The Congruent Apprentice (The Congruent Mage Series Book 1)
Page 15
“Open it up,” said Merry. “It must be Doethan.”
Eynon carefully tugged on two sides of the ring and marveled again as it expanded into a wide circle. Three chimes sounded and Doethan’s face appeared inside the circumference.
“Are you safe?” the hedge wizard asked.
“Yes,” said Merry, “but there’s been more trouble on the river over the past two days than in the last five years combined.”
“That’s what I wanted to warn you about,” said Doethan. “The king has summoned the levies. Gangs are kidnapping anyone that has a pulse or can fog a mirror, just to earn the king’s bounty. Word is out every wizard of power must come to Brendinas to support the royal army. We’re on the brink of war with Tamloch.”
“That’s old news to us,” said Merry. She quickly filled her mentor in on what had happened since they’d left Doethan’s tower.
“You were knocked unconscious?” exclaimed the wizard. They could see the concern on his face even as ripples flowed across his image.
“I’m fine,” said Merry.
“She really is,” confirmed Eynon, “thanks to your healing potion.”
“That’s a relief,” said Doethan. “I was afraid she’d be too stubborn to use it.”
Merry stuck her tongue out at Doethan and he raised one eyebrow in reply, then his concerned look returned.
“I’ll have to talk fast—these connections are temperamental and only last for a limited time.”
“We’re listening,” said Merry.
Eynon nodded his agreement.
“Where are you now?” asked Doethan.
“In Farnam’s cabin,” answered Merry.
Farnam must be the freeholder Merry had mentioned, thought Eynon.
“Good,” said Doethan. “You haven’t gone too far. You’re not going to Tyford. There won’t be a wizard left there by tomorrow afternoon. They’ll all have left for Brendinas.”
“Where do you want us to go?” asked Eynon.
“To the Blue Spiral Tower upstream,” said Doethan. “I’m sure you saw it on the east bank.”
“But what about my cargo?” asked Merry. “I’ve got to get it to my father’s customer in Tyford. Taffaern won’t be pleased if his cider doesn’t arrive.”
“Don’t worry about that,” said Doethan. “I’ll send Old Taffy a letter and tell the old reprobate he’ll have to keep selling that weak barley water he calls beer to his patrons instead. He’ll understand.”
“But I always do what I say…” Merry began.
“Please,” said Doethan, his image wavering even more. “Go to the tower, not to Tyford. It’s important—and it’s not safe for you on the river.”
“But…” said Merry.
Eynon squeezed Merry’s hand. They exchanged a glance and Merry came around.
“What should we do when we get to the tower, sir?” he asked.
“Find the dock…” said Doethan. Words were lost as his image became less distinct. “…in the rock…”
Chee woke up and joined them, staring into the gold circle as it made rapid clicking noises much like the raconette’s own vocalizations.
“…take the west gate…” said a voice that sounded less and less like Doethan’s. “…hidden well...”
With three soft chimes, the image vanished. Chee began to mimic the circle’s clicking noises until Merry stroked his fur and gently returned him to his spot on Eynon’s pack.
Eynon pushed on the sides of the gold circle and it transformed itself back into a ring. Merry slid the ring back on the middle finger of Eynon’s left hand. For a moment, they simply sat, overwhelmed. Then Merry spoke.
“Could you understand what Doethan was saying at the end? I know we have to go back to the wizard’s tower.”
“Right,” said Eynon. “Find the dock in the rock.”
“That sounds like a child’s rhyme,” said Merry.
“Yes, but not the second part,” said Eynon. “I think I heard that we were supposed to take the well-hidden west gate.”
“Maybe,” said Merry. “We can try to remember more and figure it out while we sleep.” She yawned.
“It’s been quite a day,” said Eynon. “I didn’t think today would be more exciting than yesterday.”
“Let’s hope that trend doesn’t continue tomorrow.”
“Absolutely,” said Eynon.
His brain was racing as he contemplated the challenges of breaking into a wizard’s tower—even an unoccupied one. He was restless as he leaned back and tried to find a comfortable spot on his bedroll. Eynon didn’t achieve that state until Merry was back in his arms and the two of them were cuddled together again. With Merry beside him, all was right with the world.
“Your heart’s beating fast,” said Merry. Her ear wasn’t far from that organ.
“Yours isn’t?” he asked.
“Listen,” she said, pulling his head to her chest.
Eynon could hear her heartbeat, too. It was as fast as his. Merry moved his hand.
“You can feel it, too,” she said. It felt very nice to feel Merry’s heartbeat.
“I know something that could help us get to sleep,” said Merry. She moved one of her hands down Eynon’s body.
“Stop that,” said Eynon without much conviction. “You were hit by the flat of a sword and knocked unconscious only a few hours ago.”
“Doethan’s healing potions are very powerful. I feel better than ever. Take it slow and we’ll be fine.”
“What about Chee?” asked Eynon.
“What about him?” replied Merry. “If he wants to watch, maybe he’ll learn something.”
* * * * *
They were both more relaxed and ready to sleep afterward. Merry was tucked in close, her lips by Eynon’s ear. She whispered to him in a sleepy voice.
“Eynon?”
“What, dear lady?”
“Why did you say my father was a squire-reeve?”
“Huh,” said Eynon softly. “You mean he’s not?”
Maybe Merry’s not that far above me after all, he thought.
“No,” she said, snuggling closer. “He’s a baron.”
Chapter 12
“Plans change like the weather—and about as frequently.”
— Ealdamon’s Epigrams
Eynon woke before Merry and rekindled the fire. Chee opened an eye to watch him, then went back to sleep. Sensible beast, thought Eynon. Once a log began to burn and the cabin started to warm, Eynon visited the privy, then returned for the pot to fetch water. It would be a pleasure to have warm water to wash with, and it was past time for him to shave as well. Eynon was glad Merry hadn’t protested that his beard stubble was scratchy.
It was cool as Eynon walked down the path. The surface of the river was covered in fog where warmer air met water chilled by melting snow. The sun was barely up and only animals—and Eynon—were stirring. He had a lot to think about—like Merry being a baron’s daughter.
Why did they live in a house, not a castle, then? Eynon wondered. And if Merry was the heir to a barony, how could she also be a wizard? That went against all custom.
He filled the pot and put it on a large flat rock as tall as a table near the river. Eynon was surprised when he looked into the clear water and saw his reflection. In three days’ time, his face had matured. It might have been his beard growing in, or it might have been that life beyond the Coombe aged him faster, he wasn’t sure. Eynon promised himself he’d check again after he’d shaved, to see if his new, more mature look persisted.
Merry was still asleep when Eynon returned and hung the pot over the fire to heat. Chee had traded in his spot on top of Eynon’s pack to curl beside Merry and didn’t acknowledge Eynon’s arrival.
The
ir food supplies were on the table—no need to hoist them overhead in the cabin—and Eynon reviewed what was available to see what he might turn into breakfast. There was a small sack of flour, leftover butter in the Flying Frog Farms crock, apples, dried cherries, a round of cheese and a small smoked ham.
He was confident he could turn those ingredients into a breakfast that would please Merry.
Eynon went out again and returned a few minutes later with a dozen green sticks as big around as his little finger and as long as his arm. He leaned them against the fireplace and stripped the bark from the last foot of their length. Eynon left the bark he removed by the fire to dry—it would make good kindling for the next visitors to use the cabin. He carried the trimmed sticks to the table, then dipped a mug in the warming water and placed it beside the sticks.
He opened the drawstring on the bag of flour and poured a generous portion into the clean bowl he’d used for his soup last night. A finger’s width of butter, a pinch of salt, and a few dribbles of water joined the flour. Eynon stirred the mixture with a spoon to make a thick dough. When he was happy with its consistency, he turned the dough out onto the tabletop. He worked it with the palms of his hands, kneading it a few dozen times until it became elastic. Then he pressed it out until it was a mostly flat sheet.
He’d tried to keep his preparations quiet, but found a small observer was awake and interested in what he was doing. Chee squatted at the far end of the table and watched as Eynon used his knife to cut long strips an inch wide from the flattened dough. The raconette chittered softly as Eynon wound the strips in tight spirals along the bark-free ends of the sticks. When all the sticks were wrapped, Eynon coated the dough with more butter and carried them to the fire. He used three blocks of split wood to wedge them at an angle so the buttered dough was above glowing coals, not flames.
Chee was fascinated and jumped down to stare at the skewers as they cooked. Eynon remembered that raconettes, like raccoons, washed their food, but he didn’t think they cooked it.
Keeping an eye on the dough—and Chee—Eynon returned to the table and put a handful of dried cherries into the remaining warm water in his mug, where he hoped they’d plump up nicely. He carefully peeled and cored one of the Applegarth apples and offered the leavings to Chee, who was glad to return to the table for the treat.
Eynon chopped the apple into the soup bowl, filling it with small, sweet chunks. He added a little cider to keep them moist.
While his knife was out, Eynon cut four generous slices from of the ham and did his best to do the same with the cheese, though it was less cooperative. He rolled the ham slices around the cheese and left them on the table while he checked on the dough.
He was in luck. Thanks to the butter, all the spirals were golden brown. Eynon removed them from their spot over the coals and encouraged each of them off their sticks and onto a wooden plate. He slid the rolled-up ham and cheese slices into four of the dough spirals and carefully spooned apples and dried cherries into the rest. The warm dough melted the cheese and filled the cabin with the homey scents of cooking meat and fruit tarts, of a sort. The enticing aromas woke Merry.
“Mmmm…” she said, as she stretched under her blanket, opened her eyes, and smiled at Eynon. “What’s for breakfast?”
“Follow your nose and find out.”
“Yes, dear,” said Merry, as she stood. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Merry was as good as her word. When she returned, she looked not only hungry, but much more awake. Her cheeks glowed and drops of water were in her hair.
“The morning is too foggy for you to look so bright,” said Eynon.
“I stuck my face in the river,” said Merry.
She tossed her hair, sending a fine mist in Eynon’s direction.
“I’d prefer cider, not water with breakfast,” he said, waving a ham and cheese spiral under Merry’s nose.
“I’d prefer that,” she said, snatching the spiral from his hand.
She took a bite, closed her eyes, and smiled.
“It’s delicious,” said Merry between mouthfuls.
Eynon teased a thread of cheese off her chin with a finger and Merry licked it off with her tongue.
“Try the fruit ones,” he said, handing her another spiral.
Merry tasted one of the apple and cherry versions. Her eyes closed and the corners of her mouth turned up in pleasure.
“Mmmm…” she said. “Will you marry me?”
“I’ll consider the idea,” he said, smiling.
“If you won’t necessarily marry me, will you keep cooking for me?”
“That’s easier to answer,” said Eynon. “I’d be glad to, when I have the opportunity.”
“Good,” said Merry.
She was about to say more but Eynon handed her another ham and cheese spiral and she decided eating was better than talking. Eynon picked up one of each type of spiral and nibbled on one, then the other.
“Where did you learn to cook?” asked Merry before she reached for another.
“From my mother and father,” Eynon answered. “Isn’t that how everyone learns to cook?”
“Men in the Rhuthro valley don’t do a lot of cooking,” said Merry. “They’ll grill a venison steak when they’re out hunting, but they tend to leave any more complicated cooking to women.”
“Maybe the Coombe isn’t as backward as people here seem to think, then,” said Eynon. “Cooking skills are highly valued in prospective husbands in the Coombe.”
“Sounds like I should plan to head west for my wander year if all the men in the Coombe are good cooks,” said Merry. She grinned at Eynon.
“I thought you were going to spend your wander year learning magic from Doethan in his tower,” said Eynon.
“After I pick out a husband,” said Merry.
She gave Eynon a playful shove.
“A baron’s daughter will have a lot of suitors to choose from,” said Eynon more seriously.
“Stop that,” said Merry. “A baron from the western marches isn’t the same as a duke from a huge estate near Brendinas. There’s no requirement for me to marry another noble. My father was a yeoman before the king made him a baron, for that matter. And my mother didn’t have a title.”
“Yes, dear lady,” said Eynon. He put extra stress on the last word and bowed slightly.
“If you don’t want me to throw one of these spirals at your head, you’ll lose that attitude.”
“That would mean more for me,” said Eynon. He mimed catching a thrown spiral. “Forgive me. I’m trying to get used to Derry being a baron—and Mabli a baroness. Why don’t you live in a castle instead of a farmhouse?”
“We do have a castle,” answered Merry. “It’s farther upriver.”
“Oh,” said Eynon softly.
“Da likes to spend time at Applegarth when he can,” continued Merry. “He says it’s more like where he grew up before he was made Baron of the Upper Rhuthro. He tells me doing his own chores helps him keep his head on straight.”
“Your father seems like one of the wisest men I’ve ever met,” said Eynon. “Maybe that’s why?”
“It’s a bit different when he’s your father,” said Merry, “but he’s wise enough. He knows more than he says, which is one of the marks of wisdom.”
“That sounds like another epigram, but I don’t recognize it,” said Eynon.
“I made it up,” said Merry.
“Now who’s trying to compete with Ealdamon?”
“If I was really as wise as Ealdamon, I’d tell you to hurry up. We need to get upriver to the Blue Spiral Tower.”
“Right,” said Eynon. “I guess I have a lot of rowing to do in the immediate future.”
“Not necessarily,” said Merry.
* * * * *
Merry was looping an arm’s length cord around the crossbow bolt still embedded in one end of Eynon’s staff. She tied a large teardrop-shaped blue crystal to the cord through a hole drilled in the tapered end and held it out in front of the boat.
Eynon was reminded of the vessel he’d seen heading upriver yesterday, where a person he thought might have been fishing was in a similar position.
“Shouldn’t I be at the oars?” he asked.
“Shush,” said Merry. “I need to concentrate.”
She leaned toward the bow, reciting a spell and gesturing with one hand, while holding Eynon’s staff tightly in the other. Soon, the blue crystal hanging in front of the prow began to glow.
It must be some kind of magestone, Eynon realized.
The boat moved toward the crystal and Merry guided their vessel in a full turn until the bow was pointed upstream. They were making good progress against the current, as if a dozen strong backs were pulling oars.
“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” said Eynon.
“Shush,” Merry repeated. “Just steer. This isn’t easy.”