The Mage's Daughter 2: Book Two: Enlightenment

by LeRoy Clary

“Perhaps your strange manner of dress, your hesitation to enter, and good luck with my guess,” he said with a warm smile. “And maybe I overheard a few words through the open window.”

  Prin muttered, “Not much luck to it, if you ask me.”

  But he led the way inside and stood aside with a sweeping motion of his arm. She found a small, but comfortable room with seating on three walls and a huge table dominating the center, covered in layers of papers, parchments, and manuscripts. Quills and ink bottles were spread around the table for convenience. At the far end of the table sat a rocking chair with a view of the front steps and the street outside through the window that was partially open. A soft breeze filled the room, as well as a murmur of sound from outside.

  He must have watched and listened for a while before going to the door. Prin said, “You must be Chalmers.”

  He shook her hand formally as if she was an adult, then motioned to a chair as he reached for Sara’s hand. “And you must have spoken to someone about me. A protector?”

  Sara sat next to Prin. “We did. Our father has need of space.”

  “Should I wait to meet with him?” Chalmers asked, not offended, but eager to talk as are all dealing with sales and rentals.

  “We will do the initial investigation, if we buy or not. I’d like to tell you what he has in Evelyn because we’re looking for something similar,” Sara said.

  Chalmers hesitated. “I’m not familiar with that city.”

  “Across the sea and then a trip of several days by horseback. But no matter, he is a spice merchant and has need of both a place to live and a warehouse.” Sara sat back and waited.

  “So, I have the opportunity for two transactions, today. Very nice. Detail his needs, and I’ll try to find what might fit his requirements.”

  Sara said, “I fear I misled you. At home, he has a small warehouse about fifty paces long, and above it is the living quarters. It should be a secure building in a part of the city where others keep valuables, so there are protection and safety for his goods.”

  “So, your father’s salt is not pilfered?” Chalmers smirked.

  Sara turned slowly to face him as a lion might do before springing onto an antelope. “Sir, are you aware that there are spices worth more than their equal weight in silver? Or that a few spices sell for as much as the same weight of gold, and then there are the very rare spices worth even more. Dealing in those spices is costly. By the time they are located, harvested, processed, and shipped across oceans the expenses soar, as do the prices.”

  Chalmers’ face paled.

  Prin said smugly, “There you go telling people to rob us again, Sara. Just let him think there’s salt in the warehouse, and we won’t have to hire as many guards.”

  “Fifty paces long, you said? And secure?”

  “With living quarters. My father likes to sleep where his wealth is,” Sara said after glaring at Prin as if she was angry at her.

  “In a beautiful area of town,” Prin added.

  “Rent or buy?”

  “Yes,” Prin said before Sara could answer. “We will consider either if the deal is right, but of course, we’ll have to find what we want at a bargain price, or we have to run it past our father.”

  “I don’t have exactly what you’re looking for, but if you’re up to a little renovation, there is a building that might fill your needs. There is another also, and they are close to each other.”

  They agreed to look, and they followed the portly man out onto the street in the direction of the steeple again. Prin noted the difference in the dress and manner of the people they passed on the streets, from those nearer the waterfront. More of the people on the street wore clothing to display their wealth, and the paving stones were swept clean by others, and servants rushed about performing their master’s tasks. Trees lined both sides of the streets, so the people didn’t have to walk in the harsh sun, and she had no doubt that in winter the leaves would fall off and allow the weak sun to warm them.

  However, the buildings didn’t impress her. She saw no decoration, no ornate doors, and nothing to tell one building from another. The stone walls climbed the heights of two stories, but the lower part of the walls had no windows.

  Chalmers noticed Sara’s interest. He said, “I’m not sure what you’re used to in Evelyn, but here in Indore, our wealth and status is displayed inside our homes and buildings.”

  “Then how do I know one from another?” Sara asked.

  “How does a thief? He might enter a poor house instead of wealthy, but will not know until inside. Of course, these streets, and the people on them do tell of wealth, so all is not hidden.”

  “We are not looking for a wealthy neighborhood,” Prin said.

  He reached a nondescript building and held the door open for them to enter. Outside it appeared like most other buildings in the area, but inside was an entry of exotic, contrasting woods, walls of sandalwood, and ceilings of carved plaster. The place reeked of expensive scents. The furniture, carvings, statues, and paintings in sight were worth more than an entire village in Wren.

  Sara said, “My father is a businessman. He is not interested in impressing visitors.”

  Chalmers was not put off in the least. He pulled the door closed behind them and waved an arm in the direction he wanted to go. They walked in silence, for two blocks. He paused at a solid oak door and used a key on a rusted lock the size of his palm. “I think you might like this.” He threw the door open, and light flooded the inside.

  The floor was a pale gray stone, the room was long and narrow, only five or six paces wide, but over fifty long, Prin guessed. The ceiling was open to the blackened beams of the two-story roof. It had the musty smell of a building not in use over time, as well as the faint scent of smoke. A few pigeons circled high up, and a hole in the roof told where they had entered.

  Another door stood at the far end, a sturdy double door that opened the full width of the room. Sara said, “No living quarters?”

  “None, but the building is as secure as a bank. It was recently used to store carriages, and at this end, a second story once stood. Unfortunately, it burned several years ago, but the stone walls were not harmed, the roof is solid, and most of the smell of the fire has dissipated.”

  “You will rent or sell it?” Sara asked.

  “I prefer to rent. You provide whatever improvements you wish, and when you leave, I own a more expensive building. We both win.”

  “Do you have others?” Prin asked, rolling her eyes.

  “Not as large, nor where the city patrols as heavily, both night and day, but yes.”

  Sara said, “The roof leaks and must be repaired, I see no well, and we would have to build the improvements and then abandon them for a loss. Perhaps you should pay us to move here instead of us paying you?”

  Prin liked the change in Sara’s attitude. She’d taken the warning from the soldier and now used it. Chalmers told her a price for renting the space—an opening gambit.

  Sara said, “That is more than I would pay a year for this hollow building.” But she was dealing with a professional, and she probably knew he would counter.

  He said, “Unless you wish a much smaller space, this is it, and you've already heard my best deal. I believe another merchant is hoping to rent it, but I’m a fair man and will rent to the first with a deposit. Nonrefundable, of course.”

  Sara turned to Prin. “I like the other building we saw this morning, and we can buy it at a fair price, far cheaper than renting from this scoundrel who is trying to rob two girls new to his city.”

  Prin knew the game, too. She said as if considering two options, “The noise from the harbor was louder in that one, but I agree. It is a better bargain, and we would own it.”

  “The walls are thicker, too,” Sara said. “You wouldn’t hear anything of the harbor noise inside them. Wait here a moment, I need to check something.”

  Chalmers said, “Another building? What other building?”

  Prin sh
rugged and watched the pigeons circling while keeping an eye on Sara. She stood just outside the door and rummaged into her backpack until she pulled the sheet of paper she’d stolen from the billboard. She unfolded it, studied it as if there was something important and private written on it, then returned to them, stuffing the paper back inside as she walked.

  “Come Prin,” she said. Then she reached out to shake Chalmers’s hand in farewell. “Thank you for taking the time to show this to us this . . . sad excuse for a building. Perhaps another time we can strike a deal.”

  “Wait, you mentioned you might be willing to purchase. What are you prepared to pay?”

  “For this?” Sara smirked, and her eyes went to the hole in the roof and the blackened beams.

  Chalmers said in a smooth, oily tone, “You have to admit it has potential, and if you use your imagination, it fulfills all your requirements.”

  “The price?” Sara asked.

  He told her, and Sara reached out and took Prin’s hand and again started for the door.

  Chalmers held up his hand. “Wait. I’m sorry, I misstated the price, thinking this was another property. With the problems with the roof and all, well, what do you say we cut the price in half? By the way, there is a good well out back, satisfying one of your concerns, and also a small private garden.”

  Prin had already calculated that the price was less than one of the two large gold coins she had in her purse. Now it was less than half that coin, and she had another just like it, and several smaller gold ones. For the other half of the coin, they could hire workmen to rebuild the loft area and still have enough left to live on for more than a year without touching the other coins.

  “We’ll take it,” Prin heard herself say. “Can you draw up the papers and escort us to a bank?”

  Chalmers suddenly broke into a smile. “Where do you have an account?”

  “Nowhere, but I need a bank to change this into smaller coins so we can pay you.” She held one of the large coins up.

  His expression froze. “Leaping Lords and Dancing Goddesses, where did you get that?”

  “From my father this morning. His spice, or should I say salt business has been doing well in Indore. He said for us to find a place and buy it because he is far too busy buying and selling more salt.”

  Chalmers turned to Sara after the younger girl’s comments. She said mildly, “A little girl like her needs to do family chores to learn the spice business. That way, she can strike a deal when she is older and negotiate with buyers and sellers. At least, that’s what our father says. Can we go to the bank, now?”

  “I have a feeling your sister will someday own Indore.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Once the large gold coin had been exchanged for a fist full of smaller ones, they settled with Chalmers, and he provided a deed that the bank agreed to hold for them—for a small fee. Everything the bank did was for a small fee. Even the changing of the large gold coin to smaller ones entitled the bank to keep a small portion. Prin didn’t dare ask for a mug of water.

  Leaving the bank, they left Chalmers and made their way back to their new building, getting lost in the confusing maze of roads briefly. With the help of the steeple as their guide, they quickly found their way. Sara said, “Maybe we should have looked at more buildings before buying this one.”

  “Why? It has all we wanted and more.”

  “Really? The roof leaks so bad birds fly in and out,” Sara complained.

  Prin laughed. “But the building’s ours. We own it. You and me. The location is in the right part of the city, there’s plenty of space, and we have money left over to do what we want with it.”

  Sara didn’t join in the laughter. She said, “Where will we sleep tonight? An inn where the proprietor will report us to any passing mage in the morning?”

  “We will sleep in our new home,” Prin answered, skipping along. “The apple family this morning said the bazaar down by the waterfront is the small one. Why don’t we go to the bigger bazaar and buy some things we need?”

  “Such as?”

  “Oh, cheer up, Sara. Such as blankets to soften that stone floor tonight.” Prin carried her satchel and two keys for the lock on the door. However, she also intended to buy new locks for both doors. No telling how many other keys existed for the locks that looked older than her. Or Sara. Or Chalmers.

  As they turned onto their street, Prin paused and admired their building again. It blended in with the others, had solid stone construction, and was in a clean part of town. There were only two doors, and no windows were on the ground floor—for security they’d been told. Near the top were small windows, dozens of them, built to allow light to enter.

  Once inside, she searched somewhere to place the satchel and settled for leaving it beside a post near the door, where any thief couldn’t help but find it. But she removed the valuables and placed them under a small pile of rubble in one corner where she hoped they would be hidden and secure. Most thieves will not look in rubble for valuables, or so she hoped, but they will snatch and run with what they find first.

  When she was convinced the valuables were out of sight, Prin said, “Things are going too well. We escaped Wren and the assassins, and yes, we changed our appearances, but it has been too easy, or we’ve been lucky.”

  Sara pulled to a stop, her hands holding more trash to throw in the corner. “They’ll still come. Maybe. It’s a long way from Wren to Indore, and a rugged mountain pass to cross.”

  “Or they are already here,” Prin continued. “They have killed three men, two high-ranking royals, so far, and they are attempting to overthrow the king. A few days of travel aren’t going to stop them. Do you know any spells that might help us?”

  Sara chuckled. “If you want them to like us better, I know a pretty good love charm. I know how to use my arrows that won’t miss, but even those were enchanted by another. I can read, write, and work numbers, but in my small village, there was nobody to teach me sorcery, so I know only a little more magic than you.”

  “But you’re older,” Prin protested.

  “Twenty. You’re twelve or whatever, but I didn’t even know I had any powers until a few years ago, so we’re not all that far apart in casting spells and magic of any sort.”

  Prin kicked more trash in the direction of the growing pile. “We need help. I was hoping you knew a spell or two that would help hide us or something. Maybe we can hire a local sorceress to help us, and we can buy some spells from here.”

  “You know what I think?” Sara said. “I think we definitely need a broom to clean this place up.”

  “And food.”

  “Candles. And chairs.”

  The requirements quickly grew into a list far more than they could possibly carry back to the building in ten trips. Both knew the list would continue to get longer, and they laughed as more items were added.

  Walking in the general direction of where they thought the Bazaar might lay, they asked directions and turned without getting lost. A raven flew down and landed on a branch in front of them. After they had walked past, the bird flew ahead of them again and landed. It twisted and cocked its head as it watched. Prin remembered the crow that had scolded her when she pronounced her letters wrong.

  Twenty blocks later they heard voices singing, music played by different instruments, and other noises generated by a crowd. They entered a square far larger than the other down by the waterfront, filled with throngs of buyers and sellers.

  Sara said, “How can so many people be in one place?”

  “Don’t worry. We don’t want to talk to them all, we want to find only a few that can help us.”

  “How will we find the right ones?”

  “We shop.” Prin took the lead. She stepped up to a woman at a stall who fried small strips of spiced meat on a tiny stove. By habit, Prin checked the fire and found it wanting. The small fire put too much heat in one place on the pan, but she said nothing. Instead, she asked for two strips of meat for each of t
hem.

  As the cheerful woman handed the meat to her, Prin said, “My father needs some carpentry work done. He needs roofing and a whole room built. Do you know anyone?”

  “I don’t do that, but there is a man one aisle over who sells tools and he might.”

  They found the correct stall after only getting lost once. A man of perhaps thirty greeted them. “I am Eldemire, but my friends call me El. I understand that you might need roofing and other construction work?”

  So, the woman who sold them the spicy meat had already sent word ahead of their interest, probably in return for a small commission. Instead of getting angry, Prin admired the action and took a small step back, allowing Sara to open the negotiations.

  El was tall, muscular, and his hair flowed from front to back in dark waves. Prin watched Sara watch him. She seemed as fascinated by El as he was for her. Prin turned her attention to El, finding his thick features, suntanned skin, and white teeth too perfect. He was the sort of man that demanded women pay him attention.

  Prin nudged Sara. She finally took the cue. She introduced them and said, “Our father has purchased an empty warehouse near the big steeple over there,” she pointed.

  He nodded, “I know that neighborhood, of course, and generally where the warehouse is.”

  She continued, “The inside had a fire, years ago, and burned the inside, but we want a set of rooms to live there. Father is a spice merchant and will often be traveling, but wants to be where he can quickly look to see his inventory and make trades.”

  El said, “I assume it’s one of those long, narrow warehouses they favor near the steeple. What were your thoughts?”

  Sara crossed her arms over her chest and closed her eyes for a brief time, probably picturing her idea. She glanced at Prin, silently giving her permission to express her views, especially since she was paying for it.

  When Prin didn’t respond, Sara said, “We talked about a loft, a raised area with two sleeping rooms, a kitchen, gathering room, and a way to heat it in winter.”

  Prin said, “Windows. Can we add them? Ones that open?”