“You have felt it.” It wasn’t a question. Lassadar knew.
“Yes.” I paused. “What does it mean?”
He smiled. “It means that we are alike. I feel it too, the egg is burning in my mind just as strongly as it is in yours. It means that Lor was right to bring you here. You have powers, some of which you don’t even know yet. If you hadn’t come here, these powers might never have come to light. You would have stayed ignorant of your own abilities, caught in the hamster wheel of repeating the same thing over and over again. I offer you a new path. Explore your powers with me, together. Let us push away the confinements of knowledge, let us learn new things together. This is why I’m showing you the elvedritsch and her egg - this is something new, something that not many people have seen before. We are pioneers, making our way out of the darkness and into the light of learning.“
He paused and looked down at the egg.
“The fascinating thing is that I don’t know what will come out of this egg. You see, elvedritsch are born in such a way that they cannot reproduce, at least not with one another. In this, they are like mules, born from the union of a male donkey and a female horse. When elvedritsch lay eggs, there’s usually nothing in there but stinking fluids. It’s like nature is mocking them by letting female elvedritsch lay eggs, yet never produce offspring. However, this particular hen somehow managed to lay a fertilised egg. I know you can feel the embryo inside, as can I. Yet whether another elvedritsch will hatch or something else entirely, I cannot say. I’ve never heard of elvedritsch eggs growing, either. This one here is something new. And I have to admit, I find it quite humbling to be the first to be able to witness the hatching of an elvedritsch egg.”
There was a knock on the door. Lassadar shot me an irritated glance and called for the servant to enter.
He was followed by a familiar man, dressed all in black. The sorcerer that had kidnapped me in Ashenfields, the man who had killed the old woman, who had strangled my mind with his icy leash, was standing only a few feet away from me. I jumped up and staggered backwards until I could feel the wall behind me.
“Easy, girl. He isn’t here to hurt you,” Lassadar said soothingly. He beckoned to the servant to go, then kneeled to put the elvedritsch back into her cage. When she sat down on her egg, I felt something tingle in my mind.
Lassadar sat down on his armchair and signalled me to sit down on the chair beside him. The sorcerer was standing by the door, arms crossed over his chest, unmoving. His face was a calm mask, hiding any emotion he might have, yet still he radiated weariness. His black clothes were immaculate, yet his boots were sprinkled in mud.
“Lor,” Lassadar said with a sigh. I was waiting for him to continue, yet he said no more. It was an uncomfortable silence, and each second began to stretch until I felt the urge to speak myself just to break the silence. Yet I said nothing.
Then, Lor bowed deeply, while keeping his eyes fixed on Lassadar. “Master, you called.”
This time, Lassadar answered. “Indeed I have. I came back from my travels to find our young guest here” - he nodded his head in my direction - “half-starved in the dungeons. Only by good fortune I arrived in time before she perished right under my eyes. You were in charge of her well-being, yet you failed me and her. Did I tell you to kidnap innocent people and drag them here, only to let them die in those horrible caves? No, I told you to find people that might be gifted in the same way as you and I am, and ask them to come here so that they may be taught in our ways, so that their potential did not go to waste. Yes, I hoped that some would follow my call, yet I didn’t ever think of forcing them. What would someone who is magically gifted, yet refuses to cooperate due to ill treatment add to our cause? I have not dared to ask young Eona here to assist me because I still feel indebted to her due to the mistreatment she suffered at your hands. So, what am I going to do with you?”
He left a dramatic pause. Lor stood still, his face a silent mask, not moving a single muscle. He didn’t look guilty at all; he was devoid of any emotion. Somehow, I envied his self-control. While I was looking at him, his eyes suddenly locked with mine. We were staring at each other, not able to look aside. I could feel his consciousness move towards me, trying to read me with more than just his eyes. It felt like he was extending his fingers, groping around in the darkness for my thoughts. The closer he got, the more afraid I got. I forced down the impulse of running away. I would have to learn how to fight him, running away could not always be an option.
Hide.
But there was nowhere to hide away from his disgusting fingers. When he touched my mind for the first time, a shiver run through my entire body. He felt wrong, he was a foreign body in my consciousness that needed to be removed. I could feel him expand his hands around me, looking for a way to enter. I felt all the cracks he could use, and somehow he seemed to read those thoughts, getting closer to a site of fracture. I knew that if he managed to gain entry to my mind, all would be lost. There was only one way out. I took all my powers together and repelled him, imagining a splinter being forced out of an open wound. I staggered with the effort, but it worked, his fingers had gone and within a fraction of a second, my mind was safe. I opened my eyes. Lor was kneeling on the ground, panting heavily. Somehow, the action of expelling him from my mind had had a physical effect on him.
“Well done”, I heard Lassadar say close to my ear. I swayed, suddenly conscious of how much energy this simple motion of defending my mind had cost me. An impenetrable fog closed in on me, and I felt my legs give way under me. I fell, but just before I hit the ground, strong arms were suddenly around my back and held me. Tiredness was a wave that threatened to carry me with her, yet the touch of Lassadar’s hands on my shoulders kept me anchored to the present. I was a flag in the wind, fluttering wildly, yet fixed to a post. Forces pulled at me from all directions, yet I was grounded to reality. After some time, they subsided. I had withstood the storm.
I opened my eyes. The orange colour of the sunlight that struck my eyelids told me that at least an hour had passed, yet Lor was still standing in the same position by the door where I had last seen him. Lassadar stood next to him, talking quietly. It looked more like a friendly conversation than the accusing speech Lassadar had held not long ago. Maybe he had already punished Lor, and then seeing the issue as over, pretending that nothing had happened. But Lassadar had sounded pretty angry earlier, I couldn’t believe that he would just ignore what Lor had done to me.
I yawned loudly to get their attention. Immediately, Lassadar was at my side.
“Feeling better?”, he asked with a worried look on his face.
“Yes, I must have nodded off. Sorry, I didn’t want to take up so much of your time.” I felt a little embarrassed. What would he think of me, having me falling asleep in his room for the second time now?
“No, don’t feel bad, you took no time of mine at all. In contrary, your display of your powers, untrained as they may be, quite impressed me. Forcing a man as trained in magics as Lor to his knees is quite a feat. Now that I know how strong you are now and how strong you might be once you’ve received some training, I am almost impatient to waste time on Lor’s punishment, if we could spend the same time instructing you in some basic ways of how to use your powers. Still, I promised that he would be held account over what he put you through. It’s no way to treat anybody, least of all an honoured guest such as yourself.”
When he called me a guest, my mind flew to the image of my locked door here in this tower, yet I ignored this nagging thought and willed it away. It was for my protection so that people such as Lor could not harm me. I had spent the last week in bed, too weak to move, too weak to defend myself. It was only logical to keep my door locked. Lassadar was on my side.
“… I’ll make it your choice.” Somehow I had missed part of the conversation. What was my choice? Surely not what I was thinking. Surely not Lor’s punishment. They didn’t know what I could do, I had killed a man. I was in no position to judge Lor, we we
re the same. How could I be better than him, having murdered someone in cold blood?
“I can’t - I don’t know the customary sentence…” My voice faltered. I looked around me. Lor was standing by the door, an amused smirk on his lips. Lassadar was looking at me expectantly, waiting for an answer that I could not provide him with. I searched my mind for reasonable punishments. I found none. What Lor had done was despicable and evil, yet so was any punishment that I could condemn him with. Don’t fight fire with fire, my old gran used to say. If I showed Lor kindness, would he see it as such, or would it count as weakness in his eyes? For some reason, I did not want him to see me as weak.
Lassadar must have sensed my predicament, for he cleared his throat and offered, “I can understand that you don’t know the laws in the Kingdom of Fer, and I won’t hold that against you. Let me tell you what sentence I might impose on the offences of deprivation of liberty and wrongful incarceration. While these might be penalised with the loss of a limb or the loss of a sense, he was acting under my orders, even though he misinterpreted them. Therefore, if I were to speak judgement over Lor, I’d say that the just punishment, in this case, is the loss of a small body part, such as a finger or toe. Would that be agreeable to you?”
Though I found these punishments more barbaric and gruesome than they would have been in the Plains or the Free Cities, they would be those that Lor was used to. He would not find me weak if I agreed with Lassadar’s propositions.
I took a deep breath. “Yes, it would. Maybe losing a finger will mean that Lor thinks twice about doing things that you have not ordered him to do.”
“Exactly. Although I might suggest changing the sentence to the loss of a toe. Sometimes, Lor might need all his fingers to do what I ask him to do.”
I did not question what this might be. Lor seemed to relax a little now that he was sure to keep both arms and legs. He even shot me a little conspiratorial smile. Ice cold hatred flooded me. He should be sorry for what he’d done, not smile. He should be afraid, just as I had been. He should fear me just as I still feared him.
But it was too late. Lassadar had already asked Lor to leave. After the door had shut behind him, he turned to me.
“Now that this unfortunate business has been settled, we can continue where we left off. I think I was just about to explain about the elvedritsch’s egg.” He turned to face the fireplace and shook his head as if startled.
“My, time has passed quicker than I had thought.” I looked at the wooden clock that ticked away on the wall over the fireplace. “You must excuse my rudeness, but I will have to ask you to continue our conversation at another time. I am expected at dinner in only a matter of minutes and must put on some proper clothes. The King does not like to be kept waiting.”
When I heard a knock on my door, followed by the turn of the key the next day, I expected a servant that would bring me to Lassadar so that we could continue our conversation on the elvedritsch as promised. Instead, Healer Reaving came in, carrying an armload of scrolls and a large bag. He used his foot to close the door, then put down his heavy load on the table that stood in the middle of the room. I was sitting on a chair by the window, letting the warm sunshine on my face. Outside, it was getting colder, autumn was close. Yet today was a beautiful day, and warm air filled my room. I had not been outside for a long time, and I longed to see a different scenery from the endless water below my window. I made a mental note to ask Lassadar if I could explore the castle a little, now that Lor had been dealt with.
Healer Reaving had begun to sort the scrolls he had brought with him. Some of them were new, the ink still vibrant, while others seemed ancient, the paper stiff and crumbling at the edges.
“I’ve taken the liberty to bring a few scrolls on healing herbs after you seemed interested in them the last time I was here.” He paused, seemingly embarrassed. “I hope I’m not bothering you, if I have misunderstood, you can tell me and I’ll leave you in peace. Sometimes I get a little carried away, and you’ve been the first that seemed interested in this, and …” His voice trailed away.
I shot him a big smile. “No, it’s wonderful! I enjoyed reading the book you brought, and I’m sure I’ll also have a great time looking at those scrolls. Sit down, make yourself comfortable.”
He breathed a sigh of relief, sat down on the other remaining chair and shyly smiled back at me.
“I thought we could look at them together, and I also brought some herbs for you to look at. It’s always better to see them in real life, to notice their smell and taste.”
He opened the large bag he had set down next to him. A wave of an assortment of aromas and scents shot out of it. He pulled out a bunch of yellow flowers and gave me one to look at more closely. It had five symmetrical petals and smelled a little like honey.
“This is verbascum, more commonly known as velvet plant. Its seeds are slightly poisonous and are sometimes used to paralyse fish, which makes fishing a little easier. I use its extracts for making a remedy for ear infections, and an infusion of its flowers for respiratory disorders. It was in one of the potions I gave you for your cough. I trust it has helped?”
I nodded, and curiously looked at what else his bag might contain. He smiled and pulled out another bundle of herbs. This time, it was dried green leaves. They looked familiar.
“Is this lamb’s tongue?”
He nodded with enthusiasm. “Yes, or as we herbalists call it, plantago lanceolata. In other areas, it’s known as narrowleaf plantain. Again, something that was in your cough medicine. But people use it for all sorts of things, like putting a plantain paste on itching insect bites or eating its thick root to ease a toothache. I’ve got a scroll somewhere that debates whether a salad made from plantain leaves helps against impotence. If you ask me, it doesn’t, but…” He suddenly stopped. His face had gone a deep shade of red. I couldn’t help myself. I laughed loudly. He looked at me, then grinned and joined in.
I hadn’t realised how long it had been since I’d last been laughing and joking around. It seemed like years had passed. I thought of Mara, Luca, Cino, all the people I held dear. They had become my family; they had cared for me when no one else did. I wondered what they were doing right now. They would be leaving Hawkfair soon, if they had not already done so. I loved staying in the town of Hawkfair. The people there were used to host multiple travelling families in late summer each year and celebrated the arrival of each company with evening dances and bonfires. Many families who lived in the small town were related to travelling people, and so it was not only a coming-together of travellers but also of extended relatives. Mara’s sister lived in Hawkfair, having settled down after she got pregnant the first time. Now, she had dozens of grandchildren running around, and last year, her first great-grandchild had been on the way. I imagined Mara sitting amidst all those children, telling stories of life on the road, giving out sweets, inviting the children to tell her their favourite stories in return. My thoughts went to what Lor had said when he had captured me. A gypsy boy had told him about me. Had it been one of the children there? Someone in the extended Ghorres family even? Not on purpose, I was sure of that. I didn’t have a grudge with any of them, and even though it had taken them some time to get used to the ‘findling’, they had all come to accept me into their family.
Maybe the Ghorres family had already left Hawkfair and was on their long and difficult way to the Free Cities, where they would spend the winter. Yes, it was getting cold outside, and they would try to take the mountain pass before the first snow. Allembach was the city we had spent most winters, the story houses there were famous and attracted not only travelling people, but guests from local towns as well as faraway places. Here, I spent most of my winter evenings, sitting in the warm bar of the Lonely Minstrel, listening to songs and stories, and sometimes even telling my own. Or maybe they would decide to winter in Rittletown. Now that young Cino was learning to read, Luca might want to show him the Great Library, or the dignified halls of the old university.
I wondered who was teaching Cino now that I wasn’t there with them. Luca was always so busy, organising shows, helping out wherever he could, and I wasn’t sure if he’d take the time to teach his son. Maybe Mara took over Cino’s education. She had taught her daughter to read, even though back then this had been unusual. Now that her daughter had passed away, she might take the opportunity to pass her knowledge on to her grandson.
“Am I boring you?” I flinched, having forgotten all about Healer Reaving sitting there with me.
“I am sorry, I was just thinking about the family I used to travel with. I’m wondering what they are doing. I miss them, and I miss travelling outside, seeing the land and its people, traversing the Plains - have you ever been there during summer? It’s beautiful, the heather is in full bloom, the few trees that manage to survive there have shiny red apples, or ripe plums hanging from their branches, ready to pick. You would like it there, I am sure, all the herbs that grow by the side of the road, Mara taught me to recognise some of them, although I’m sure you would know exactly what they all are.” I stopped, caught in emotion. The young man was quiet, simply listening.
“Until now I hadn’t realised how much I miss the outdoors. I haven’t been outside for so long, and here I only see the lake, there’s nothing green here. Now that you’ve brought all these herbs, I want to see them where they grow. I want to smell their scents intermingling in the warm summer air, I want to feel them with my own hands, I want to walk barefoot over grass, I want…” There were tears in my eyes. I could not speak anymore without letting go, without crying in front of Healer Reaving. I crossed my arms in front of my chest, hugging myself.
Heart of Time (Ruined Heart Series Book 1) Page 7