Stonecutter's Shadow: A young mage's fight through a fantasy kingdom full of treachery

by James Haddock

  Sleep didn't come easy. I kept seeing the men I had killed. I didn't feel remorse really, each one chose their path. But the finality of taking a life made me think. It could have just as easily been me lying dead. I jumped at every noise, real or imagined.

  When I awoke, I moved through Shadows down to the kitchens. The cooks were already at work making the breakfast for the castle. I took a plate of meat, bread, eggs, cheese, and some porridge. I sat sipping tea listening to the kitchen gossip. I learned nothing new. Everyone was afraid of what might come next, but wisely voiced no opinions.

  I moved outside and Shadow Flowed up the castle walls. I could see the mage quarter from here. There was still some smoke from burning homes. Other than that, nothing seemed amiss. Part of me wanted to just walk away from it all. I had gold and gems, I could go anywhere and make a new life. No one would ever know... except me.

  The king was dead, I owed the crown nothing. I sat thinking, trying to imagine what my future could be. The only thing I could think of was the prince waiting for his father… or at least some word of his father's fate. I looked south, deciding. I'd take the king’s message to the prince. After that, I'd go my way, and prince could go his.

  I'd need a horse, and I'd need to buy it, since stolen horses caused people to search for you. I didn't need that worry. I had coin so I'd buy one. I Flowed through Shadows to the livery stables on the outskirts of the city. Making sure I was alone I stepped out of the Shadows.

  I walked the fence looking at the horses. “How can I help you soldier?”

  I turned to the hostler, “I need a horse, a gelding. Sturdy animal. Not too nice, or some officer might take him from me.”

  He nodded, “I see the army ain't changed none. Yeah, I can fix ya.” He looked me up and down. “Can you pay four silvers?”

  I shook my head, “I’ve got two,” I answered. I had to dicker some, or he'd be suspicious.

  “Three, or stay in the infantry,” he said.

  I smiled, “three, I'm tired of marching,” I said, playing my part.

  He nodded smiling. He brought out a rough looking gelding with worn tack. I paid him, shaking my head. “He doesn’t look like much,” he said, “but he'll serve you well enough.”

  I mounted and rode down the way to a supply merchant. I stepped down and tied the reins to a ring. I knew little of cross country traveling. I didn't want to be taken advantage of by a merchant waiting to sell me the whole store.

  There was a middle-aged man sitting off to the side in the shade. He looked a little worse for wear and had a walking stick lying beside him. I noticed his cavalry pants and boots and guessed he had been in the army. He was not an unusual sight… the wars always left their wounded behind.

  I stepped over to a vendor and bought two meat pies. I walked back over to him.

  He watched me approach, “cavalry?” I asked. Handing him a meat pie.

  He took the pie nodding,” yeah, mercenary company for a few years, took a hard fall last year,” he said around a bite of pie. “You been with them long?”

  “No, just starting. Got tired of quarry work. Going to be riding a messenger route. The sergeant told me to come buy my kit and be ready to go this afternoon.”

  He looked at me, “and you have no idea what to buy,” he said smiling.

  I nodded chewing my pie, looking sheepish.

  He nodded, “what do you have?”

  “What I'm wearing, a horse, and saddle,” I answered.

  He laughed, “come on, trooper, let’s get you kitted out.”

  We went inside and he showed me what to buy, it wasn't cheap, but I'm sure he saved me a lot of trouble. I thanked him and handed him a silver coin. “Thank you, my friend, fair travels,” I said, and mounted. I saluted him and rode south out of the city.

  The horse had a smooth gait, and a calm disposition. It beat walking. We made a good five miles before we stopped for the night. There were a lot of travelers on the road, probably fleeing the trouble in the capital. There was a cook wagon with a fire, and they were selling food. I stopped and ate there. When I finished, I separated and camped alone. I didn't sleep much, there were too many people moving around, and I didn't trust anyone.

  At sunrise, I bought bread and meat from the cook wagon to break my fast and ate on the move.

  Chapter 3

  The farther away from the capital I got the fewer people there were. Those I saw stayed together, traveling in large groups. Some joined caravans moving along the trade road. I was torn between staying with people or keeping to myself. I decided being alone was better.

  I considered as I rode. Since I was alone, I was vulnerable to attack at night. I'd need to sleep in Shadow, and my horse would need to be in Shadow with me. I didn't know how he would react. “I guess we'll find out,” I said to myself. I found a good place close to a stream to camp. Dismounting, I took a good hold on his bridle and stepped us into Shadow. He stiffened at first, looking around. I talked to him, speaking low and soothingly. He relaxed after a few moments.

  I left him in the Shadow and gathered wood for a fire, and refilled my water bags at the stream. I went back to the horse, unsaddled him, making sure I took care of him before I took care of myself. I knew at least that much.

  I stacked the wood for a fire, concentrated on the word, *fire!* A flame blazed up. I set a pot of water on for soup, and a tea pot to boil. I found out I was not much of a cook but did manage a thin soup made from meat jerky. I sat by the fire, alone, but safe. I could still hear the sounds of the night, and the woods. I watched the horse, he seemed calm, so I was too.

  I took the king's mage book — no, mine now — opened it and began reading. If I was going to become a better, stronger mage, I needed to learn. Which would require study and practice. Reading my mage book by the fire and drinking hot tea was peaceful and relaxing, letting the recent horrors recede.

  * * *

  I was on the road early after a breakfast of jerky and hot tea. I rode until mid-day then dismounted and walked a while. The break did us both good. I traveled until late afternoon then made camp. Repeating what I had done the night before. As I was gathering wood, I saw a rabbit. I stepped into Shadow, moving closer, I grabbed it. Roasted rabbit was better than my jerky stew.

  On the fifth day I caught up to a caravan. I was already tired of my own cooking, so I paid to travel and eat with them. I had to sleep in the open like everyone else, but I developed a habit of sleeping lightly, waking when someone approached me, or my horse alerted. He didn't like people approaching us at night either.

  Once everyone settled down for the evening I would walk around in Shadow, listening for a while to the talk around the fires. Most was useless ramblings or gossip. Some family groups talked of trade deals and how to conduct business. The news from the capital was still sketchy, and mostly rumors. The rumors were ten percent facts, ninety percent false.

  I stopped at one fire where two men were talking. One was the caravan master, the other, I assumed, owned the wagon. The wagon owner was a hard looking man, missing his left hand. “What will you do now that Ol' Henry is gone?” the master asked.

  The one-handed man shook his head, “I'm not sure. Can't soldier no more,” he said, holding up his stump.

  “Well, Ol' Henry left you everything, so the wagon and all the trade goods are yours. But he didn't pay for this trip, so you owe for that. Or I could buy you out… if you decide to sell, I'll give you a fair price.”

  The one-handed man nodded, staring into the fire. The master rose and walked away. The one-handed man looked to be in his middle years, and heathy. I moved away from the fire and stepped out of the Shadow.

  Walking back, “may I join you?” I asked.

  He glanced at me, seeing I was dressed as a soldier, he nodded. He pointed to the pot, “tea's all I've got.”

  I sat down, “thank you,” I said pouring myself a cup. “Sorry for your loss.”

  He nodded, “he was an old man, had a good life they say.
He was kind to me when I needed it.” I nodded, drinking my tea. “You're new to soldiering,” a statement, not a question.

  “I am, got tired of working the rock quarry.”

  “I felt the same way about my da's farm. He shook his head, “Now I miss those days. He took a deep breath, “but what's past is past.”

  “How long did you soldier?” I asked.

  “12 years, made sergeant. Would have done more, but…” He said holding up his stump.

  “When I first started in the quarry, they put me with an older man, one with more experience. So, I wouldn’t mess up too much, I reckon,” I said, smiling.

  “Same everywhere, in every trade” he answered.

  I nodded. “I'm young, not stupid. If I went into battle right now,” I shook my head, leaving the rest unsaid.

  “At least you know that much and are honest about it.”

  “I'm going to be with the caravan for a week or so, I'd like for you to teach me what you can in that time. I can pay you and help you with your wagon until we part ways.”

  He studied me for a moment, deciding. “A copper a day for the training, and you help with the wagon and animals. If you whine about work or the training, I'll send you packing. Seven days don't give you much time, so I'll not be easy on you. Agreed?”

  I nodded, “agreed.”

  “Your name?”

  “They call me Hyder.”

  “Hider? Not a good name for a soldier.” I shrugged. “Be here an hour before sunrise, we'll start then. You'll pay in advance for each day of training.”

  “Yes, sir,” I answered.

  “Yes, sergeant.”

  “Yes, sergeant,” I corrected. “Thank you for the tea.” He nodded, and I went back to my horse and sleeping mat.

  * * *

  At one hour before sunrise, I was at his wagon. My horse, and gear packed, ready to move when the caravan did. He didn't waste any time. We started with the very basics — stance, footwork, and balance. We trained for one hour, then packed his wagon and hitched the horses. I grabbed breakfast from the cook wagon for us, and we were ready to move when the caravan moved.

  I rode beside his wagon as we traveled. He didn't talk much unless I asked a specific question. We stopped for lunch, and we trained for a half hour, then ate. When the caravan started again, I walked my horse for a while to rest him and stretch my legs. I still was not used to long hours in the saddle, but I was getting better.

  “Tie your horse behind the wagon, you can ride up here for a while, and we'll discuss tactics,” he said. I tied my horse and climbed up onto the wagon seat. He handed me the reins. I took them and we moved on.

  “To survive as a soldier, you must always be aware of your surroundings. You must learn to look ahead and anticipate. Look at the terrain, and see how it could be used against you, and how you could use it against an enemy.

  “You must learn to think like your enemy. If the plan of attack is set correctly, anticipating what an enemy will do, and being prepared for that, gives you a better chance of survival.

  “But the most important thing of all is not to panic. It will take time to develop this trait, but if you can stay calm while everyone else is panicking you have a far better chance of living. When you panic, all you can think to do is to run. And most of the time you run into death.” He got a far off look in his eyes and said no more.

  We crossed a river ford and made camp on the other side. When the wagon was set, I took care of the horses. “Fill our water barrels, then help others fill theirs.”

  “Yes, sergeant,” I answered. The wagon master took notice of my helping, nodding as he passed. I also noticed that everyone pitched in, filling all water barrels. This caravan was a tight community made up of traveling trading families.

  Once I had finished, we continued our training. After practice, I washed off in the river. “Downstream side”, the sergeant, who was named Churn, reminded me.

  As I sat at the fire with Churn eating dinner — tonight it was meat stew with potatoes, and onions — “Do you know how to use a bow?” He asked.

  I shrugged, “I've shot some, but I'm not great at it.”

  “You should learn, as a bowman, they'll keep you on the sides of a battle, not in the front line. You'll live longer, and you'll be able to hunt for meat. A good bowman is welcome in most every company and camp.”

  I nodded, “then I shall buy one, and learn to use it.”

  The wagon master came by, “Churn, the scouts say we are being followed and watched. At least one of you should be awake all night.” The sergeant nodded, and the master moved on.

  “Let the fire burn down low and stop looking into it, then, before your watch, turn your back to it. This will save your night sight.”

  “Yes, sergeant.” I said nothing of my ability to see in dark. I had decided to keep all my mage abilities secret, since it seemed that being a known mage was not good for your health.

  “When you are on night watch, you don't talk unless necessary, then only in soft, low tones. Sound travels much farther at night.”

  My night training had begun. There was no attack that night, but every night after that, one of us was always awake. I didn't mind since we usually dozed one at a time the next day. I liked the quiet time to myself, but I did miss reading my mage book. Sometimes it seemed to almost call to me.

  * * *

  The next town we stopped at was Dame's Ford. It was a good-sized town, built at a shallow spot on the river. This was also where I planned to leave the caravan, turning east inland. “I know a weapons merchant here, if you'd like, we could see if he as a decent bow that you could buy,” Churn said.

  “Thank you, I'd like that.”

  On the way, we stopped at a bakery and bought sweet rolls. “These are my weakness,” he said. “If I lived in a town, I'd weight 400 pounds!”

  We found the weapons merchant and went inside. When he saw us, he yelled, “hold it right there!”

  “Are you with him, lad?” Churn said nothing.

  “I am, sir.”

  “And I'll wager he's been telling how he's won every battle single handed.”

  “Oh, no,” I thought, “here comes a fight.”

  “I warned you the last time I was here, that if you said that again there would be trouble,” Churn said heatedly.

  “You say that every time,” the merchant replied. “And besides, that joke never gets old!” They both laughed, hugging.

  “Hyder, this is Mercer, my old comrade, who I single handedly kept alive through the wars.”

  “Not true, he had both hands on those occasions, thank God!”

  “We shook hands. “Well met, Hyder!”

  “And you, sir.”

  “Hyder needs a longbow, Mercer.”

  “Well, I have a few, let see what I have that suits you,” Mercer answered. We walked through his shop; I was all eyes looking at all the weapons. Mercer picked up a stave and stood it beside me. “Too short,” he said shaking his head. He chose another but laid it back down. We followed him further on where he looked through some others. He stopped, “Does it have to be a longbow?” he asked smiling pulling a leather case from underneath the shelf.

  “Where did you get that?” Churn asked.

  “They come in from time to time. Not many appreciate them,” Mercer said.

  “Not many have seen them in action,” Churn said.

  “This is a horsebow from the Mongol lands. Don't let the size fool you. They are one of the best and strongest bows made.” he said as he took it out of its leather case.

  I must admit, it was a good-looking bow, but I was not sure it would be as good as the longbows I was familiar with. Mercer strung it — with some effort — then handed it to me. I felt its draw, and found it was a powerful bow. I could not pull it to its full draw. Mercer was nodding, smiling.

  I shot a few arrows with it, burying them deep in the target. It was a true wonder.

  “How much?” Churn asked.


  Mercer looked around, turning serious. “I've had it for sale for a gold. You can have it for six silvers, no dickering.

  No dickering meant that was as low as he was going, take it or leave it.

  Churn whistled, “Hyder, if you have the coin, you may never see a bow like this again, at this price.”

  I looked at them, then the bow. I had the coin and I trusted Churn’s assessment. Remembering my father saying, “You get what you pay for — pay for a cheap tool, you get a cheap tool.”

  “I'll need arrows as well,” I said.

  “I'll throw in a quiver and arrows as part of the deal,” Mercer said.

  I nodded, paying him six silvers.

  * * *

  Later, back at the camp, Churn, and I were sitting at our fire drinking our usual evening tea. So, you plan to keep the wagon and stay with the caravan?” I asked.

  “Yeah, me and Ol' Henry made decent coin doing it, and I learned enough from him that I think I can continue making a go of it. What about you, still going to seek your future with a mercenary company?”

  “I'm not sure, but for now I'll head that way.”

  “Well, if you decide not to, you'll have a place on my wagon,” he said.

  “I'll keep that in mind,” I said. I found my sleeping mats and lay down. The training I had gotten, short though it was, helped me. Now at least I wouldn't trip over my own feet.

  My best defense and weapon was still Shadow Meld. But I couldn't rely on it in every situation. To do so was foolish. I needed more training although I didn't intend to serve in a mercenary company, but these were perilous times.

  My plan was still to take the message to the prince. I'd give him his share of the gold and gems so my promise to the king would be fulfilled. Then I'd be on my way, my life my own. I slept fitfully, and morning came too soon. I helped Churn load the wagon and hitch the team.

  “You watch yourself, lad,” he said.

  “You as well, sergeant, thanks for the training.” I mounted and rode back into town where I bought some better food for the trail, then headed east, as the sun rose over the trees.