drew near. A driver dressed in orange sat up in front, and two young women faced each other inside the carriage, chatting and giggling as the carriage passed the peasants.
Sir James half-turned his face away from them. The dark-haired girl glanced his way, then away and started to speak again. Then she stopped, turned and looked closer, but the carriage rolled beyond and soon she was whispering and giggling again.
“She knew you?”
“Yes,” he said.
“I don’t think she recognized you, though.”
Sir James had pulled the battered straw hat low over his forehead and slumped in the seat. “People will know me as we get closer to the palace. First one, then all as the word spreads.”
A group of walkers went by, two of them wishing them a good morning. Hannah had to keep from responding. For a chatterbox like her, being invisible became a task. She couldn’t speak when spoken to, couldn’t move when others were near, and she felt hungry again, but their food was gone.
She wondered about the old farmer who now owned their horses. It had been a good trade for him, especially with the silver coin thrown in, but when he returned to his normal self when the spell wore off, what were his thoughts? Did he think his mind grew weak? Did the idea of a spell cast over him ever cross his mind?
His experience stood out in her mind. A mage or sorceress must consider the effects on others after the spells wear off. Hannah decided to consider that as a major item in her education. And also to learn the difference between the sorceress' and mages. Each seemed to hold advantages, but the dividing line still seemed fuzzy.
A flicker of color captured her attention. Ahead, just over the next hill, rose
a gray tower, a yellow flag waving from the pointed roof. The mule slowly pulled them to the top of the hill and with each step more of the King’s Palace came into view. There appeared to be six of the round towers, one at each place where the high walls made turns. Different color flags or banners flew from each rooftop.
Between the towers ran walls so tall the longest ladder couldn’t reach up to them. Men walked the tops of the walls, so there had to be walkways from tower to tower. The top of the wall had a design built into it. Sections were missing. As the soldiers walked the parapet, they almost flickered as they passed behind the stone cutouts. Then, in a flash of understanding, she knew they could hide behind the taller sections and leap to the others to shoot arrows, throw spears, or whatever.
The Earl’s Castle had always seemed fantastically large. Hundreds of people lived in that one ‘house’, Royals, servants, slaves, and freemen. The palace on the hill ahead could hold ten of the Earl’s Castles. More. But the Earl’s Castle had been constructed as a summer home in the forest, later converted to a castle, or a large home for Royalty. The Palace ahead had been constructed as a fortress, a massive stone defensive fortification ready to stand against any attackers.
Several paths and roads had intersected with the main road, the travelers all using the same road leading to the Palace until Hannah decided she had seen more people on the road than lived in the Earl’s Castle, and those were only the people who chose to travel on this day. The realization made her swallow and feel small and insignificant. She’d expected to see a castle similar to her old home, but perhaps larger. Instead, she found a Palace so large she couldn’t comprehend its size.
“What do you think?” the knight muttered.
“Huge. I’m scared.”
“I expected you to say how pretty it is. Maybe something else, but not scary.”
“In there are people who want me dead. At least one of them, and I have no idea who it is, so how could it be anything but scary? Any person on this road might be a killer looking to collect a reward for my head.”
“If there is one thing I could tell you to help you survive, that would be it. Do not be fooled by the colorful banners and fake smiles. Until you establish yourself and your claims, consider it a pit of vipers.”
