Amelie: Wizards of White Haven

by Frances Howitt

  ‘Today, yes. We were fed one meal every day. They weren’t trying to be mean; it was enough for the ordinaries, but just wasn’t enough for us,’ Freddie added noticing Jim’s dark frown. Jim reached into his pack and withdrew a pair of brownish sticks. Freddie’s mouth instantly watered and he and Rupert eagerly took the dried meat offered.

  The miles passed as they walked or jogged beside the horse, gnawing on the rich meat as they went. The richness was just what they needed. They’d been working flat out and with little time to eat properly before they’d been captured, and had been given a single human sized ration daily since. They were animus, they needed almost double the quantity of food a regular man needed, particularly if they were working hard. It was lucky that nothing had been required of them physically over the last week. The lack of food hadn’t been disastrous, but both of them had lost weight. They had almost double the speed and strength, but only when fuelled.

  It was midmorning before they reached the farm. They were delighted that the reaping work they’d left unfinished had now been completed. Jim watched the very relieved reunion between the four men and realised just what a close-knit bunch a pack could be. Mrs Daily too seemed delighted they’d returned unharmed. While the men set-to work, he helped load the wagon and then curiously watched them operating the two machines in the barn. He’d been instructed to return to White Haven right away and since he wasn’t sure how closely he was being watched, or indeed how exactly they were keeping tabs on him, he decided to avoid using any spells.

  While the four men worked in the barn, Jim helped Mrs Daily with some of the heavy chores around the house. Using physical labour rather than magic was tiring and slow, but oddly satisfying. He chopped a large stack of firewood for her, and then went about the house exterior and even yard, mending what he could. He hadn’t heard the men come out of the barn and approach, but as he reached for the pail of nails it was suddenly moved within closer reach. He met Freddie’s gaze and his clear approval warmed Jim.

  ‘I’d hoped to get some of this done for her before we left,’ Freddie admitted noting the evidence of much hard work. ‘You’re not using magic then?’

  ‘No. Lord Aubrey’s wizard, Tobias, told me the local wizards are monitoring me. If I use my power they’ll be able to pinpoint my location and might wonder what I’m up to since I’ve not returned to White Haven yet. Apparently I make the Guild nervous,’ Jim added with a snort of derision. It was already dusk; it had taken the men all day to finish processing the crop. He went back to work replacing broken shingles on the house roof in the last of the remaining daylight. He only followed them inside when it had become too dark to see to do any more. Whilst well aware there were many more chores he could have done, he was satisfied with what he’d achieved in the time he’d had.

  Inside was a toasty haven. The yard door opened up directly on a large kitchen, dominated by a big solid table down the centre. An open staircase, leading up to the sleeping area, visually divided the room. The far half of the ground floor was set out as a cosy seating area and moth-eaten drapes had been drawn to shut out the cold winter draughts. The four men lounged around a blazing fire, looking as weary as he felt.

  ‘No, stay there Freddie,’ he murmured as Freddie moved to relinquish the only armchair to him. Jim moved past and sank to the floor on the big hearth mat with Johnny, his cold stiff hands out to the cheery flames.

  ‘Dinner’s ready,’ Mrs Daily announced not long after. ‘Have you all washed up, boys?’

  Jim noticed Freddie’s start and quick smile at the lady’s order, toned as it was for recalcitrant grubby teenagers. Jim took his turn scrubbing his hands clean with brush and harsh soap. He had to stop himself from automatically warming the cold water with a spell. He idly mused he was getting soft and lazy constantly using magic to do the small things that warmed or cleaned or fetched things for him. No wonder he was easy to keep tabs on.

  ‘You’re very quiet,’ Freddie ventured, noticing Jim was deep in thought and eating with the fast preoccupied air of a starved animus.

  ‘Am I? Sorry,’ Jim said glancing round the table and noticing all eyes were on him. His plate was nearly empty, ahead of everyone else, and that was saying something given he was sharing a table with four hungry wolves. ‘Just hungry and appreciating a good hot dinner,’ he added with a warm smile for their hostess.

  ‘Would you like some more stew? There’s plenty in the pot,’ Mrs Daily asked.

  ‘Are you sure you can spare it?’ Jim asked seriously.

  ‘Of course lad; it’s the least I can do after all your help today. You’ve certainly worked up a good appetite.’ She spooned a large dollop onto his plate but didn’t insist when he politely declined any more.

  ‘You’re right and this is hitting the spot,’ Jim said warmly and she beamed at him.

  ‘There’s water ready in the tub,’ she announced after dinner and gestured to the small copper bath sitting near the fire.

  ‘That’s most kind,’ Freddie responded. She smiled at him, said goodnight and disappeared upstairs into her room. It was a lot of effort to fill a tub with water from the well. Unfortunately the fire it sat beside was unlikely to have done much to warm it. They’d be lucky if it was even tepid. He and Rupert had been working for hours in the dust of the barn and then the mud of the field before their capture. They’d had no access to water other than for drinking for nearly a week since then. He was animus with a keen sense of smell and knew Rupert and he both stank. He dropped his fingers into the water and grimaced; it definitely wasn’t remotely warm. He glanced at Jim hopefully before remembering Jim had avoided using magic all day trying to avoid notice by other wizards. Damn.

  Jim noticed his glance and that his shoulders then drooped in resignation. ‘Hold up Freddie, I want to try something. All of you gather round. Now, Lord Aubrey’s wizard Tobias told me that the Edmoston Guild is monitoring me, since I haven’t yet sworn allegiance to it. I suspect every spell I do is recognisably mine; that it has an identifiable signature to it, much like a person’s scent.’ He noticed the men frowned but understood the parallel. Once they knew someone’s scent they could identify that person again blindfolded. They also understood his warning that the local wizards were taking note of all he did, and that it might then draw attention to them as well.

  ‘Each of you is animus, therefore you each have magic,’ Jim began. ‘I want to try using your magic rather than my own, which should confuse any watchers. To create the spell I’ll need to combine you into a merge. I may be able to hear your surface thoughts while I do this,’ he warned, wanting to be honest and give them a chance to guard their thoughts. ‘Are you each willing to give it a try?’ He waited for their individual agreement before getting them to rest their hands on his arms while he took Freddie’s hands directly. He’d linked to Freddie’s mind before, so quickly found his mental signature. The path to his magic was quite different from the way he would access another wizard’s, but he could see it as a rich glowing well of power deep within Freddie and was able to tap into it. Once the technique for seeking animus magic had been figured out, it was straightforward to add the other wolves. Something within him kept trying to take over control of the merge, especially since no-one else was a wizard and thus a primary magic wielder, and he slipped twice before he was able to fix Freddie in as the lead.

  ‘Freddie, think of the water in the tub. Desire it warm,’ he instructed aloud and guided Freddie in visualising it sufficiently clearly to craft a spell. ‘Ok, you can all let go now. I’m sure that worked,’ he added, chuckling to see Freddie’s clothes were now clean, the harsh soap she’d brought them had been transformed and the rough towel provided had become a large, thick, soft one. He could tell the men’s physical strength had been drained slightly by the spell, but more worryingly, he felt slightly less tired. Was it true then? Was he really leaching other’s magical power from them without even knowing? These men were animus, yet it hadn’t stopped his ability taking from them
. But what exactly was he taking? Just strength, or did he get a portion of their ability too? He didn’t know what might happen with the magic of four animus people in his system. But at least, as far as he understood it, he could only have taken magic from them during the couple of moments of lapsed concentration when he took control of the merge. Virtually nothing could have been transferred in that time surely? Besides, he’d merged with Amelie many times and she had the animus ability. He didn’t think he’d changed so far, so maybe it was just strength he gained. He retired to bed leaving the men to take turns soaking in the relaxing hot water.

  Early next morning they took their leave of Mrs Daily. Their wagon was now heavily laden and they’d had to leave the hopper full of grain and a dozen sacks behind which wouldn’t fit on the wagon. Jim had considered enlarging the wagon to accommodate the full load, but quickly realised the horse was going to struggle enough as it was, towing far more weight than they’d anticipated.

  Merchant Foster wasn’t in when they arrived at his holdings, but he didn’t need to be; the deal had already been agreed and his wife could tie up the final details. Knowing that they couldn’t fit everything in the wagon and wanting a mixed load of grain and vegetables, they offloaded enough grain to allow them to include the large sacks of potatoes, carrots, beetroot, parsnips and onions due them in payment for their labour. It was agreed that the balance of the grain left bagged at Mrs Daily’s farm and those they left at his house, would be delivered next time Foster could get to the school.

  They stopped for lunch around midday. Whilst the men didn’t need to stop, they’d realised the overburdened cart-horse badly needed a break. They chose the first thick stand of woodland they came to and were all glad to get some respite from the strength of the bitter wind.

  ‘I don’t like the looks of those clouds,’ Freddie remarked as he handed out travel rations.

  ‘Think we’re in for a storm?’ Jim asked, noticing they all seemed uneasy.

  ‘At the moment, the wind is taking it away from us,’ Freddie told him. ‘I hope our luck holds and it doesn’t change direction and bring it this way.’ The road they were travelling on was narrow and still to come was a steep twisting section through a series of hills and ravines. Beyond that they would have to ford a river. Whilst in normal conditions these were not more than a mild nuisance, in heavy rain, snow or storm conditions, they could become a serious hazard, especially when their horse was already struggling with every incline.

  By unspoken agreement, as soon as the horses had eaten they moved on again, having allowed a ten minute rest. Rupert and Johnny tied ropes to the wagon and where the terrain allowed, helped tow the wagon. This made it easier on the cart horse and she was then able to maintain a steadier pace.

  Suddenly they heard a yell. Freddie, who’d gone ahead to scout, came galloping back towards them. He held his reins in one hand; the other was covered in blood. Following him ran about a dozen men. To their left was heavy brush and a boulder field impassable for the wagon, but there was some open ground to their right before the roadway narrowed into a ravine. Suddenly more bandits began appearing over a ridge on their left and were now running to try to get behind them. Freddie veered to the open ground still at a gallop and his men got the wagon going after him as fast as the poor carthorse could manage. Jim stayed with them, his heart in his mouth, fleeing the ambush and hoping, as they were, that Freddie’s vigilance had forced the bandits to reveal themselves before they’d been able to close the trap completely.

  ‘Johnny, let’s trade places,’ Jim called, coming alongside. ‘I can protect the wagon if I’m on it,’ he added.

  Johnny nodded uncertainly for they were cantering off road and couldn’t exactly stop to change places. What did the wizard have in mind? But a minute later Jim had lined up his horse alongside the wagon and then leaped off it onto the sacks of grain. He quickly moved up to the driver’s seat and took the reins. Johnny wondered how the hell he was expected to get on Jim’s horse, even if it was obediently keeping pace close beside the wagon. He scrambled over the sacks to get alongside the horse, leapt on to the saddle and clung desperately as he slipped sideways. He got astride and grabbed the flapping reins. It was also tricky to catch the wildly bouncing stirrups and get his feet in. The horse didn’t spook throughout, or veer or buck to throw him off, which was sufficiently odd that he guessed Jim had somehow kept control of the horse for him. Suddenly the bay veered away from the dangerous proximity of the spinning wheels, clearly released from Jim’s control. Johnny hastily took charge, glad he now had a horse with which he could help defend his pack.

  Soon they had to slow to a trot as the ground became rougher and far too dangerous to traverse at speed, strewn as it was with rocks and large boulders. The men eyed the wagon anxiously; this was really no place to take a wagon, especially such a heavily laden one. They were all glad that the ground was largely frozen so they were not sinking in as they’d normally do in such a place. But with no cleared path it was rough going and all feared breaking a wheel or axle on the rocks.

  Looking back, Freddie noticed the bandits were still following, but were not bothering to try to halt them. Were they waiting for the inevitable failure of the wagon or was the route they were being forced to take going to become blocked? He said as much to Jim and noticed small signs of strain on his face. Was he doing something to help the wagon traverse this ground? Freddie decided Jim must be helping in some way for them to have even got this far; it couldn’t be luck, and whatever he was doing was sapping his strength.

  ‘Just find a route the horses can manage. Let me worry about the wagon,’ Jim told him.

  Freddie nodded and went to Rupert. ‘See if you can help tow again.’

  ‘But the horse doesn’t seem to be struggling so much now,’ Rupert said.

  ‘We don’t need to be burning our wizard out before the fight. Help him where you can. I’m going ahead to see what we face.’

  Rupert went to the wagon to pick up the lead rope and did indeed see strain on Jim’s face. Cursing himself for not noticing before, he hastily looped the rope around his horse’s chest so the animal could lean in and help tow. Johnny took the other side leaving Dustin to protect the rear. Jim nodded his thanks to them. There would be enough places where it would be too narrow to walk three abreast and the cart horse would have to manage alone. They had to spread the load and conserve all their strength as far and as often as possible. None of them knew what lay ahead and that threat weighed on their minds just as much as the bandits strolling along behind them.

  When Freddie returned quite quickly, it was clear he didn’t have good news.

  ‘There’s a cliff ahead,’ he told them heavily. ‘The only path down is a goat track. We could make it on foot, but I doubt the horses would want to try it. They’ve blocked us from going around; we’ve already entered the valley of the escarpment.’

  ‘Show me this path,’ Jim said grimly and Johnny brought him Nugget so they could trade places again, but at least now at a walk. The bandits were closing the distance between them slowly but steadily now. Many had wide grins, doubtless having seen Freddie go and return from his scouting. Jim hadn’t seen any bows, but all had some kind of weapon. Being a party of five mounted and well armed men had probably made the bandits cautious and kept them at a respectful distance, for the time being anyway. Jim was not a warrior; the thought of having to go into battle and spilling someone’s blood, turned his stomach. He trotted ahead with Freddie and surveyed the path down. As he’d feared, it was every bit as bad as Freddie had reported. Whilst the drop was only about forty feet down, it was steep and the path narrow. But as he walked out onto the first switchback an idea came to him. He had no idea if he could do it alone, but they were fresh out of options. Yes, he could cast some spells to kill, but those kinds of spells were very dark and had serious repercussions physically and mentally. They were also forbidden and he’d just gone to a lot of trouble to gain the goodwill of Lord Aubrey and tr
y to convince Tobias that he wasn’t a dangerous person. All that would be for nothing if he weren’t careful. As he was thinking, the wagon arrived, and not far behind the bandits began to assemble. Damned if he was going to just walk away and let these lawless bandits take the supplies his men had worked so hard for. He knew they would fight, even against these heavy odds, but he also knew they would all die for naught if he didn’t act quickly. He hurried back to them.

  ‘I’ve put a shield around the wagon so they can’t take it. It’ll also give you something solid to shelter behind or put at your back. I’m going to need a few minutes to try and make this goat track passable.’

  ‘We’ll hold them off,’ Freddie told him grimly.

  Jim turned away, paused, then continued on to the path; he couldn’t spare enough strength to shield the four men, as well as the wagon whilst creating a spell powerful enough to shape rock. It was simply too much. The men wouldn’t be expecting a shield anyway, but they were expecting him to give them a chance to escape. He felt like someone had painted a target on his back and he had to shake himself of the paralysing fear sufficiently to work out what would work. It helped that their wagon wasn’t a full sized one, so it didn’t need a wide turning circle. An arrow whizzed past his ear, striking his shield and he turned furiously. Without thinking, he threw a lance of flame back at the archer up on the ridge above and heard a terrible scream. Noise penetrated his musings, Freddie and his men were seriously outnumbered and already fighting hard. Whatever he did, he needed to hurry. He funnelled his anger and need and heard a deep boom. The ground under his feet vibrated as the rock cracked, split and reshaped itself to his will. Cutting a path into solid rock by magic alone was extremely difficult and sweat was soon dripping into his eyes. He walked down the new path as it emerged, continuing to direct its moulding a few steps in advance of his feet. He heard clip clopping and glanced around expecting attack. But it was only Nugget, rider-less, and following him away from the violence and noise behind them, the other horses came too.