03- A Sip of Magic

by Guy Antibes

  Karo nodded thoughtfully before bowing to them again.

  Pol turned his attention to Nater. “Do you do much farming?”

  The boy gnashed his teeth, showing a lot of emotion among new acquaintances. “I haven’t much until now. I’ll be working in the fields while you are at Tesna, so my father says.”

  Pol didn’t like Nater’s attitude, but then Pol wondered how much choice Nater had in the decision.

  Grainell chuckled uncomfortably. “Nater hasn’t known about our agreement until today,” he said, looking at Val. “He will be fine once he discovers that we have other plans for him.” Grainell looked meaningfully at his son. “Karo will be accompanying you as well to the West Fields in order to spend some time with Pol.”

  “We can have parties?” Nater asked.

  “Your trip is not for pleasure, but to get a feel for how the harvest will be this year. Fallhead will be escorting you out to the fields. That is something we have talked about before. After that, you get to attend Deftnis.”

  “Yes, father.” Nater gave his father a look that was tinged with a bit of defiance in Pol’s opinion, but then he brightened. “You said Deftnis? I thought you intended me to stay as West Fields until after the harvest.” That brought a grin to Nater’s face.

  “When Pol leaves us, you do, too.”

  Nater took on a smug look as he nodded to the Shinkyan.

  Pol would have to learn to mimic this boy? He could see a bit of Grostin’s personality in Nater. He felt he could learn Nater’s face and superficial habits to pass for him at Tesna, as long as no one knew Nater intimately.

  ~~~

  CHAPTER THREE

  ~

  POL LOOKED AHEAD AT NATER AND KARO as they rode together, leaving Pol riding by himself.

  “Not very polite,” Pol said to Demeron.

  Neither of them are, Demeron said. I don’t like the Shinkyan, but then I don’t like any Shinkyans. He looks at me like he owns me.

  “I shouldn’t trust Nater’s teacher?”

  Demeron nodded his head.

  “I agree,” Pol said, as he followed the pair around a bend in a little wood that separated two fields.

  On the other side of the wood, a good-sized two-story house made out of the same yellowish stone as the mansion appeared. A white painted fence circled the house and a small stable off to the side. Pol noticed the thin trail of smoke rising from a chimney in the rear of the structure.

  Karo and Nater sped ahead and rode through a gate and into the yard. Demeron kept to his own pace. Pol felt the same. He wasn’t liked by either of the two, and Pol didn’t particularly like them, although he didn’t feel overt hostility from Nater. Karo was a bit harder to read.

  A man at the stable took Demeron. “That is a very fine horse, young sir.”

  “He is. Give him some grain, and he’ll be your friend,” Pol said. “Take good care of him, Demeron.”

  The horse nodded and stood patiently for the man to approach. Pol took off his saddlebags, noticing that Nater and Karo had left theirs on their horses. He lugged his bags into the house where they would be spending the next week.

  “Why did you bring those in the house?” Nater asked, looking at the saddlebags. Pol heard the derision in the youth’s voice.

  “I’ve learned to fend for myself,” Pol said.

  Nater snorted. “Not the kind of thing I’d do, that’s for sure.”

  Pol noted the behavior. He would have to rely on servants as much as he could when he entered Tesna. Nater didn’t want to get his hands soiled from doing much for himself.

  Pol’s childhood had consisted of his wanting to do as much for himself as he could as an act of defiance. He had grown up weak and ill, and he had fought against it. He doubted weakness would have made a difference in the way Nater approached life.

  “This way, sir,” a woman said. She was dressed more like a housekeeper than a maid.

  He followed the gray-headed woman up the stairs and down the hall into a small bedroom.

  “I suppose there are a few larger bedrooms available?” Pol asked.

  She merely nodded and didn’t reply. “Washroom is down the hall, but we keep a pitcher of water and a basin ready. There’s no servant bell available in this room. She looked at Pol’s saddlebags. “It looks like you can fend for yourself, well enough. There’s plenty of food in the kitchen, and I can help you at any time you’re hungry. The Little Lord and his teacher eat at the same time they do at the big house.”

  Pol smiled and thanked her. “I can make myself comfortable. Don’t worry about me.”

  “I can see that I won’t need to.” She gave him a tight smile, curtseyed, and left Pol alone in the room.

  He unpacked his things and put clothes in the dresser and tried out the bed. It was a bit lumpy, but he’d slept on worse. He smiled at the thought of Nater adjusting to life at Deftnis. Even this bed was miles better than the one he’d left at the monastery.

  After throwing some water on his face and rubbing it hard with a towel, he changed his dusty clothes and walked down to the main level. Nater and Karo had taken up residence in a large study lined with books and a few scroll cubbies. They ignored Pol as he strolled along the shelves, examining the titles.

  “I didn’t know there were so many books on farming,” Pol said, but received no response.

  He spied a thin book titled Patterns of Agriculture and pulled it off the shelf. Thumbing through the pages, he verified that the book talked about magic and farming. Giving the two others the briefest glance, Pol found a chair and settled down to examine the book more closely.

  It seemed that one could improve crops by a very judicious use of magic. It talked about a technique that Pol had already mastered fighting with a sword.

  A sip of magic. He smiled at the thought. Large displays of magic had their place, but Pol took to the notion of lightly-applied power. Nudges. A light touch. Gentle persuasion. A sip. Pol could assemble a number of good examples.

  He placed his hand on the book. The monks of Deftnis never had taught this kind of magic, at least not to Pol. He suspected that Searl would have had to practice it when he healed. It was the difference between a two-handed sword and a thin knife blade. They each had their place, but Pol was drawn to the subtle move.

  The book droned on about seed germination and the ideal time to push growth. He recognized that sips of magic couldn’t be applied on a large scale, or they wouldn’t be sips. No matter how admirable the idea, practicality removed the theory from an application to larger scale agriculture. However, the monks at Deftnis could use the technique in cultivating herbs, and Pol hadn’t seen any evidence of that during the first half of the term before he had left to find Searl.

  He turned a page and sensed the sun setting. Pol looked up to find the study empty. He hadn’t even noticed when Nater and Karo left. Pol thumbed through the rest of the volume and slapped the book shut. He had read the best part of the book and slipped it back into its place on the bookshelf before he left to find his antagonistic host.

  He readily found the kitchen. The same woman who greeted him seemed engaged in making dinner.

  “Do you need any help?” Pol asked. “I’m not a good cook, but I’ve enough experience being an assistant.”

  The woman batted her eyelashes with a confused look on her face. “No, no. You’re a lord like Master Nater.”

  “Not really,” Pol said. “I’ve given all that up. I’m more than happy to give you a hand. What can I do?”

  “Do you know how to set the table?”

  Pol had to think. “What is customary here?”

  She told him and showed him the location of the dishes and cutlery. “You can use the placemats that are currently on the table.”

  “Will do,” Pol said. The task took a few minutes, and then he returned. “Too easy,” he said. “I can do more.”

  He actually got a relaxed smile from the woman, and she proceeded to let him help her. They had dinner well u
nderway when she stopped to look at him.

  “It’s time for you to leave,” she said. “You need to get ready for dinner. The Little Lord generally doesn’t change for dinner, so I imagine you don’t have to change, but it’s better if you return to the library or the study and wait for the dinner bell.” She gave him a light curtsey. “I thank you for your help.”

  Pol smiled at her and left to use the washroom and clean his hands and face again. He didn’t have to wait long for the dinner bell. When he entered the dining room, Nater and Karo had already begun to eat. Pol pursed his lips, trying not to be annoyed with the utter rudeness.

  The housekeeper took his plate and returned it full of food.

  Nater looked up. “Why are you serving him more food than you served me?” Pol didn’t like the whine in Nater’s voice.

  The twit treated Pol as if he wasn’t even there. He’d endured that kind of treatment before, and he wouldn’t get the information he needed if Nater behaved like a little child. He reminded Pol of Grostin, his stepbrother at Borstall Castle.

  “A magician needs more sustenance,” Pol said, putting a big piece of meat in his mouth. “Magic uses up energy.”

  “So you think you’re a magician? Karo here is a magician, and I am, too. You can’t be much of one if we’re the same age.”

  Pol took another bite and chewed and swallowed before he replied. “Actually, I’m a bit younger.” He willed himself to disappear. No one had taught him that at Deftnis. He enjoyed watching the astonished faces of the boy and his tutor.

  “Can you do that?” Nater said to the Shinkyan.

  Karo narrowed his eyes. “Is this some trick? I don’t know of anyone who can manipulate the pattern so well. It’s well above my meager abilities.”

  “Then I guess you should be treating me with the same respect you treat better magicians at home,” Pol said. “I have lots of other tricks I’ve picked up along the way, that I’d rather not show you.” He tried to sound more confident than he felt in this hostile place.

  Nater turned to the Shinkyan. “Are you going to let him get away with that?”

  Karo didn’t look at Nater, but kept his eyes glued to Pol. “Are you an older monk disguised?”

  Pol shook his head. “No, I’m a bit of a prodigy, and the monastery doesn’t quite know what to do with me, so they sent me to replace Nater at Tesna.”

  “You are young to have such power. In my country, men with such power don’t live very long lives.”

  Pol raised his eyebrows. “Are they put to death?”

  “No. Their bodies wear out from using the power, I suppose. Our best magicians are women.”

  “I had some health problems, but I had help in getting them taken care of. Now that I’m healthy, I am more confident about my abilities.”

  Karo nodded involuntarily. “I can see why. What can we do to help you succeed?”

  “Succeed?” Nater said. “I thought—”

  “It doesn’t matter what you thought. Pol would be considered a Master at the least in Shinkya, at least until his health deteriorated.” Karo turned back to Pol. “You are highly ranked at Deftnis?”

  “Too high for my comfort,” Pol said. “I am able to do disguises; just learned, as a matter of fact. I need to learn about Nater and how to look like him. Between the two of you, we can accomplish that.”

  Karo bowed his head. “I had no idea. Forgive our previous treatment.”

  “There is nothing to forgive,” Pol said, now that Karo had exhibited genuine respect. “It’s hard to follow instructions without knowing all the facts.”

  “Indeed,” Karo said.

  Nater looked from Pol to his tutor in amazement. “You accept him just like that?”

  Karo glared at Nater. “Show some deference to your betters. Haven’t we talked about that enough? I am nothing compared to this youth.”

  Nater closed his eyes and bowed to Karo. “I will.” Pol didn’t detect any sincerity in Nater’s voice. His eyes swiveled to Pol. “Can you teach me to become invisible?”

  “When I return to Deftnis after my mission, we can see how you’ve progressed. I would guess you’d need to wear a Red cord to try.”

  “What is a Red cord?” Karo asked.

  “It is the Deftnis Fourth Level,” Pol said. “I don’t know how you rank magicians in Shinkya. At Deftnis there are eight magician levels.”

  The Shinkyan tutor nodded his head and counted on his fingers. “Novice, Apprentice, Journeyman, Master, Elder, High Elder. There are junior and senior levels in each classification. So a Senior Journeyman might be the equivalent of the Fourth Level at Deftnis. All of the Elders are women.”

  “And your level?”

  Karo bowed his head. “I am a Junior Journeyman and am happy to be that and not be so strong that my health fails.”

  “Can you speak to horses?” Pol asked.

  “A senior Master can do so. You have bonded with your stallion?” Karo looked surprised.

  Pol nodded. “I have. His name is Demeron. He can keep me company while I travel.”

  Karo’s face told Pol that the Shinkyan considered Pol’s words. “Can you give us a demonstration?”

  “Tonight?”

  Nater shook his head and yawned. “Tomorrow. We have to go inspect the fields. You can show us then.”

  The other two stood at Nater’s words. “I am tired,” Nater said, yawning. Karo did the same, and it took all of Pol’s concentration to keep his jaw still.

  “When do we leave in the morning?” Pol asked.

  “After breakfast, an hour or two after sunrise,” Nater said, looking at Karo.

  They left Pol alone with the remnants of his meal. Pol quickly finished and began clearing up.

  “You don’t have to do that,” the housekeeper said.

  Pol grinned. “I don’t, do I? I help because I want to. What time will Nater and Karo leave in the morning?”

  “The farm steward will take them out at sunrise,” she said.

  “I’ll be down to help you with breakfast.” Pol smiled. “I think I might want to serve them.”

  ~

  Pol looked through the slit in the door to the dining room. The farm steward sat with Nater and Karo, while Nater crowed about fooling Pol. Now that he knew Karo a little better, he could see the magician tolerated Nater’s boasting. The talk continued about what fields they would tour this morning.

  The housekeeper nudged Pol. “My Lord, it is time they were served.”

  Pol gave her half a smile and took two of the plates into the room. Nater’s eyes grew as Pol served breakfast. The housekeeper followed with two more plates, one for Pol and one for the steward.

  “I hope you won’t mind if I join you?” Pol said. He nodded to the farm steward. “I’m Pol Cissert from Deftnis Monastery.”

  “Ankus Fallhead,” the steward said. “You heard our conversation?” The steward bowed from his seat. He didn’t look angry or shocked, but amused.

  “I did,” Pol said, slathering some butter on a biscuit. “I will be joining Karo and Nater on the tour. I hope you will be kind enough to give me a good, long lecture on farming, and especially farming on these lands.” He looked at Nater, who rolled his eyes.

  Karo’s eyes narrowed into slits as he regarded his student.

  Pol looked at Nater. “I honestly don’t understand you. I’m here to help the Empire, and you seem to perceive I’m playing some kind of a game. I assure you that I’m not doing this to have fun. I’ve been in danger before, and I expect the same at Tesna. I’m going rather than you, Nater, because I have a few more tools at my disposal.” He turned invisible and back.

  “You seek to impress him?” Karo said. “I’m not sure you can do enough to satisfy Nater.”

  The steward looked plenty impressed.

  Pol lifted his chin, playing at being Valiso Gasibli. “Let’s put our feelings aside and eat our breakfast, and then we get on with things. I promised to show you Demeron.”

  Nate
r straightened his vest. “Yes. There is that.”

  After breakfast, they walked out of the house to find three horses waiting. Ankus, the steward, sent for Demeron. Pol normally would have just gone and saddled his horse, but if he did, Nater might command the others to take off without him.

  Pol halted the stable hand bringing Demeron. “Go to the Shinkyan,” Pol said.

  Do I have to? Demeron asked.

  “Please do.”

  Demeron walked to Karo and turned around with his tail swishing in the Shinkyan’s face.

  “Write a command for Demeron on a slip of paper and give it to me,” Pol said.

  Karo took a notebook from his bag and scribbled something on it and then gave it to Pol.

  Walk to the porch, it said. Pol relayed the command mentally.

  Demeron followed Karo’s instruction, walking to the porch, and then turned to look directly at the Shinkyan.

  Karo bowed to the stallion.

  “Your turn, Nater,” Pol said.

  “Turn around four times,” Nater said. He folded his arms not expecting Demeron to follow his instruction, but the horse did and walked over to nuzzle Pol.

  “He even counts?” Nater shook his head with amazement.

  Karo looked at Demeron. Pol could see him appraising the horse in his mind. “I’ve seen plenty of Shinkyan stallions, but that one might be unique.”

  “Are you unique?” Pol said, rubbing Demeron’s jaw.

  There is only one of me, but then there is only one of you, the horse said, tossing his mane.

  Pol wondered if Demeron’s abilities were related to binding with him. He’d asked Demeron on one of their conversations on the road, but the horse had no idea.

  “I have heard that working with highly intelligent Shinkyan horses is very difficult due to their independence,” Karo said, “but it looks like you two are the best of friends.”

  “We are,” Pol patted Demeron on the flank before he vaulted into the saddle, which was always an adventure with the tall horse.