Through The Fire: The Alawansi Book One

by Valerie Puissant

  Wylan had made sure I had a fine suit of clothes before we left Bedato, so I did not look like a penniless beggar as I had when I first met him. I knew I looked like a young man of means. I met the eyes of the vendor. My voice was naturally husky, but I tried to deepen it a bit as I spoke. The result made me sound as if I was not quite a boy and not quite a man. “I will take three cakes, please.” Honey cakes were a rare treat in my home, growing up, but sometimes, when Father had had a particularly good market day, he would bring home a few for the family to cut up and share. I had always savored my little mouthful for as long as I could. Today I was keenly aware that there was enough money in my pocket for me to enjoy as many cakes as I pleased and I intended to do just that.

  “That is what I like to see! A young man with an appetite. If you keep eating hearty like that, you will be big and strong in no time, just like your poppa.” I gave him a small smile and walked away.

  All my life, I had been told, “A lady should not have seconds. We have to save the extra food for the men who work hard in the field.” This was an often repeated saying in my home, even in the warmer seasons when food was plentiful. No one ever told boys and men that they ate too much.

  Even though I had been transformed from a sixteen year old girl to a twelve year old boy less than a week ago, I did not find slipping into the role as difficult as I had imagined. I had never been very much like other girls in my village. I did not bow my head in the presence of men and I did not cover my mouth and giggle behind the backs of cute boys. I had never bothered to modify my pace to make sure I walked behind the men in the village. Since nature had given me short legs, I rarely kept up with the tall people around me anyway. Wylan had solved my bathroom problem pretty quickly and handily. “The boy’s bowels have turned to water,” he told our driver at the first rest stop we made, “Travel does not agree with him. Best we just give him the travel pot and let him do his business out in the woods where it is less likely to offend.” The driver never questioned it.

  For the most part though, Wylan seemed to have completely forgotten about my gender. He mainly focused on teaching me my role as his apprentice, a social position which gave me a standing just slightly above that of a favorite hound. I was expected to keep silent and keep my head down in the presence of my master. I was expected to walk beside him and obey his commands without question. I had adapted myself to the role without much difficulty. He never demanded anything unsavory or unreasonable, and I often appreciated his guidance when navigating strange, new situations. Today though, I was enjoying the ability to navigate a new situation all on my own.

  I walked around, eating my sweet cakes and watching the mummers. I saw one who swallowed swords and another who breathed fire. I watched as he blew caustic liquid onto the flames and wondered idly if I could make my living in such a manner if I failed as a mage. By the time I had finished the third cake, I had begun to see the folly of my ways. I was truly beginning to feel the stomach distress I professed to have, so I decided to walk the marketplace and view the wares until my stomach settled itself.

  I turned down one narrow street and spied a group of five or six boys in my path. My stomach tightened. Back home I had been a favorite target for cruelty from the boys in my village. They loved to trip me up and pull my hair or knock books from my hands. I did not relish an encounter with the boys on the street in front of me, even though I did not know them, sense memory made me wary. I wanted to run but experience taught me that running would be a poor choice. The boys looked my way as I drew closer. I swallowed hard. I knew I could defend myself if they chose to accost me, but could not be sure I would have enough control not to kill them in the process. As I approached them, I braced myself for confrontation and then, one of them spoke. “Good evening, young sir. Me and my fellows here is looking for positions in a fine house. We can scrape boots, muck stables or turn spit in the kitchens.” I looked at him, shocked and he suddenly removed his cap as if he had just remembered that it was the proper thing to do.

  I had no idea how to respond to this perfectly polite and reasonable request, so I decided to go with the truth. “I am but an apprentice myself and I am bound for Fadaria. But if I hear of any work there I will send word to you.”

  They all bowed, hats in hands and I walked on, lost in thought about how thoroughly my role had changed. Then I saw a peddler’s stand with a fine collection of small knives, perfect for wood carving. I had loved to carve figures before my powers stole the simple pleasure. Once, I had made a complete army of soldiers, a little family with a mother, a father and nine children, and a beautiful prince and princess for my little brothers and sisters to play with. When my powers came, it became difficult to carve because sticks and wooden knife handles sometimes burst into flames in my hands. “Yes, young sir, how can I be of service on this fine day.” The vendor’s words shook me from my musing.

  “I would like to see your collection of pocket knives please.” He handed them to me with a curt bow and left me to look them over while he helped other customers. He did not look over my shoulder or ask where my father was. He just left me to my shopping. There were more ornate knives, but I decided to go with something simple and utilitarian. I planned to use my knife for work. It was not just for show. I liked its dark leather case which came with a loop for my belt. I paid for it with the rest of my copper coins and put it on right away.

  The sun was getting low in the sky, and I knew I needed to head back to the inn, but on my way back, I came across a shop and I simply had to stop. It was a general store, but it had three entire shelves dedicated to books. They were not the old fashioned hand written type like the ones I had gotten from Uma. They were modern moveable type books, printed on wood pulp paper, all the way from Geronia. I went into the store and looked through every single book on the shelf, setting aside a pile of five for myself. I had found three story books about knights and dragons and romance, one book about ancient marvels from other lands. My travels had fed my thirst for knowledge about other places. The last was a book about the Alawansi, the magic folk. It had a small section about fire mages and I thought I might get a little more information about myself. I told the man not to bother wrapping my books. I carried them proudly, in full view of all who passed me. It would have been highly unusual to see a woman walking the streets with anything more than one thin picture book, but learned men often carried thick volumes. I had probably paid too much for my books, but I did not care. My pouch was still jangling with silver, and I had stories to transport me on the long journey into the unknown.

  It was almost full dark when I finally turned the corner on the street near our inn. Wylan was standing at the end of the block, watching the street. With my arms full of books, I could not wave to him, then I realized that might be a good thing. I was not sure if men waved to each other or not. I noticed that he was carrying a parcel too. He did not scold me for being late. He simply nodded his head and turned to head back into the inn. I did not know if he had been standing on the corner waiting for me or if he had been in the apothecary that was directly behind him. I did not have time to ask as I struggled to keep up with his stride. I finally caught up when he stopped to drop a few coins into the cup of a blind beggar, an Invisible, as people called them. It was the name given to the lame, sick or simple people in society. Wylan did not speak to the man with his gift of coins, he demonstrated that he had chosen to “see” the unfortunate man. He looked at the man and touched his shoulder, acknowledging his existence. It was illegal for Invisibles to call attention to themselves in any way. It was left up to regular citizens whether or not they wanted to notice, speak to or aid an Invisible. Wylan always did. It was just one of the many peculiarities of the man that I had noticed during our short acquaintance. He never failed to give alms to a beggar when we passed one and this time was no exception. Now that I had coin to spare in my pocket, I followed suit and dropped a coin into the cup as well. Wylan looked at me, his face unreadable, then he turned and co
ntinued on his way to the inn. I jogged behind him, trying to keep up.

  ***

  We got back on the road at just past sunrise the next morning. Some of the inns we had stayed at along the way had rooms with two separate beds for men traveling together. This one did not. I had slept on a thin pallet on the floor and Wylan had occupied the bed. “Your bones are younger than mine. I cannot see where a night on the floor would do you much harm.” My bones were not that much younger than his, but he was still right about one thing. I had slept on the floor plenty of times so it made no difference to me. Neither of us disrobed at night. We were strangers of opposite gender sharing a room. That seemed to be enough impropriety for both of us. We rose from our beds each morning and washed as best we could in the cold water from the pitcher next to the wash stand, then we continued on our journey.

  I watched the town pass by the window of the carriage, clutching my precious books in my arms. I was saving them until we had left the town. I wanted to read them when the scenery got monotonous. When I finally untied my cloth wrapped bundle, and pulled out the first book, I felt Wylan’s eyes upon me. I looked up at him. “You need not have bought the books. In the tower we have an extensive collection. There are even more in the castle archive and we are allowed access.”

  “I love books and I wanted to have a few that were all my own. Is that not permitted?”

  He reached into the small traveling bag on the seat next to him and pulled out a small volume. “This is what I bought with my first wages. I could not even read it at the time.” He handed it to me. It was a beautiful, hand illustrated book of botany. It contained a lot of the same information that I had gotten from Uma’s home bound texts, but his book was a work of art. It must have cost him all of several week’s salary to own such a thing. I paged through it carefully.

  “It is beautiful. If I had spotted a volume this fine, I think I would have emptied my pockets to have it.”

  He almost smiled. “When I first got it, I vowed to grow every single plant mentioned in its pages.”

  I was dumbfounded. “Did you do it? Do they still live?”

  He nodded. “Most of them do. I am an earth mage, after all.” I nodded, pretending to understand what he meant when I truly did not. “I confess though, I did let the itch leaf and the stink bloom perish, once I understood what they were.”

  “I had my own run in with itch leaf and it is not an experience I wish to repeat!”

  He nearly chuckled, but then he stopped himself and took it gently from my hands. “You may borrow it some time, if you wish.” He put the book away and pulled a much larger volume out of his case, then bent his head to read. That was the end of conversation. I never much minded his habit of silence, but today I positively relished it. I was eager to lose myself in my own stories and I was glad that I would not be disturbed.

  ***

  I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, my bladder near full to bursting. It was dark so there was not enough light to read by in order to keep my mind off of my discomfort. “How much longer until we reach the inn?”

  Wylan watched my body language. “I take it you need another rest stop? I thought I told you to go at the last stop.”

  “I did go. Now I need to go again.” We had honey sweetened, cool tea with lunch and it had been so delicious that I drank too much. Now we were all paying the price.

  Wylan rolled his eyes. “Oh very well.” He knocked on the roof of the carriage to signal the driver to stop. “Make it quick, lad,” he yelled after me as I scampered into the darkness of the tree line. “No more sweet cakes for you until we arrive. It is clear they do not agree with your digestion.”

  I did not go in very far because it was dark and I did not want to encounter anyone or anything while I relieved myself. I quickly positioned the small travel pot underneath myself and squatted. When my muscles relaxed, I let my mind drift. Suddenly I felt a familiar tingle of power. The sensation was not unfamiliar, but I knew instantly that it was not a lack of control this time. I was not about to set a stand of trees ablaze. Wylan had seen to it that I had enough control that I did not have to fear unhappy accidents any more. This tingle was different. I was not about to make a fire myself, but suddenly I could sense a fire off in the distance. Someone had made a small cook fire near the side of the road somewhere just ahead of us. Of course, it was not unusual for travelers to camp in the woods at night. Not everyone could afford to stay at the inn. Something told me though, that those were not weary travelers, bedding down for the night.

  I hurried back to the carriage and Wylan opened the door for me. I was not sure how to explain what had happened without sounding insane but I had to say something. “I sense fire.”

  “You mean you have a spell coming on?”

  I shook my head. “No, there is a small cook fire up ahead and I can feel it. It is not smoky, not easy to see, but I can sense it. I know it is there. There is a fire and the people who built it may not be friendly, though that part I cannot say for sure. I just feel there may be trouble.”

  He nodded at my words and climbed down from his seat in the carriage. He walked to the side of the road and planted his staff into the softer dirt, then he placed his palm over the clear crystal at the top. He looked at me and nodded, then he turned to the driver. “We may have trouble up ahead. I sense two sets of boots on the ground. The boy says in about a mile. Drive forward but let us keep cautious eyes on the road.” Wylan climbed back into his seat and he turned to me. “I want you to get down on the floor of the carriage and keep silent. Do not get up until I tell you to. Do you understand? Your life may depend on it.” I nodded and scooted off my seat and onto the floor. There was not much room on the floor of the carriage, but I made myself as small as possible.

  We rode forward in tense silence and I felt the moment that the small cook fire was extinguished. Whoever was on the road ahead of us had put it out to conceal their presence. They knew we were coming, but they did not know we were prepared for them. Moments later there was shouting in the road. My belly clenched in terror as the carriage was pulled to a halt. I tried to make out words, but I could not. Wylan stepped down from the carriage. I could hear his uneven footfalls as he approached the men. “Good evening, gentlemen. What seems to be the problem here?”

  Raucous laughter erupted from the men. There were two distinct voices that I could make out. “Good Gods! What happened to your skin? Have you seen a ghost? Did the color drain out when they cut off your manhood and made you wear that pretty green dress?” Both men broke into more tremendous peals of laughter.

  “I agree, it is quite a pretty color. Did you notice the symbol here on my chest? It is the royal seal. I am abroad on the king’s business and he would be most put out if my return is delayed in any manner.” I could not believe how calm Wylan sounded. It was as if he was held up by highwaymen every day.

  “Well then, do not let us keep you from your journey. We will just take whatever coin you have, and of course all your pretty jewels and bows.” I could not help myself. I needed to take a peek. I needed to see what was happening. I raised my head so just my eyes peered out above the window of the carriage. I was counting on the darkness to conceal me from view. Even if I had been visible, they would not have noticed me because just as my eyes caught sight of the men, Wylan had swung his staff and swept the legs out from under the shorter man, then he placed a boot on the man’s throat. At the same time, he reached out and grabbed the taller man by the neck.

  “Damn it all!” I heard the whispered curse coming from the nearby trees but I did not think Wylan had heard it. I shifted my focus and squinted into the darkness. Suddenly I spotted a third brigand, an archer perched in a nearby tree. He had notched an arrow and aimed it at the head of my new mentor. He pulled back the string and I knew I had seconds to act. I quickly slid open the glass on the carriage window and put my hand out. I directed my power at the center of the tree trunk and pushed. Flames shot out of my palm and into the trunk until th
e green, living wood burst into flames. The man in the tree screamed and he jumped from the high branch.

  Wylan was momentarily distracted, but he quickly refocused on the two men in front of him before they could notice his inattention. He mumbled some words that I did not understand and I watched as the earth opened up beneath the man’s feet and it buried the thief’s body up to the neck. Wylan repeated the words and a deep, vertical hole opened up under the feet of the man whose throat he squeezed. He dropped the man in the hole and I watched as the earth closed in to bury him up to his neck as well. Without glancing in my direction, Wylan disappeared into the trees and returned moments later carrying the third man by the seat of his pants. The man was filthy and he was only wearing one boot. His ankle looked painfully swollen. Wylan dropped him on his knees near his friends and then, with the tap of his cane, the earth opened and buried the third man too. Wylan looked up at the driver’s seat of the carriage and spoke. “Hand me down a lantern please, Savan.” Our driver did so without speaking a word. Wylan placed it in the center of the three men. “I will leave this light here so that passing horses and riders might see your heads and not run you down. I will send the town magistrate back with a shovel to fetch you in the morning. Have a restful night, gentlemen.”

  He climbed back into the carriage and tapped his staff on the roof shouting, “Drive on.” After a few moments he turned his head to face me. I could not see his face, but I knew the look would be disapproving. “I thought I told you to remain hidden.”

  “Yes, you did.” I answered, slightly abashed. “But you also told me to use common sense when I thought life, limb or property might be in jeopardy.”