Magician In Training (Power of Poses Book 1)

by Guy Antibes

  The prince drained yet another cup of wine and walked over to her with two cups, wine sloshing over the rims, staining his clothes.

  “Oho!” he slurred. The prince must have had a few drinks before she had arrived to be drunk so soon. “You have to drink with me. I command it!” He bent over and put one of the cups of wine on the table and then he just bowled over and lay there.

  The prince’s two friends guffawed. “Never was much at holding his cups. His cups!” They raised their wine and emptied their goblets. The women laughed and did the same.

  Now, it appeared, Valanna, alone, remained sober. She looked at the prince, who didn’t stir and wondered if something bad had happened, but then she heard a snore. Looking around the room, she spotted Asem, peeking behind a curtain. He raised an eyebrow, pointing his chin at the slumbering prince, and then disappeared.

  Although her stomach rebelled, she filled her stomach with the pastries until she began to feel sick and looked at the others, engaged in activities that she had expected to happen to her. She put her finger down her mouth and vomited all over Prince Nez.

  “I am ill,” she said to the others who ignored her, but there were two serving women in the room. One came to her side and helped her up. “Please help me to my rooms.”

  Once outside the dining room, she leaned with relief on the woman’s shoulder. “I am sorry.”

  “No need to feel sorry. I’m glad that it happened,” the woman said. It was not the maid who helped dress her. “The Prince is not a nice person.” The woman gasped and put her hand to her mouth. “Please forget that I said that.”

  Valanna found that she could smile, after all. “I will.” She stopped at a tap on her shoulder.

  “I will take her the rest of the way,” Asem said, picking up Valanna. “Return to the dinner and see to the Prince. He will need a clean set of clothes to wake up in. Hurry, before he wakes.”

  The woman curtseyed and genuflected. “I will, Prince Asem.”

  Asem chuckled silently as he watched the servant scurry away. “Good work. Can I put you down now?”

  Valanna nodded.

  “Pack a few things. I’m taking you with me to Santasia. You can recognize Bluntwithe and I have only a cursory description of the boy. That is the excuse I used in the message that will be delivered to King Marom tomorrow, long after we sail tonight.”

  The next few hours passed like the fury of a summer storm. She packed none of the finery that Prince Nez had delivered to her rooms. A woman servant of Asem’s had brought a cloak to wrap her in as she spirited Valanna out of the castle and on a simple cart to the docks.

  A ship, sleek and triple-masted, bobbed on the current of the Pusuun River. The servant brought Valanna’s things and then returned for her own. Valanna hadn’t seen Asem when she had been taken down below decks to a modest cabin with two bunks.

  “I will be your maid,” the woman said.

  Valanna didn’t know how to reply. She heard shouts and footsteps on the decks as it made ready to set sail. Her stomach flopped just a bit when the ship left the dock and began to move out into the river. She jumped at a knock on the door. The woman opened it and threw her arms around Asem.

  “My love,” she said. “How refreshing it is to leave Balbaam and the court.”

  Asem moved in and shut the door. “There are eyes and ears that we don’t want to know you are with me,” he said. He turned to Valanna. “I would like to introduce you to my second wife, Kulara, the true love of my life.”

  Valanna furrowed her brow. “Am I to be the maid, after all?”

  The pair laughed. “No. You are also the excuse for bringing another woman on board. I sincerely hope no one knows that Kulara is up from the Arid Lands. You are companions of equal status—“

  “Not quite equal,” Kulara said.

  Asem smiled. He looked more relaxed than he ever had around Valanna. “No, not quite equal. Feel free to establish whatever relationship comes naturally. You are not a captive, but a freed prisoner. Am I right?”

  Valanna nodded her head. “I am afraid it is, if you say so.”

  “Good. Kulara is a magician as well. She taught me a few important poses, as well you know.”

  Valanna was very grateful to her if she taught the sleeping spell that caught Prince Nez. “We really are going to Santasia?”

  “Overland through Colcan, It will be a lengthy journey, I’m afraid, but we need to first go to the city of Bitrium to know what lies ahead of us in Espozia.”

  ~~~

  Chapter Nineteen

  TRAK BLINKED THE SLEEP OUT OF HIS EYES. He looked around at the cell. The bed was more like a shelf with a thin pad. Whatever they used to put him to sleep had been effective. He ruffled his hair and shook his head. A window, mounted high in the wall, told him that it was light outside, but he didn’t know the precise time.

  A pitcher of water, a cup and a small bowl of cut fruit sat on a table. It looked like he might not be tortured. He took a sniff at the water. If there was a pose that would remove poisons, he didn’t know it.

  Trak sighed. If they wanted to kill him, he would already be dead. He poured a cup of water and took the bowl of fruit and sat back on his bed and filled his stomach with the meager fare. He didn’t know any poses suitable for breaking out of the prison intact. He could call down fire and wind and rain, but none of those would be a good idea.

  Perhaps the Magicians Guild didn’t torture their captives into working for them. Had they captured Honor? He shook his head. It would be best not to worry about anything right now until he knew more. He stood and stretched and then went through his sword forms. Midway through staff forms, he stopped as someone fiddled with keys outside his cell.

  “We won’t put you to sleep, if you promise not to attack us,” a voice said from beyond the door.

  Trak realized he could have reduced the wood in the door to pulp, but shrugged his shoulders, too late for that now. He wished he had practiced the shield spell. Honor said that one needed much practice to master it. “I promise.”

  The door opened. Four magicians stood in poses, wearing their bright yellow robes. He recognized it as a sleeping pose. All they had to do was say the words of power and he’d be under again before he could do anything. He sighed and walked out of his cell.

  “Come with us. Don’t try anything. One of us will always be prepared to put you under. We have no intention of inflicting any physical harm.”

  No physical harm? What about mental harm, eh? Trak thought as two of the magicians led him up the narrow stairway leading out of the dungeons, or whatever they were. They walked up another flight of wider stairs and entered into a busy hallway. Robes mostly of yellow, but a few with more colors went this way and that way about their business. A few stopped to consider Trak’s escorts, but then rushed on their way.

  It seemed like a beehive to Trak. There were men and women beneath the robes. The procession stopped in front of a set of double doors. They were more ornate than the relatively plainly decorated corridors that he had already passed. They both arced to a point about ten feet high. One of the magicians opened a side and magician behind Trak pushed him forward.

  Now he might learn something useful, he thought as he stood in front of a panel of magicians. Their robes were purple, red, light blue and dark blue. No yellow robes for these magicians. Sunlight plunged down from windows in the roof, throwing everything into stark relief. Trak couldn’t make out any of the faces of the panel.

  He heard the scraping of a chair behind him.

  “Sit,” the central figure said, a man in dark purple.

  He felt pressure on his shoulders and sat. He looked around the circular room. The ceiling was one of the domes that made up the profile of the Magician’s Guildhall. He never would have guessed that glass made up most of the dome.

  “Now you will be absorbed into the Guild.”

  “Absorbed?” Trak thought that he misunderstood the Santasian word.

  “Absorbe
d,” the man said in Pestlan.

  “How?”

  “A spell, of course. Not one of the sixty-seven poses that Honor Fidelia taught you.”

  How would he know how many spells Honor had taught him?

  The man nodded to the others in the panel and they lifted off their hoods.

  In a dark scarlet robe stood Honor.

  Trak stood up from his seat. “Why?” He looked at Honor as the panel assumed a pose he had never seen and said the word ‘Abbo’.

  His mind went blank.

  ~

  Trak blinked in the sunlight streaming into the room. He lay on a padded table, not a bed, and wore the yellow robe of a worker in the guild. He didn’t understand the ranking, but he did smile at those standing around him. He vaguely remembered someone instructing him on how important the Magicians Guild impacted his life and future.

  “Ah, you have become aware,” a voice said from behind him. A woman in a scarlet robe stood looking at Trak intently. Two yellow robed magicians and a light blue magician stood behind her.

  “What is your name?”

  “Trak Bluntwithe.”

  “To whom do you belong?”

  Trak furrowed his brow, confused, but then he knew the answer. “To the Guild, of course.”

  “Do you remember your poses?”

  A smile came to Trak’s face. Poses. He felt that the poses he knew were the most precious nuggets of knowledge he had ever possessed. “I do. Can I show you?”

  The woman looked rather shocked. “In a moment. Who am I?”

  He blinked, again. “I don’t know. You seem familiar, but I…” he just shook his head.

  “I will be your guide to great things in the Guild.”

  Trak rose up from the table and put his hand to his forehead. His head began to hurt and he tried to shake the pain away. “My head.”

  “You have just been absorbed into the Guild. It will hurt for a few more weeks, but after your mind is used to your absorption, you head will never hurt again.”

  He smiled. That would be nice. Or would it? He squinted at the woman in dark red. She was to teach him, but somehow he felt she had taught him before. His head hurt even more.

  “Smile and you will feel better.”

  Trak smiled again and the pain did indeed begin to lessen.

  “Don’t think too hard. It’s not good to worry.” The woman put an odd emphasis on the word, like it was something he shouldn’t forget.

  “I won’t.” He grinned at her this time and plucked at his robe. “This is a pretty color, isn’t it? I like your red one better though.”

  She smiled, but it didn’t quite make it to her eyes. “Be a good boy and you’ll get one soon enough.”

  ~

  Valanna’s stomach rebelled once they entered the Middle Ocean and began their voyage northward. Asem stood on one side of her and Kulara on the other.

  “It will go away,” Kulara said, helping her stay erect as Valanna thought she looked as bad as she felt.

  “I do so want that to happen. How much more do we have before we are on dry land?”

  “One week up the coast, close to Harrig, and then less than two weeks to Colcan. We can proceed overland from there.”

  “Anything to get us off this boat faster.”

  “It would be at least another three weeks on the ship to Espozia,” Asem said. “Going overland adds four more weeks to that.

  Valanna wailed in discomfort. The thought of two more weeks on a ship made her even more ill. But after a few days of agony, the sickness subsided. Valanna thought she must look like a scarecrow, but her appetite improved despite the monotony of the food on the ship.

  She still spent more time on the deck than below as the wind and the sun lessened the bouts of nausea that she continued to feel. Kulara walked up to her.

  “Are you ready to learn more magic?”

  Valanna started at the offer. She schooled herself to wariness. “Me? I can hardly make enough of a breeze to blow out a candle.”

  Kulara looked at her with narrowed eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

  Valanna raised her chin. “Believe what you like.”

  Asem’s wife laughed. “I knew your uncle and he spoke of you before he died. You could channel enough magic to power spells at an exceptionally early age.”

  That was true, but Valanna still protested. “He would never betray a confidence, even if he did tell you something wrong.”

  “Not wrong. Look, Valanna, I am here to help you. Asem and I know you need quite a bit of practice in creating poses. Your uncle taught you out of a book. You didn’t really practice any formal magic until you worked with that woman at her studio. Then, I would guess, you suppressed your talent to look weaker than you really are.”

  “How would you know such things?” Valanna felt trapped. Asem’s wife seemed to see right through the little protections she had painstakingly built up over time.

  Kulara shook her head. “Can’t you show a little trust?”

  Trust? Valanna stopped pretending to be a brat and sat on a wooden box. She looked out to sea. “I’m sorry. I’m not a good person.”

  That brought out a laugh that seemed more like a bark. “You are as pleasant and as innocent as any person my husband has ever worked with. I wouldn’t call you naive, but you have not yet let cynicism in far enough to make you jaded.”

  “Why do you want to help me?” Valanna spread her arms out towards the waters and then turned to Kulara. “I’m just an insignificant girl caught up with the wrong people in an impossible situation.”

  Kulara nodded and put her hands on her hips. “That sums it up, doesn’t it. That statement is correct except for the fact that neither Asem nor I feel you are insignificant. We can help each other, but there is still much danger.”

  “Danger for everyone. For you, Asem, Prince Nez, I hope, Trak Bluntwithe and me. I wish I could deal with the danger better.” Valanna felt a shock of shame and looked away. She felt Kulara put her arm around her shoulder.

  “You are stronger and braver than you think. I believe you need to be more prepared and learn more confidence. How can a person develop courage when they have no means of defense? Do you agree?”

  Valanna reluctantly nodded. She had justified her cowardice because, in her mind, she concentrated on portraying herself as a defenseless victim. She had always thought pity would get her through. It had with her uncle, that and pouting.

  “Good. Then Asem and I will help you get stronger along the way. I will teach you how to use magic quickly as both offense and defense. Asem will instruct you in how to use weapons.”

  “I’ll never be a good swordsman. They are too heavy.” Valanna permitted herself a pout.

  “There are other weapons that a woman can use.” Kulara must have seen the shock that Valanna felt. “Not feminine weapons, silly, real weapons, sticks, knives, forks, anything at hand.”

  Valanna relaxed. “Very well. I’ll try.”

  Her shoulders hurt from Kulara’s strong grasp. “Try isn’t good enough. Try gets a woman killed.”

  Kulara’s words were like a plunge in cold water. “I will.” Valanna nodded, although the thought of behaving with something other than total passivity scared her nearly senseless.

  Kulara pulled Valanna downstairs to Asem’s cabin. She knocked on the door.

  “Yes?” Asem opened it. “Ah, Kulara, have you come to see me? I’d like to see you, too.” Asem smiled at his wife. His eyes widened when he saw them both standing in front of the door.

  “I have a pupil and I need more room than our little box allows,” Kulara said, pushing Asem aside. She glared at her husband. “Don’t just stand there, close the door. You can remain, if you stay out of the way or leave… now.” She narrowed her eyes until Asem closed the door and jumped onto his bed and sat cross-legged. She gave him a dirty look and then turned to Valanna. Asem looked amused and that made Valanna a little mad.

  It took a moment for Valanna to comprehend wha
t just happened. Kulara wasn’t a submissive wife at all. She handled her husband much like Honor might a student, and it looked like he enjoyed being pushed around. The man still scared her, even though he had saved her from a hideous fate.

  “I want to know exactly what your uncle, your father and what…” Kulara looked at Asem with a cocked eyebrow.

  “Honor Fidelia?” he said.

  Kulara nodded. “And what Honor Fidelia taught you. Go through every pose you remember and the power word that goes with it.”

  “I know a few more poses than power words,” Valanna said, quite terrified. Honor never scared her as much as Kulara. She went through what her father had taught her as a young girl. The King of Pestle had scoured him and the experience eventually killed her father in Balbaam where her father had joined his brother. Her uncle had claimed to be a magician, but was, at best, mediocre. She had patterned her pretended abilities after him, but he taught her what little he knew.

  “A modest repertoire,” Kulara said, “and Honor?”

  “Honor didn’t teach me anything I didn’t already know. She gave me a sense for precision.”

  Asem sat up a bit straighter. “I can see that. What were your poses like before?”

  Valanna started her reply with a shrug. “My spells only worked half the time, barely.”

  “Bad habits from your uncle?”

  “I guess. Yes, now that I think of it.”

  Kulara put her hand to her chin and thought for a moment, “You are lucky the both of you weren’t killed, but then he probably had a thimbleful of power compared to you. What is your best spell?”

  “Wind.” Valanna decided to be honest.

  Asem rubbed his hands together. “Time to go topside.”

  Kulara gave him a curt nod. “Let’s make the ship go a little faster,” she said.

  Once they were on deck, Asem looked around and climbed up to confer with the captain. He motioned them to join him on the steering deck.

  “See the large sail, just up ahead?”

  Valanna nodded.

  “I want you to fill it with wind, as much as you can. It should come from the same direction as the wind is coming from now. Can you do that?”