Circle of Dreams_Prequel_The Herbmaster

by Linda McNabb

  The Herbmaster

  Circle of Dreams

  Prequel (short story)

  By Linda McNabb

  Copyright Linda McNabb 2015

  www.mcnabbnz.com

  Linda McNabb asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publishers.

  Cover art Mega11 / Chorazin3d

  Chapter One

  A high-pitched sound drifted through the trees and Zaine paused to listen. It stopped then repeated. No, it wasn’t any bird he knew, and he knew most of them. Even though he was only eight years old he had a good knowledge of most creatures that lived on the land as that was where he spent all his time.

  He heard it again and there was something about the sound that made him uneasy.

  Uncle Pretor came into sight and waved at Zaine to head back to the farm. Zaine shrugged and abandoned the sheep tracks he was following. This one was probably going to spend the winter in the forest. They hadn’t been out chasing sheep for long and Zaine wondered why his uncle was calling him in so soon. Usually they chased them for days at the end of summer to sell off as many as they could before winter’s bite settled on the land.

  His uncle turned and walked off as Zaine hurried through the trees to catch up. The sound came again as Zaine cleared the trees and looked down the hill towards the farm.

  He finally realised what the noise was and sighed heavily. He could see his aunt standing a short way from the house and her powerful voice was echoing across the fields with ease. What was worse was that it was him she was calling! She hardly ever came looking for him out on the farm, and it was the one good thing about working the fields or tending the animals for such a long day.

  It usually meant trouble if she wanted him back at the farmhouse. He caught up to his uncle and cast him a questioning glance as they both headed down the hill.

  “I’ve no idea what she wants,” Uncle Pretor said with a shrug. He looked as unenthusiastic as Zaine felt about the summons. “Did you fetch the water... stack the wood... start the fire?”

  Zane nodded. He had done all of his usual chores before leaving this morning.

  “I’m taking the boys to get medicine,” Aunt Tilly said in her brusque and sharp tone as they reached her.

  Pretor looked concerned and watched as the two boys walked slowly out of the house, holding their stomachs and looking sorry for themselves.

  “They ate the same as the rest of us yesterday, so it can’t be from bad food,” Pretor said, frowning as he helped his eldest son, Treno, up onto the front seat of the wagon.

  “It happens every summer. There has to be some sickness that only affects children,” Aunt Tilly said.

  Zane didn’t like to point out that he never got sick. In the Taitem household he wasn’t really considered to be part of the family. He was more like the unpaid hired-help.

  His aunt, who wasn’t his aunt, was normally the most uncaring person Zaine knew. But now she looked a little worried and he wondered if she was becoming a nice person.

  “And we lose dozens of days labour from it every year,” she added.

  Zaine realised that she hadn’t changed at all. She even saw her own children as a source of free labour, just not quite to the same extent as Zaine.

  If she was travelling to the next town to the apothecary she would be gone for a day at least. Zaine tried to hide the small smile that lifted the corner of his mouth.

  “We’ll be back in a few hours. It’s a long walk from town to see the herbmaster.”

  Zaine’s eyebrows shot up. He had heard rumours and tales about the old man who lived in the forest, and occasionally came into town. Zaine had only seen him from a distance but he looked completely mad. He had been muttering to himself and had stared at Zaine a little longer than seemed polite.

  “Really? Are you sure about that?” Pretor seemed as surprised as Zaine.

  “Yes, it would take too long to go the apothecary. I have heard that the herbmaster holds a healing day after a full moon.”

  Zaine thought back a few hours to when he had risen. Yes, there had been a large full moon hanging low in the sky as he drew water from the well.

  “Take care on the road then, dear,” Pretor said, stepping back as his youngest son, Waren, was settled next to Treno.

  Aunt Tilly climbed up as well then looked back down at them. “Zaine, get in the back.”

  Zaine shot a questioning look at his uncle. Pretor shrugged and Zaine climbed onto the back of the wagon. He knew better than to disobey his aunt. Perhaps Aunt Tilly wanted to make sure he wasn’t coming down with the same sickness as the boys?

  Zaine looked at Waren and Treno as the wagon lurched forward. He had seen them both racing about the garden late last night and there hadn’t been anything wrong with them then. He was willing to bet the boys were just trying to get out of the hard work needed on the farm at the end of summer.

  He tried to forget his niggling concern at being told to go with them and looked around as the wagon bounced along the road. He didn’t often get off the farm and it was nice to watch the fields go by without having to walk.

  They arrived at the town in less than ten minutes and Aunt Tilly pulled the wagon to a stop near the first few houses.

  “We’ll have to walk from here,” she said, getting down and waiting for the boys to join her. She offered no help and Zaine rushed around to offer a hand to the boys.

  “I can manage,” Treno said sourly, pushing Zaine’s hand away.

  Zaine stepped back and stood waiting. He wasn’t upset as he was used to being treated with such contempt. It was the only family he knew, but he also knew it wasn’t his family. Anyone could see that even the colour of his skin was completely different. He could blend in with the wheat in the field and his hair was so blond it was almost white. His aunt, uncle and the two boys were as dark-skinned as the deepest starless night.

  He trailed after the three of them as Aunt Tilly led the way down the narrow path into the forest. Zaine had never been down here before and he looked around in awe at the hundreds of plants and trees that crowded the edges of the path.

  He wished he could stop to look at them but as it was there was only enough time to pick several leaves and study them as he walked. The boys were taking their time, still clutching their stomachs.

  Several people came past them, heading back to town. One of them held a small glass bottle and hurried along as if their speed at delivering it was very important.

  A cottage came into view as they reached a small clearing. Zaine had expected a rundown, lean-to shack at the very most. Instead there was a well-tended small cottage with several windows and even a fence along the edge of the clearing. He doubted there were many large, wild creatures in the forest and the fence wasn’t likely to be enough to keep them out anyway. It looked to be purely decorative and it seemed odd in the middle of a forest.

  A long line of people stood milling around outside the cottage and they joined it. The line slowly moved forward as, one after another, the townsfolk received whatever medicine they had come for, and then hurried on their way. Nobody seemed keen to hang around any longer than they had to.

  “Yes, a fine chicken. It will do nicely for payment,” a voice said, and another man hurried off, glancing back as if wondering if anyone had recognised him.

  It seemed that visiting the herbmaster wasn’t something people wanted known! Then it was their turn to see him, and Zaine�
�s aunt pushed the two boys forward.

  “They’ve got a sickness of the stomach that comes back every summer’s end,” Aunt Tilly said, not even bothering to greet the man.

  The old man’s eyes flicked up at the two boys and glanced over at Zaine as well, then he looked up at Tilly. He looked like a kindly old man with a close-cropped white beard and heavily wrinkled face. He certainly didn’t look scary or mad.

  “Every summer’s end eh?” the herbmaster queried with a slight smile. “Just when the fields need to be cleared and the hay stacked?”

  Zaine knew that the old man didn’t believe the boys were sick at all but Aunt Tilly missed the hint of mocking in his voice and she nodded sternly.

  “We need them better soon to get the work done,” she said bluntly. “Can you heal them or not?”

  “One moment,” the herbmaster said, rummaging through a bag that stood by the cottage door. He pulled out a small clear bottle. It held a brown liquid and the old man unstopped the cork and sniffed at it. He wrinkled his nose in distaste and put the cork back.

  Treno and Waren exchanged a look that said they were considering confessing. The herbmaster handed Aunt Tilly the bottle and she tucked it in her pocket.

  “Two spoonfuls at breakfast if their stomachs hurt. I’m sure that just one dose will be enough. They won’t have any more problems,” the herbmaster said and Zaine was sure he saw a small smile as the old man turned away to close the bag.

  “As for payment...” Aunt Tilly hesitated.

  Zaine knew she hated paying for anything. They hadn’t brought any chickens and she was unlikely to offer coin.

  “Yes?” the herbmaster queried.

  Aunt Tilly grabbed hold of Zaine’s shirt and pulled him forward. “The boy can do chores for you for a day.”

  Zaine’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He was being offered as payment for the medicine? The herbmaster looked just as surprised and cleared his throat before replying.

  “I don’t know...”

  “One day - it’s my only offer,” Aunt Tilly had assumed the old man was bartering for more days. “But not today. He has sheep to catch. He owes us a jar of silver already and I’ll add the day’s labour to his debt.”

  The herbmaster looked hard at Zaine and nodded slowly. “Bring him back here first thing tomorrow. He will be home before dusk.”

  Aunt Tilly just nodded and gave Zaine a shove back the way they had come. Several more townsfolk had turned up and were waiting impatiently.

  Zaine let himself be pushed ahead of his aunt and the boys kept up on the long trek back through the forest. It seemed that their illness was vanishing even before their first dose of medicine was given.

  Chapter Two

  To Aunt Tilly’s surprise, no medicine was needed the next morning and the boys headed out to work with their father.

  Zaine finished his daily chores in the kitchen and hovered around waiting for his aunt to take him back to the forest. He was the one with an upset stomach today as he waited nervously.

  “Well, if you’ve finished you can go to the herbmaster,” Aunt Tilly said, tasting the soup she was making.

  “Go?” Zaine queried. “On my own?”

  “You don’t think I’m wasting half my day taking you there do you?”

  Aunt Tilly didn’t even look up from the soup. He had been dismissed and he turned to go. He briefly considered asking his uncle to take him, but he didn’t want Treno and Waren to think he was scared.

  He walked slowly towards town then veered off into the forest. Nobody else was on the track today as it wouldn’t be used again until the next full moon. He slowed his pace even more as his mind searched for some excuse or reason he could have for turning back. Even Aunt Tilly seemed a better option than a strange old man who lived in the forest.

  But no matter how slow his step, he did eventually reach the clearing where the herbmaster’s cottage stood. He paused at the edge of the trees and looked around. The door to the cottage stood open and a few seconds later the herbmaster came out and shut the door.

  “Ah, there you are. Just in time,” he said with a nod at Zaine.

  Zaine walked forward reluctantly, wondering what he would be expected to do. Sweep the cottage? Repair the roof? There didn’t appear to be much a young boy could help with.

  “Here, take this bag. We’ve got a long way to go. I hope you’ve got good shoes on,” the herbmaster said, holding out a canvas satchel with a long strap.

  “We’re going somewhere?” Zaine queried, glancing down at his bare feet.

  “I need more herbs, roots and flowers to replace those I used yesterday,” the old man replied, waiting patiently for Zaine to reach him.

  Zaine took the offered satchel and slung it over one shoulder.

  “I don’t know how to collect herbs,” he said with a shrug. Perhaps he would be sent back to the farm if he was of no use, although the idea of gathering plants sounded appealing.

  “I can show you,” the herbmaster said with a nod. “Follow me.”

  Zaine followed and the old man set quite a pace through the forest, weaving along animal tracks and up steep hills then down valleys. Zaine hadn’t known the forest was so big! They stopped dozens of times as the herbmaster dug for the roots of small plants, or showed Zaine the shapes of leaves that were good to collect. He also pointed out many plants to avoid.

  By the time they returned to the cottage the sun was peaking above the top of the clearing. Zaine couldn’t believe that it was only half way through the day. It felt like they had been walking for much longer. Even chasing sheep all day was nothing to the constant pace the old man had kept up.

  “And now we sort them,” Davyn said, pushing open the door and going in.

  Zaine followed and saw the inside of the cottage as his eyes adjusted to the dimness. Davyn had just lit a row of candles on a workbench and they cast a soft yellow light. It was a small single room with just a bed, a table and chairs, a fireplace and a long workbench. The latter was currently being piled high with the co’ntents of Davyn’s bag.

  He listened carefully as Davyn explained what to do then set to the task. The rest of the day went so quickly that Zaine was sorry when the bench was almost clear. He had enjoyed the quiet task and Davyn had whistled happy tunes off and on during the afternoon.

  Davyn looked up, and his whistling stopped as he stared through one of the small windows that looked out onto the clearing.

  A shadow passed in front of the window and Davyn hurried over and opened the door. Had one of the townspeople mistaken which day to come to seek help?

  Davyn went outside and pulled the door almost shut. Small snippets of conversation drifted through the gap in the door.

  “Not here...”

  “It’s just a young girl from the village doing some cleaning for me...”

  Zaine’s eyebrows rose. Why had the herbmaster lied about who was inside the cottage?

  Davyn muttered quietly at the door for several more seconds then opened the door and looked over at Zaine.

  “I just need to go out for a few minutes. Will you be okay here on your own?” He looked nervous and worried as his glance flicked back to the door.

  Zaine nodded. He had no desire to get back to the farm. If he could, he would help here every day.

  As the door opened again he caught a glimpse of the visitor. Whoever it was had a cloak of deep red velvet that was trimmed with white fur. They were definitely not from the local town.

  The old herbmaster slipped out the door and closed it softly. Zaine saw two figures move off across the clearing and then he lost sight of them.

  He turned back to his sorting. There wasn’t much left to do, and he slowed down so it would last longer. He reached out for an empty jar and frowned as a candle fell from the workbench. He didn’t think he had knocked it over, but he put the jar down and bent to pick up the candle.

  It had rolled right under a low shelf on the base of the workbench and Zaine quickly pushed his
arm under to retrieve it. It wouldn’t do for him to burn the cottage down as soon as the herbmaster had left him alone there!

  He felt the candle and was about to pull it out when his knuckle brushed against something else. He stretched out one finger to grab the other item and pulled them both out. The candle was still burning and Zaine stood it upright on the floor while he looked at the second object.

  It was a book. A dark-green, leather-bound book several hand spans tall and it looked ancient. A single gold design was embossed on the cover and Zaine stared at it.

  He guessed that it was part of the craft of being a herbmaster and he reached over to pick it up.

  As he touched the book he thought he heard someone let out a long-held sigh. He looked around the room guiltily. He wasn’t supposed to be touching the herbmaster’s belongings.

  There was nobody in the cottage and Zaine stood up and hurried to the window. No, Davyn and his red-cloaked friend were nowhere to be seen. He returned to the worktable and put the errant candle back in place then looked at the book again.

  Its pages were yellowed on the edges and when Zaine went to open it the cover remained stuck. No matter how hard he pulled, the cover did not budge.

  He looked at the gold design again, then touched it with one finger and felt a small tingle run up into his hand.

  He desperately wanted to see what was inside but he had no idea how to open it. He doubted he could ask the herbmaster as he wasn’t supposed to even be looking at it.

  His desire to return and help the old man grew, as for the first time in his life he could see a way off the farm. If he could learn enough about herbs and healing he could help the herbmaster. Surely it would eventually earn him a jar of silver to pay back Aunt Tilly, then he would be free!

  Footsteps outside made him jump and he knelt down to return the book to its hiding place.

  He ran his hand over the cover one more time then slipped it back under the shelf, just far enough so that he could still reach it.