The Young Magician tlt-1

by Michael Foster

  ‘Hello, Samuel.’ A grey-haired, old couple, arm in arm, said as they approached him. ‘We are Mr and Mrs Luke,’ the old man said. ‘We thought we’d introduce ourselves-we’ve been meaning to for a while. Where are you from, then?’

  ‘Stable Waterford,’ Samuel said, looking over them for any sign of Leila. ‘In Marlen. Although I have spent some time in the capital.’

  ‘Oh yes?’ said Mrs Luke. ‘I can’t imagine what the cities must be like. And you help Mr and Mrs Down on their farm?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Oh, that’s wonderful. Perhaps you could visit for tea one day and tell us all about yourself.’

  ‘Of course,’ Samuel declared, but then he spied Leila, momentarily visible between dancing bodies. ‘Excuse me, please. I see a young lady I’m hoping to talk with.’

  ‘Of course, Samuel,’ said Mr Luke through his thick, white beard. ‘Off you go and have some fun.’

  Leila saw Samuel approaching and a smile lit her face. A young man was asking her something and she shook her head, brushing past him. Grabbing Samuel by the hand, she dragged the hesitant magician out to dance. At first, he was not quite sure what to do, but he quickly picked up the gist of the movements. Within moments, they were skipping and turning playfully amongst the other village folk.

  ‘You’re very light on your feet,’ Samuel said, noticing how neatly and gently she moved about.

  ‘Thank you,’ Leila smiled. ‘And I’m quite surprised you know this dance. I didn’t think anyone outside our village knew it.’

  ‘I don’t, really,’ Samuel declared, feeling the warmth of her waist in his hand, ‘but I pick things up quite quickly.’ It was not unlike moving between some of the summoning stances he still practised every evening.

  They danced for a time and, as Samuel’s nervousness diminished, they moved a little nearer to each other with the start of each new melody. For some reason, he was constantly aware of her hand in his. He tried to relax a little and ignore the fact, but he would have had more luck ignoring his boots if they were on fire. They twirled and danced, laughing and talking all the while about anything and everything, before finally collapsing onto a bench for a much-needed rest. Samuel could not help but notice the scalding looks from many of the village’s young men.

  ‘How is it that you’re not yet spoken for?’ Samuel asked. ‘All the young men seem to be horrified that I’m dancing with you.’

  ‘My father has been very possessive of me since my mother died. None of the men around here is good enough for him. He’s hoping to find me a lord or noble of some kind to marry, but they are few and far between in these parts-and all of them are Imperials.’

  ‘Is there no one suitable for you?’

  ‘I don’t want to live by my father’s standards. He’s kept me locked up all these years, so I’ve never had time to even meet anyone, except when he bundles me up and takes me down to Gilgarry to display me like a prize cow. Then, all those pompous asses fawn all over me, I tell them what I think of them and then Father brings me home again and won’t talk to me for days. He says if I don’t choose a suitor soon I’ll end up an old maid.’

  ‘I wouldn’t say you are in danger of growing old anytime soon.’

  ‘Couples marry younger here than in the cities,’ she told him.

  ‘Aye,’ Samuel said. ‘So I’ve noticed.

  She sighed and looked about the crowd as if searching for someone, before returning her attention to him. ‘What is it that brings you out here, Samuel? You’re obviously well-spoken and educated, but Father says you help Mr and Mrs Down for no pay at all.’

  ‘I’m really not interested in money.’

  ‘That’s what people say,’ she said. ‘They also say you are a magician, but I don’t like to listen to such common talk.’

  ‘It’s true,’ Samuel told her. He was surprised that everyone seemed to know so much about him.

  ‘And you can do magic?’ she asked expectantly.

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘Can you do some magic for me?’

  ‘I thought people were distrustful of magic in these parts?’ Samuel suggested.

  ‘Oh, that’s only the ignorant ones and the old-fashioned,’ she explained. ‘Who wouldn’t be fascinated by the chance to see some real magic?’

  ‘What would you like?’ Samuel asked.

  ‘A blue puppy!’ she burst out with excitement.

  Samuel erupted into laughter, attracting a few glances. ‘I can do magic, not miracles. I think blue puppies are the fairies’ speciality. I’ll ask them to make one the next time I see one.’

  ‘You’re mocking me,’ she said, still smiling, still holding his arm.

  ‘Yes,’ he admitted. ‘I’m afraid my magic isn’t quite as spectacular as that. I cannot make a blue puppy for you, but if you find me a puppy, I could make it blue, although it probably wouldn’t enjoy it.’

  ‘Leila!’ came a stern voice, cutting through the music.

  It was Manfred Sallow, pushing through the crowd. He stopped before Samuel and Leila, clearly furious. ‘Come back to the house at once!’ he commanded with a barely restrained temper.

  Leila’s face fell as she released Samuel’s arm. She walked wordlessly past her father and through the watching crowd, not giving Samuel as much as a ‘goodbye’.

  Manfred Sallow faced Samuel and spoke to him with a pointed finger. He lowered his voice, but there was still no doubt that he was straining to remain composed. ‘I’ll say this only once. Do not speak with my daughter. Do you understand?’

  Samuel nodded calmly, for he was not angry. He had met many such difficult people before within the Order and he knew a planned and logical approach would solve more than attempting to meet force with force. As Manfred turned and started off after his daughter, Samuel had already begun to think of ways to overcome this new problem.

  ‘Don’t worry.’ It was Mrs Luke at his side. ‘No one takes any notice of him any more. It will be his fault when his daughter dies a lonely old spinster, the poor dear.’

  Samuel put his planning aside and took a few moments to talk with the old couple. From their discussion, it seemed they knew the Downs quite well, but had not been to visit for some time.

  ‘Mrs Down, the poor woman, lost her only child when it was just a babe,’ Mrs Luke explained, ‘and they tried for years to have another without success. They both took it very hard.’

  Samuel nodded in understanding. ‘I felt there was something troubling them.’

  ‘Families are very important in these parts,’ Mr Luke revealed. ‘I don’t know how things work where you are from, but here life revolves around the family bond. All of us in the village tried for years to console them, but we just couldn’t make up for the death of their little one.’

  ‘My family were all killed when I was young,’ Samuel told them in all sincerity, ‘so I know what losing loved ones can feel like.’

  ‘Oh, that’s a shame, Samuel,’ Mrs Luke said sincerely. ‘But let me tell you-there’s no feeling as terrible as a parent losing a child, believe me. You would never wish such a tragedy upon anyone. Now, if you ever feel lonely, you’re welcome to just drop by for a nice cup of tanabil tea. We generally have some on the boil for most of the day.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Samuel told them.

  He rode home while the night was still early. There was little to do once Leila had gone and he found that the other people of the village, apart from the kindly old Lukes, were not very enthusiastic to converse with him. When he stepped back into the cottage, he found Simpson and his wife were still awake.

  ‘This is an early hour to be home, Samuel,’ Mrs Down said with concern.

  ‘Aye,’ Samuel returned sadly. ‘I think it may take a bit longer for some of the village folk to get used to me.’

  ‘Oh, dear,’ she said, shaking her head.

  ‘You’d think they’d have more to concern them than you,’ Simpson declared. ‘With their farms and families to worry over, they would do w
ell to welcome you into their arms, especially with all this talk of thieves about at the moment.’

  Samuel looked up. ‘Thieves?’

  ‘So I hear. They have been chased up by the Count’s men and have been hiding in the woods to the east. No one goes in there except the odd woodsman and trapper, but they’ve been seen lurking around at night-up to no good.’

  ‘Well, we shouldn’t need to worry,’ Samuel said. ‘By the way, Mr and Mrs Luke said to pass you their fond greetings and asked for us all to drop by some time.’

  ‘Oh, that’s lovely,’ Mrs Down said. ‘It’s been so long since we had time to go visiting.’

  Simpson nodded his assent and tapped his pipe out onto the table edge. ‘That would be a fine idea,’ he said.

  Samuel went to bed early that night with the face of the captivating girl, Leila, in his mind.

  Samuel had formulated a plan to meet with Leila that next morning. He rode into town and tied Jess up in the square before walking the short distance to the Sallow house. He knocked on the front door, heart in his throat, and was relieved when a surprised Leila opened it.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she whispered fearfully, looking back over her shoulder. ‘Father is here. He’ll be furious if he sees you.’

  ‘Where is he?’ Samuel whispered.

  ‘In his study.’

  ‘Show me,’ Samuel instructed.

  Leila said no with her eyes, but Samuel squeezed his way past her. She darted ahead and pointed to a closed door beside some stairs at the end of the hall.

  ‘Who is it, Leila?’ came Manfred’s voice from within.

  Samuel closed his eyes and concentrated, at once feeling the energy of her father in the next room. He quickly entered the man’s consciousness and set a spell. When he was done, Samuel opened his eyes and smiled at Leila. She looked terribly anxious.

  ‘He’s asleep,’ Samuel explained.

  ‘What did you do?’ she asked with some concern.

  ‘Don’t fret. He was tired anyway. I suggested your father take a short nap and he seemed to find the idea attractive.’

  Leila pushed open the door, peeked in, and then went over to her sleeping father.

  ‘You can wake him if you want,’ Samuel expressed. ‘He’s only sleeping.’

  Samuel was worried that she would be horrified. Instead, Leila giggled and waved her hand before her father’s face.

  ‘You are a magician,’ she laughed.

  ‘Yes. I told you so,’ Samuel said.

  She grabbed Samuel’s hand and led him into the reading room where they sat down together.

  ‘You can’t imagine how I’ve dreamed of someone to come and take me away from Father.’

  ‘I’m not about to do that,’ Samuel protested.

  ‘We could,’ she implored.

  ‘I have work to do here for the time being. Don’t you think it would be best to reason with your father?’

  ‘He’s beyond reason. He thinks he’ll marry me to some ancient merchant in Gilgarry, but I’ll die before that happens.’

  ‘Don’t do that. To waste such beauty would be a horrible thing.’

  Her cheeks flushed, but before she could say anything, Samuel put out his hand and cast a spell. A long, green stem sprouted up from his palm and then bright, red petals began popping into being at its top. Each grew larger, pushing together and folding outwards one by one. When he was done, Samuel had produced a slender glowing rose, woven from light and tied with magic. He quickly adjusted the spell so that Leila could hold and move it, making it feel a little like a solid creation. It was radiant and shimmering and perfect-a mingling of several common spells, yet Leila found it breathtaking. She gasped and kissed Samuel on the cheek as he gave it to her.

  ‘It’s so beautiful!’ she said, and with a laugh, ‘It tickles!’

  ‘It’s made from magic. It’s a part of me, so to speak.’

  ‘How long will it last?’

  ‘Only a few days at the most,’ Samuel said. ‘But when you hold it, you will feel happy inside.’ Samuel was speculating entirely about that.

  ‘It’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. Thank you so much,’ she said as she turned the rose over in her hands. She kissed him again on the cheek, which was exactly what he was hoping for. ‘What other things can you do?’

  ‘Let’s not talk about that,’ Samuel insisted. ‘I’m not some performer sent to entertain you. I’d rather we just talked.’

  A sincere smile settled on her face. ‘Samuel, you are so nice compared to the other people here. I hope you stay a long time.’

  They sat together in the sitting room and talked far into the afternoon, until, with some panic, Samuel realised that Manfred could wake at any moment, for he felt his spell had waned, and he quickly kissed Leila goodbye and hurried out.

  ‘I’ll visit soon,’ he promised and she waved him goodbye, smiling so that her cheeks dimpled and the corners of her eyes seemed to turn up in a way that lifted Samuel’s heart.

  Samuel felt light as he trotted down the street. He had never felt like this before and he felt more like a child now than ever, laughing to himself foolishly. He was glad he was not in Cintar now, for he would not really want his peers to see him in such a state.

  Leila’s father often travelled to Gilgarry and so, from that point on, Samuel and Leila would arrange to meet in a glade by the river. Samuel looked forward to each short tryst and always dreaded leaving. They held hands and the first time they truly kissed, Samuel feared he might explode from excitement. He thought he was discovering a new direction in which to apply his studies, a whole new direction of life that he had never before experienced or even imagined, and one at which he planned to excel.

  In the months that followed, people began to appear on the Downs’ doorstep, asking if Samuel could help them with a problem or two, for word had somehow spread that he had a way of helping with certain problems. They each left feeling healthier or stronger or more quick-witted as Samuel saw to their common ills and ailments-simple things they had no way to remedy in these parts.

  Amusingly, each person, not wanting to become involved in village chatter, requested that the visit remain a secret. What perplexed Samuel the most was that these visitors often passed each other on the road up to the Downs’ house, so it was really no secret at all. Samuel overheard one fellow claiming how he had come ‘to visit old Simpson and have a chat’. When he entered the house, it was a fractured toe that was his true motivation and Samuel set a spell upon it that would soon set things right. With the numbers of visitors dropping in, Samuel thought it would not be long before a queue formed at the door.

  He supposed that this is what his duty as a member of the Order really was, to help all the common folk, yet he found their attempts at secrecy humorous. Mrs Down declared it to be abominable and told Samuel it would serve them right to remain sick.

  Winter took its good time coming, but they managed well on the farm. Simpson had money to spare and each day they led the animals down the hill into the valleys of the neighbouring farms and allowed them to drink their fill from the dams and small streams. When the rains began to return once more, Samuel spent much of his time with Leila. Somehow, they managed to keep the fact from her father, but Samuel dreaded the inevitable moment when Manfred would learn of their affair. Soon enough, the village folk would take notice, if they had not already, and then it was only a matter of time before word passed through enough tongues to reach her father’s ear. When that day came, they would deal with it as best they could. For now, they would enjoy every day together as much as they could.

  The hills were coloured with flowers of every description as spring returned, but Samuel had little time to enjoy the sight. He was kept busy dealing with a wave of pneumonia that was sweeping the area. People from all around were coming to see Samuel and be cured. It was ironic that the people in these magic-fearing lands persecuted any magician that came wandering along, but now they had the chance to have their ail
ments seen to, they were all jumping at the opportunity.

  Some things, however, were beyond even Samuel’s abilities. The ferocious summer was just getting started when a boy came galloping up the path towards the Down Farm early one morning, shouting loudly for Samuel. The lad had tears streaming down his face and asked that Samuel follow him back to the Luke Farm with all haste.

  Jess, Empire-bred, easily outstrode the skinny gelding that bore the young messenger and Samuel was soon leaping from her back before the old farm house. The Luke children were waiting on the front steps, wailing and holding onto each other tightly.

  ‘We heard you might be able to help,’ said one young woman through her tears as she nursed her own small child. ‘Please let it be true.’

  Samuel stepped into the farmhouse and found the room a broken mess. Mr and Mrs Luke were sprawled out on the floor. Mrs Luke had her arms folded across her chest and a strip of white cloth was placed over her eyes. She was plainly dead. Mr Luke was sitting against the wall in a pool of his own blood, with his blood-caked beard drooped over his chest, surrounded by several of his sons.

  ‘We found them this morning,’ one of them said. ‘It was the bandits. We’ve sent for the Count, but they’re probably deep in the woods again by now. They’ll be long gone before any of the Count’s men can get there.’

  ‘That doesn’t matter,’ Samuel stated as he knelt beside Mr Luke. The old man was very near death, with a deep wound in his chest and a great crack in his skull. His eyes looked blankly ahead and Samuel could virtually see the man’s life gushing out of him. ‘It’s very bad,’ Samuel stated plainly. ‘He has only a few moments left. I can only lessen his pain.’

  Calming himself, Samuel pushed his senses into Mr Luke’s mind. He found himself surrounded by screaming streaks of agony and Samuel could only do his best to ease the old man’s pain. He could distantly feel the tears on his own cheeks as the old man’s memories began flashing before his eyes-moments of youth, happiness and sorrow all passing in fleeting images. There were only a few thin threads of life still in him, so Samuel withdrew to await the inevitable.