“That’s smart,” said Mabli.
She looked at her daughter as if daring her to say it wasn’t.
“Did you know the dried upper part of marshapple reeds makes good baskets?” asked Mabli. “You could sell that part, too. We use them to make coracles.”
“The round boats?” Eynon asked.
Merry shook her head and stared at Eynon, a silent comment on his lack of knowledge.
“That’s right,” said Mabli. “And other sturdy baskets, since it’s clear you don’t have much use for boats in the Coombe.”
“True enough,” said Eynon. “I’d been meaning to ask,” he continued. “I saw how to go downstream in a basket boat, but how to you move one against the current?”
Derry, Merry, and Mabli laughed.
“What?” asked Eynon.
“You don’t,” said Merry, her voice sounding like her name for the first time. “Coracles are so light you can carry them on your back until you’re upstream, then put them in the river and float back.”
“In the summer, when the water level is lower and the flow isn’t as strong, you can paddle a coracle up the Rhuthro,” said Derry, “but it’s still faster and easier carrying it up the path on this side of the river even then.”
“The load of a man is his coracle,” said Mabli.
“What does that mean?” asked Eynon.
“It’s just a saying,” said Merry before her mother could reply. “It means you never build a coracle you can’t carry.”
“That sounds wise,” said Eynon.
“Most sayings are,” said Mabli, getting in the last word. “Let me get the baked apples.”
While Mabli turned to the hearth, Merry questioned her father.
“Why were you so late today, Da?” she asked. “I thought you were just going to check for storm damage by the old oak, dig marshapples, and be home early. We have to get the cider barrels ready for loading in the morning.”
“You’re right,” said Derry. “That was what I’d planned. I carried the coracle up the path to the south dock and put it in the water. Then I transferred six trout from my traps to the nice cage you made me.”
“I made that fish cage when I was ten, Da,” said Meredith. “You don’t have to go on about how I wove it.”
“Yes, my merry maid,” said Derry. “I put the fish in my favorite cage and headed south from the crossroads to fill in that spot in the road that always washes out when we get a heavy rain.”
Merry frowned at her father, then her expression softened and she smiled.
“So that’s why you were carrying a shovel,” said Eynon.
“Did you think I was burying a body in the woods?” asked Derry.
Eynon pretended to look shocked. “Perhaps,” he said, the corners of his mouth turning up.
“In these parts, we don’t bury inconvenient bodies. We weigh their clothes down with rocks and throw them in the river,” said Derry.
“Da!” said Merry with mock outrage. “Don’t say things like that in front of the hayseed. He’ll think you’re serious.”
“If you need help finding rocks and tossing bodies out into the current, I’m glad to pitch in,” said Eynon.
“Why don’t you pitch in and carry bowls of baked apples to the table, Eynon?” asked Mabli from her position by the hearth. “I’d have my daughter do it, but I don’t know if her response would be sweet or tart.”
“I thought we were having baked apples with honey, not sweet tarts,” replied Merry.
“I’m glad your mood is changing for the better or I’d have to give your portion of baked apples to our dinner guest,” said Mabli. “Thank you, Eynon.”
Eynon had taken two full bowls from Mabli and delivered them to Derry and Meredith at the table. When he delivered Merry’s bowl, the young woman raised one eyebrow and gave him a tight why-did-you-bother-me look, like a cat interrupted at its grooming. Eynon gave Merry a slight nod to show he’d received her message. Despite Merry’s attitude, he was enjoying the conversation around the table. Derry and Mabli were doing their best to make him feel welcome. He started to return to the hearth, but Mabli waved him back to his seat. She put steaming bowls of baked apples with honey in front of Eynon and herself. He tasted his portion and didn’t have to work to make his face look pleased.
“Go on,” Mabli said to her husband when she’d had her first taste of baked apple. “You never did explain why you were late.”
“I was trying,” said Derry, “but was rudely interrupted.”
Merry stuck her tongue out. Derry saw it, but ignored it.
“I was walking back north to the crossroads when I saw a young man standing there,” said Derry. “He’d just found…”
“…out that the old oak had been struck by lightning last night and caught fire,” said Eynon. He stared at Derry, willing him not to mention the amulet.
“Da had to walk by the old oak to fill in the spot that washes out,” said Merry. “Wouldn’t he have seen it burning?”
“Maybe it had been smoldering?” suggested Eynon.
“That must have been it,” said Derry, rubbing his chin.
“There would have been smoke if it was smoldering,” said Merry. “You’re hiding something.”
“If he is, he’s got a good reason for it,” said Mabli. She put her hand on her husband’s arm affectionately.
Merry gave her father a stern look, then focused on Eynon.
“He’s hiding something,” said Merry, sharpening her gaze on their guest.
Eynon’s cheeks turned red.
“If Eynon has a secret, it’s his to tell if he wishes,” said Derry. “We need to respect his privacy.”
“I’ll be alone with him on a boat for most of a week,” said Merry. “I’ll talk it out of him on the first day.”
She set her jaw in a way that dared any of them to contradict her.
Mabli and Derry nodded. Eynon’s cheeks turned even redder. After a deep breath, Eynon grinned and nodded, too. Then he laughed.
“A wise man knows when he’s defeated,” said Eynon. “I’ll get my pack.”
Eynon retrieved his pack and goatskin from where they were hanging on pegs by the front door. He moved his empty dessert bowl to the side and placed his pack and skin on the table. Merry moved the unlit wooden candlesticks to make more room. Before Eynon opened his pack, he unclipped the small crossbow from the strap on his goatskin.
“Derry and I found this while we were digging the firebreak,” said Eynon.
“You mean you found it,” said Derry. “You’ve got a good eye.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Eynon.
“Do you know how to shoot a crossbow?” asked Merry. Her voice sounded like a captain of soldiers ordering a new recruit to report.
She extended her hand and Eynon passed the small device to her. Merry pulled back the bowstring and engaged it, then released it by hand, not using the trigger. She stared at Eynon, waiting for his answer.
“I can hit what I aim at, with bow and crossbow and sling,” said Eynon after a brief hesitation. “I wasn’t the best at the weekly shoots, but I wasn’t the worst, either.”
“Good to know,” said Merry. She removed one of the four bolts from the stock. “We may have more quarrels this size in the barn. I’ll check in the morning. I think one of them has a line tied to it and would be good for fishing.”
Eynon was pleased Merry had had offered to help him—or maybe she just wanted fresh fish on their trip.
“I’d be glad to give fishing with it a try,” he said. “It would help me get used to the way it shoots.”
Eynon was confident the crossbow would shoot straight and true, but it would still be smart to practice.
“Remind me tomorrow,” said M
erry.
Eynon was tempted to reply, “Yes, dear,” the way his father usually answered his mother, but he nodded instead. He finished opening his pack and lifted out his second-best linen shirt. The rolled-up garment clattered when he placed it on the table. He tugged at the fabric and the odd-looking shards were revealed. Mabli, Derry, and Meredith examined to strange shapes.
“I’ve never seen anything like these before,” said Merry.
She rubbed a shard between her fingertips, being careful to stay away from its sharp edges.
“They’re smooth, but not cold, like metal,” continued Merry. “They don’t have a grain, like wood, either.”
“They feel like obsidian,” said Mabli.
Everyone turned to look at her.
“When did you ever see obsidian?” said Derry, surprised that his wife had managed to surprise him.
“A peddler let me hold his knife,” said Mabli. “He said he got it from the Eagle People and they brought it here over the Sea.”
Merry grinned. “Did his knife get longer as you held it?”
“Meredith!” said her mother. “Sometimes a knife is just a knife.”
Eynon held back a chuckle, entertained by Merry teasing her mother the way she had. Back in the Coombe, young people made such jokes about each other, but not about their parents, and especially not to their faces. Maybe it’s different if you’re an only child, he thought.
Mabli continued, laughing off her daughter’s interruption. “This one wasn’t metal. It was black and very sharp. It felt like glass. These shards aren’t quite the same. They’re oily, somehow, like they’re glass made from plants, not sand.”
“That’s a good way of describing them,” said Derry. He’d been examining one of the shards himself. “I think they’re wizard-made.”
“Why would you say that, Da?” asked Merry.
“Show them, Eynon,” said Derry.
Eynon unwrapped the amulet while it was still inside his pack and slowly withdrew the silver oval with the blue stone. He held it very carefully, like a butterfly, and didn’t point the stone at anyone. He placed the amulet face up in the center of the table.
“That’s why,” said Derry. “I watched the lad find the thing and send a fireball at the old oak before he knew what he held.”
Merry and Mabli leaned in to examine the amulet.
“How beautiful,” said Mabli. “It’s the largest magestone I’ve ever seen—and the metalwork is exquisite.”
Light from the fading sun reflected off the amulet’s surface and sparkled in Mabli’s eyes.
Derry took his wife’s arm to prevent her from getting too close.
“Watch out,” he said. “I don’t want to lose you if it shoots out another fireball.”
“How many magestones have you seen, Mother?” asked Merry.
Mabli frowned at her daughter, more amused than annoyed, but she waggled her finger before switching to a smile.
Merry moved to pick up the amulet, but Eynon blocked her hand and returned it to the bottom of his pack.
“I wanted a closer look,” said Merry.
“Sorry,” said Eynon, “but I don’t want to set fire to your house, even by accident.”
Merry glared at him, shooting fireballs of a different sort with her expression.
“Thank you for showing it to us,” said Mabli. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
“Not even from a peddler?” teased Merry, shifting her gaze to her mother and changing her mood like a spinning weather vane.
Derry touched Eynon’s arm. “It’s mage-made for sure,” he said. “You’re wise to keep it hidden until you can find the right wizard in Tyford to advise you.”
Merry’s mood shifted again, this time to storm clouds. “I still want to see it again. I need a better look at it.”
Eynon didn’t reply. He finished repacking his pack and returned it and the goatskin to their pegs.
“You need to respect our guest’s privacy,” said Mabli.
Merry put her hands on her hips. Eynon smiled at her and tried to change the subject.
“I’d really appreciate it if you could look for those extra crossbow quarrels in the morning,” he said.
“I said I would,” said Merry. “I always do what I say.”
“And so does everyone around her,” said Derry.
“I wonder where I got that from?” his daughter rejoined.
Derry looked toward the ceiling and pretended to whistle. Eynon and Mabli laughed. After a beat, so did Merry.
“If we’ve got to find him a free wizard in Tyford,” said Merry, “I’ll be a few days longer than usual.”
“So long as you’re home in time to start your wander year,” said Mabli. “I want to give you a proper send-off.”
“You should be able to find a couple of passengers heading upriver to help you row your way back,” said Derry.
Merry shook her head slowly.
“How many times have I made this trip, Da?”
“Once a month for nine months a year for the past two years on your own,” said her father. “And three years of trips with me before that.”
“Thank you,” said Merry. “I’ll be back as fast as I can—well before I have to leave on my wander year.”
Mabli smiled at Merry.
“Happy birthday,” said Eynon, “and happy wandering.”
“My birthday’s not for a month,” said Merry, “and I’m always happy when I’m traveling. That usually means when I’m in a boat—alone—on the river.”
“That’s not the point of a wander year,” said Mabli. “You’re supposed to meet new people, visit new places, try new things. You can be a hermit here at home.”
“Maybe I’ll wander across the Sea to find my own obsidian knife,” teased Merry.
“If only,” said her mother.
“Come along Merry, Eynon,” said Derry. “We need to get the cider barrels staged for loading. It will go faster with three of us.”
“Yes, sir,” said Eynon, rising. He followed Derry and his daughter toward the door, then turned over his shoulder to speak to Mabli. “Thank you for supper,” he said. “The baked apples with honey were a treat.”
“It’s a pleasure to have you as a guest,” said Mabli to Eynon’s retreating back. Her voice carried as he closed the door. Eynon was just able to catch her words.
“Such a nice young man.”
Half an hour later, after the four surprisingly large cider barrels were staged for loading and Merry left to get ready for bed, Derry invited Eynon to have a drink of winter-fortified extra-hard cider.
“Sit,” said Derry, indicating a bench inside the shed where the barrels were kept before shipping. “Have some applejack.”
Eynon was glad he hadn’t told Derry about his father’s trick to make cider stronger. Clearly, Derry had already mastered the technique. The farmer took a swig from a thick-sided crockery jug and offered the heavy container to Eynon, who took a small sip.
“That’s very good,” said Eynon. “And very strong.”
“But smooth, don’t you think?”
Eynon nodded, but Derry hadn’t waited for a reply.
“Magical artifacts are dangerous, lad,” he said. “And lost artifacts probably have wizards looking for them.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier if the wizard who lost it found me?” asked Eynon. “Then I could just give it back.”
“Maybe,” said Derry, after he’d had another generous drink from the jug. “But how would you know any particular wizard is the one who lost it? Not all wizards are kind and helpful, my lad. Remember—crown wizards serve their noble masters—and free wizards serve only themselves.”
Eynon thought about it and had anothe
r sip. The liquor really was smooth.
“So what should I do?” he asked. The applejack was making him feel warm and more than a bit sleepy.
“You’ve already learned not to claim you know something when you don’t,” said the farmer. “Be curious, and keep your wits about you. Don’t take what others say at face value.”
“That’s good advice in almost any situation,” said Eynon.
“Yes, but you’ve lived too long around friendly, honest people,” said Derry. “It’s different in places like Tyford. You don’t have much practice spotting those who’d lie for their own ends.”
“You’re right about that,” said Eynon. “I promise I’ll try my best, sir.”
“And that will have to do,” said Derry. “I’ve been hearing troubling rumors from the capital and hope they’re not true. I don’t want you and Merry caught up in the squabbles of kings and nobles.”
“Rumors?” asked Eynon.
“Let’s hope that’s all they are,” Derry replied.
The farmer put the stopper back in the heavy jug and stood up. Eynon also got to his feet. To his surprise, Derry gave him a quick, fatherly hug.
“Time to call it a night,” said Derry. “You’ll need your rest if you’re going to keep your temper around my daughter.”
Eynon nodded and smiled.
Derry, he thought, was most assuredly right.
Fercha
The wizard in blue fell through her escape gate’s black circle and pointed her toes. She knew she only had a fraction of a second before she hit deep water—with luck, more like a knife than a rock. Then she entered the frigid lake, her form somewhere between the two extremes. It was dark in the cavern, and darker still below the surface until she struggled her way back up to take a welcome breath.
The Congruent Apprentice (The Congruent Mage Series Book 1) Page 4