The Young Magician tlt-1

by Michael Foster

  Ash stopped chewing and raised his eyebrows. ‘Ah,’ he said and made a slight chuckle. ‘Then I guess I did overreact. If you’d just said so at the start then none of this would have happened.’

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t quite forget so easily what you’ve done,’ Samuel stated, squeezing his fists by his sides.

  Ash seemed surprised by this and retaliated ferociously, holding his plate in one hand and shaking a finger of the other at Samuel’s nose. ‘Then listen to me, you little upstart!’ he said, now hissing with anger, spittle and pieces of half-chewed food flying free. ‘One word from me, and my men will cut you to pieces! I’m offering you a truce from the goodness of my black heart and if you don’t want to accept, I guarantee that you will be the one who comes out worse for wear!’

  Ash’s men began setting their meals aside on hearing his raised voice. They put their hands to their weapons and stood, watching closely. Samuel eyed them warily. He began readying his magic, summoning it into himself with a long silent breath. He felt he could take care of Ash here and now, but the armed men were another thing. They were not lazy and dishevelled like Rudderford’s sorry lot. Their boots were polished, their armour was firmly strapped, and their swords looked clean and sharp. They were Empire-trained and could probably cut him down before he had dealt with even half of them. He eyed them all, desperate for some solution to come to mind. Finally, with a great exhalation, Samuel released his power once again.

  ‘Very well,’ Samuel finally decided, raising his hands before him. ‘I will go.’ There was little else he could do.

  He carefully began moving back towards the door, which a pair of Rudderford’s servants began opening for him. Rudderford and his guests were all still drinking and talking merrily, as if they had not even noticed a thing. As Samuel edged his way outside into the hall, Ash gave him a wry smile.

  Full of bitter disappointment, Samuel sped back towards Lenham atop Jess. He damned himself once more for not killing Ash and he damned himself for running like a fool. He kept running over in his mind what would have happened if he had just killed Ash when he first had the chance, and what could have happened if he were not such a coward.

  Samuel was bothered little by people needing cures or advice over the next few days and so he spent as much time with Leila as he could, enjoying every moment with her. They had taken to sitting in an isolated glade much further up in the hills, even though the days were frosty and chilly, where they were less likely to be bothered by friends or strangers alike. Here the river was only a narrow stream, which coursed quick and shallow along its pebbly bed.

  Ash would, no doubt, be finished with his work in Gilgarry by now and have headed back to Cintar. Samuel had abandoned any fantasies of riding back there to try and kill the man. Every time he had tried to avenge his past, it had only brought him more trouble. Now, he had a future to think of. He had a chance to forget about all the woes of his past and begin anew, forging a new life here with Leila.

  As they sat arm in arm, the thought came to him that he would like to marry her as soon as possible. He would devise a plan to present to her father in order to gain his blessing. Manfred was the type who would only accept such an offer if it ensured his daughter and himself a prosperous and wealthy future. Samuel’s skills should not make that too difficult.

  ‘Do you love me, Samuel?’ Leila asked, interrupting his thoughts.

  Samuel looked deep into her eyes and took in every detail of her beautiful, perfect face. They sat like that, looking into each other, until Samuel had to pull her close and hug her fiercely.

  ‘Yes, of course. I do love you, Leila,’ he whispered to her, his eyes now closed tight. He could feel her soft body pressed against his and smell her hair in his face. ‘I love you so much. I could never be happier than I am at this moment with you. I can’t believe I have you, that I have found you at last.’

  Her arms pulled tighter and he ran his fingers over her head and through her long, dark hair. He kissed her ear, gently, and she pulled away, again looking into his face with tears in her eyes. Samuel was about to open his mouth to speak when she pressed a finger against his lips to keep him quiet. Then, she leaned forwards and replaced her finger with her lips and they fell back, kissing in a tight embrace upon the soft grass.

  ‘Would you marry me if you could?’ he asked her.

  ‘Yes, of course-if I could,’ she replied, looking up at him. Her full lips revealed a heavenly smile. Her raven hair caught beams of the sun.

  ‘But your father will only let you marry someone rich…someone influential…someone with powerful friends-with a house and a considerable estate. Isn’t that so?’

  ‘So he always says.’

  ‘What if I became that man? I could get some money very easily and we could buy some land. We could start a farm or any kind of business he pleases. What do you think of that?’

  Leila’s smile dropped away as she contemplated his suggestion. ‘I’m sure it would impress my father if you were all those things, but he also wants his daughter to marry into an influential family and you cannot create one of those with your magic. Can you?’

  Samuel made a sly smile. ‘Actually, it would take a little planning, but…’ then he laughed. ‘Seriously, I’m sure your father would overlook that if I could provide everything else he wanted. He’s been waiting long enough and he hasn’t found anyone suitable for you yet. You’re almost eighteen now. Soon, there’ll be only old men to marry. I’m sure we can convince him to our way. He must want you to be happy, after all.’

  ‘He’s been thinking of a few old merchants’ sons in Gilgarry and York. I’m sure they’re ghastly. I want to marry you.’

  ‘Next week-’ Samuel began, when something at the corner of his vision caught his eye. It had seemed like a murky shadow, lurking at the edge of Leila’s aura, but it fled immediately as he tried to focus upon it, dissolving like cleansed oil. Rubbing his eyes and blinking, he dismissed it as a figment of his imagination and returned to his previous thoughts. ‘Next week, I shall go to Merriwell,’ he continued. ‘I hear that there’s a silver mine there. If I can find a few new deposits for them, I’m sure they’ll pay me handsomely, and then we’ll have easily enough money to buy some land of our own.’

  ‘You can do that?’ she asked, moving around behind him. She circled her arms around his waist and leant her chin upon his warm shoulder.

  ‘Yes,’ Samuel replied. ‘Easily.’

  ‘What’s it like being a magician? Do you feel special?’

  Samuel thought for a moment. ‘Not really. It’s just what I do; what I am. It’s my skill-as a blacksmith or a baker has their skills, but I know I couldn’t be either of those. Instead, my skills are with magic. I can use it to do all sorts of things, but I accept it like anything else. It’s even rather mundane now. As I learn new things it is exciting, but once you’ve done anything enough times, it becomes matter-of-fact. It’s all I’ve practised for so long, I don’t know what else I could do with myself. I’d probably have to beg, or go back to being a stableboy.’

  ‘You were a stableboy!’ she laughed, but stopped herself abruptly. ‘What can you do with magic, Samuel?’ she asked, trying to undo her lack of tact. ‘Can you do anything you want?’

  ‘Who knows?’ Samuel responded. ‘We now know only a tiny fragment of the magic that was once known, but new discoveries are always being made. We have the power to heal; we can influence the rocks and the waters and the skies. Some can move objects. Perhaps in the future, we can make ourselves fly, or eradicate all disease and hardship, or even learn to live forever.’

  ‘But should you discover such things, Samuel?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ he asked, drawing her around to face him. The stream continued gurgling and washing by on its way.

  ‘Well, for all the power that the ancient peoples once had, for all the magic things they could do and for all the knowledge they once knew, what has happened to them? Where are they now? It cannot have served
them too well.’

  Samuel thought about this for the first time and realised that there was more than a speck of truth to her reasoning.

  ‘Do you know,’ Samuel began, musing half to himself, ‘someone once told me that I was going to kill the Emperor? Can you imagine that? Me?’

  Leila laughed softly. ‘That doesn’t sound like you, Samuel. How could you kill anyone?’

  ‘I guess we never know quite what we are capable of until the situation arises.’

  ‘I have another idea!’ she announced, changing the topic altogether. ‘If my father does not take your offer to marry me, we can simply run away together. We’ll see how he likes that!’

  ‘Do you mean it?’ Samuel asked. ‘I thought you wouldn’t dare upset your father?’

  ‘Of course! He can’t run my life forever. We’ve a wedding to plan and a family to begin! He’ll forgive us eventually. He’ll have to!’

  ‘There’s just one more thing. When I first became a magician they told me I wouldn’t be able to have children-even that I wouldn’t be able to fall in love.’

  ‘I’m sure that’s not true, Samuel,’ she told him. ‘You can see it’s not.’

  ‘Me, too. I mean, I’m sure it is true for everyone else, but just not me. For some reason, I can still feel everything just the same as I did before. Being a magician hasn’t changed me the way it should have at all.’

  ‘Then that’s wonderful, Samuel. Don’t question such fortune. It’s a wonderful gift you have, and I have you-what more could either of us ask for?’

  Samuel laughed and they hugged each other tightly once more. It was perhaps the happiest moment he had felt in all his life.

  Evening found Samuel sitting at the table, reading over his notes yet again as Mrs Down sewed and absent-mindedly hummed a soft tune. Simpson was out on the hill, watching for dogs that had been prowling these recent nights. Samuel had been unable to keep his mind away from the strange artefact Ash had unearthed-the Argum Stone-and he scoured through all his notes from top to bottom and back again, desperate for any further hint as to the object.

  ‘Spring of clarity,’ he read from his tiny jottings, damning himself for making such brief and cryptic comments.

  He kept flipping back to the diagram he had copied. He was sure it was the same object from Ash’s pit. Why else would the man work so hard at unearthing it? The Staff of Elders was the only known remaining artefact from the Age of the Ancients. Another such relic, whatever its power, would gain its owner considerable fortune or power. Whether Ash was working for Lord Jarrod or for the Circle or merely for himself, Samuel did not know, but any way it still smelt of a conspiracy. Shaking his head, Samuel finally closed his journal and thanked his stars he would not be returning to Cintar to involve himself in such a mess.

  A knock came at the door and Samuel looked up, suddenly aware of another magician standing just outside the house. He should have felt the presence earlier, but he had been consumed in his notes and he damned himself for his mistake. A magician at his door in this part of the world could only signal misfortune.

  Mrs Down put her bundle carefully on the table and pushed back her chair. ‘How strange for someone to call at such an hour.’

  ‘Don’t move,’ Samuel ordered and Mrs Down was stopped by the tone in his voice. ‘Go into your room and don’t make a sound unless I call for you,’ he instructed as he stood and carefully approached the door. Mrs Down hurried into her room and closed the door softy behind her without question.

  There was definitely a magician standing just outside the door. Whoever it was, he was scanning the room with magic. Samuel could see the spell come floating across the room heedless of his presence. He crept up to the door and opened it wide.

  ‘Yes?’ he asked.

  The mage was dressed in all black in the manner of the Order, with a thin cloak that hung down to his knees wrapped tightly around him. He appeared somewhat startled to have Samuel suddenly standing before him and had obviously been absorbed in his spell work.

  ‘I’m looking for the magician,’ he said humourlessly, quickly recovering his wits. ‘Where is he?’

  Samuel felt a spell form. He recognised the spell from his own short experience with mind control, and quickly blocked it before it could take hold. The magician’s face showed puzzlement, then realisation and, lightning fast, a blade came up from under his cloak.

  It was now Samuel’s turn to be surprised and he fell onto his backside as he desperately evaded the attack. The magician stepped into the house after him and Samuel spelled a barrier between them that ran from wall to wall.

  The mage stopped short and put his hands up to feel the invisible barrier. He was thoughtful for a moment; then he stepped back and began channelling power with his hands held forth in the way of the Fourth Matrix. Magic burst forth and Samuel could feel the weaves of his barrier screaming as they were torn apart. He clambered to his feet before too much damage could be done and hurled himself at the mage, dropping his spell at the last instant and crashing into the man. Glinting steel skittered across the floor as they both tumbled outside and onto the ground. Before either could act, they both sprang away from each other and onto their feet, each surrounding themselves with a flurry of shielding spells and protections. Samuel could see at once that the magician’s defences were powerful and expertly constructed, making his own efforts seem outright amateurish in comparison. The spells would protect him from almost all direct magical assault and Samuel took quick mental note as to their design.

  Realising his own shields would not outlast his opponent’s, Samuel sought inside himself for the raging magic he had used to slay the dark-skinned brigands. For some reason, it would not come, no matter how he beckoned or reached for it. ‘What good is such magic if it only comes when it chooses?’ Samuel thought to himself darkly.

  The other magician had not been entirely idle in these few moments and had summoned himself a sizeable reservoir of energy, ready to begin his attacks.

  The stars shone clearly above in the moonless night sky and the light from within the house cast the men in a ghoulish yellow light, one half of their faces lit, the other swathed in perfect darkness. As the magician took a cautious step, Samuel could feel his defences being tested and measured, and so he threw out a hissing sphere of magic at the man before his spells could be scrutinised too closely.

  The magician prepared himself to absorb the blow by strengthening his shielding spells to his front, but was clearly surprised when Samuel’s attack struck with only a flash of light. He only realised the ruse as Samuel’s arms snaked in from behind, pushing slowly through his spells and locking around his neck. The magician was not so easily caught, however and snapped forward at the waist, tossing Samuel over his shoulder and onto the ground. Samuel’s breath was knocked from him and the mage, quick as an eel, wriggled free and away. The man seemed to be as experienced with combat as he was with magic, which was unusual for any mage.

  Samuel was back on his feet in a moment, but had to quickly defend himself as a stream of knives came whistling towards him, flying out of the magician’s hands in a flurry. Each one was sheathed in a spell and carried by magic. Samuel formed the Harmony Stance and made the Second Matrix with his fingers and his shielding spells bloomed back into life. The knives struck in a volley, one after another, and were deflected onto the earth with a spray of silver sparks. Each one took a chunk out of Samuel’s defences, but none made it through.

  Barely a moment after the last blade had been parried, Samuel twisted into Forward Stance and shot his arms out into the butterfly position. His spell ignited with a flash, sending a blast of heat and wind roaring at the other mage, two spells intertwined as one. The magician was engulfed in the sudden roaring bonfire that sprang up all around him. Samuel’s head buzzed and felt light from the sudden flow of power, but he kept shoving magic into the spell as fast as he could, making it burn hotter and higher.

  It was a powerful spell, to say the least, but
still nothing like the magic he had summoned against the bandits. The effort of summoning already had him dripping with sweat and shaking with exertion after only brief moments. Still, this fire spell was of masterful proportion-much greater than he could ever have managed in the past and much greater than even he had expected. His teachers would be impressed with his abilities if they knew-perhaps even horrified. Soddan had been right in some ways at least.

  Samuel let his spell burn a while longer before allowing it to cease and the roaring flames dissipated as if blown away by the wind. He looked for the other magician, but could see nothing remaining in the darkness. The bright light of the flames had scarred his vision, leaving him trying to blink away the coloured stars in his eyes and adjust to the darkness once more. Even his magician’s sight could not help, as the scene was a twisted melee of spent magic.

  He took the moment to catch his breath and rub his salty sweat from his eyes. Slowly, a darker blot in the blackness became apparent. The magician was squatting down on the ground with his charred cloak smoking behind him. He was clutching at his face but, surprisingly, he was still alive.

  Samuel carefully stepped closer.

  ‘You are powerful,’ the man rasped through his hand. He had the accent of a northerner, sounding eerily similar to Eric Pot. ‘I salute you. I thought I was the best, but I see now it was a mistake to underestimate you. I could not sense your power, so I was unprepared for such a wonderful spell. Tell me, how did you manage to hide your presence so well?’

  ‘That’s a secret I’m not so willing to share,’ Samuel said. He formed a spell to scry the magician’s mind, but the man was well guarded. He needed some kind of distraction. ‘Get him! Now!’ Samuel commanded out loud, and a hundred armed men came charging in upon the mage from out of the grass. The air was filled with a roaring and clamorous noise as they bore down upon him with their swords raised.

  The mage was a little startled as he strengthened his defences and Samuel caught the few flashing memories that came tumbling out.