The villagers tossed petals over the couple, who smiled and waved. Once the petals were spent, the village headman brought forth the torch to light the fire. A fiddler struck a jaunty tune. Couples paired off to dance in the village square beside the flickering light of the bonfire. The sun had begun to set, and the world was cast in a pink and orange glow. The dancers made long shadows along the cobblestones as they twirled and stomped their feet. I had my fill of the villagers and their trifles and decided to return to the manor.
I had assumed I had arrived unseen, but it was not so, an unwanted observer cornered me as I went to make my escape.
“Johai, what a surprise.” Damara smiled and curled her lips. Her grey-streaked auburn hair had been braided down her back, and the simple cut of her gown gave her the look of a farmer’s wife, though she was too clean and her gown too well pressed to ever pass as such.
“Damara.” I inclined my head towards her, cursing myself for being caught out tonight. I did not need Maea’s teacher and companion catching me at spying.
“Your protégée looks quite stunning, don’t you think?”
I paused. Was this Damara’s doing, then? I should have suspected. “Then it was you who nominated her as a candidate for spring maiden, I presume?”
“What makes you think that? A pretty young woman like Maea, I am sure they discovered her without help.” She was teasing me, I knew, but I would not oblige her taunts. I did not need additional reminding that the girl that had been an obedient student and a faithful companion had grown up.
“Hmm,” I said noncommittally.
Damara sighed dramatically. “Johai, I thought at your age you would have grown out of this obstinate streak.”
“You speak as if I am an old man when I am only twenty and six years old,” I said with a scowl.
Damara laughed, throwing her head back. “I forget since you act like an old man. Why don’t you ask the girl for a dance if you’re not an old codger before your time?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. If she thought she would goad me into acting, she was sorely mistaken. I did glance towards the dancing, Maea had disappeared from sight, and I wondered where she had gotten to. I shook off the thought, the girl’s—no, the woman’s—affairs were her own.
“I think not. If you do not mind, I shall be retiring.”
“Don’t wait too long to act, Johai, or she’ll be scooped up from beneath your eyes.”
I waved my acknowledgment and strode up the path, cursing my idiocy for coming. What did I hope to achieve? I should have spent that time working out the puzzle.
Hushed voices whispered in the shadows just beyond the path. I reacted without thinking and looked to see which lovers had stolen away for a private moment. A man, with his back to me, spoke in low tones with a woman. He held her hands in his. He said something, and she turned her face into the light.
The man leaned in, and I should have turned away. It was none of my business, but I saw Maea’s eyes widen as the young man’s lips brushed hers, and I felt a roar rumble in my chest. I cleared my throat to abate the anger that swelled inside me. She turned towards me, violet eyes wide and bewildered.
I stared for a moment before turning to walk away. It was none of my business, I told myself.
“Johai, it’s not what you think!” she called after me.
I did not reply and strode away from her as she continued to call my name.
It had been very foolish to come out to the celebration indeed.
Part II
“Johai, it meant nothing, I swear it.” Maea stood before me, cheeks flushed and her garland askew on her head. I studied the letters in front of me and painted my face to the picture of indifference. I did not care who the girl chose to bind her life to.
“What you do is your business, but if you wish to be free of our arrangement, you need only say so.” I leaned back to meet her wide violet eyes and folded my hands over my chest. I would not waste another moment on her education if she wished to marry a commoner. To think I had spent the better part of the past ten years, my youth, training her to have her throw it back in my face. At least that’s why I liked to think I was angry.
Tears gathered along her dark lashes, and I felt a stab of guilt only she could elicit in me. How could I have not seen it sooner? Why had I been left so unprepared for her to blossom into a woman?
“Do you truly think that I would give up after all we’ve been through together?” she asked, and her piercing violet eyes probed my soul.
I looked back to the tabletop to avoid her seeing into the darkness of my heart. The girl was a fool; she would be better off without me. I wanted her for my own gain. She would be happier with the boy.
I crafted my next comment to sting, better she withdrew from me before it was too late. “Then you do love him?”
She flushed, and it was all the answer I needed. “I’m tired, Maea. It has been a long, eventful day. I shall bid you good night.”
She took a step back, and for a moment, I thought she would linger and say more, but in the end, she hung her head and stormed out, her skirts swirling as she exited. In her wake she left behind a few scattered petals from her garland. I reached down and picked them off the ground. They browned and curled under my touch. I crumbled them and tossed them to the ground. I only brought death and destruction.
*~*~*
I needed distance and time. I reconsidered my contacts letter, and though I knew it was a dead end, I decided to take the journey to the southern port city of Thelmn. The journey took a week, and I managed to make it there without incident.
Thelmn lay on the bay at the southern tip of the peninsula in the province of Quince and had been built around a delta. Ships of all shapes and sizes were moored there, and the place bustled with activity. Different languages overlapped one another like a cacophony of chattering birds. I slipped down side streets, my hood pulled up as I often travelled to deter unwanted stares. My white hair, the physical mark of my bond with the specter, would not go unnoticed in these southern provinces.
The shop I was looking for lay off the main strip, a wooden sign outside swung in the faint sea breeze and creaked on rusted pins. Most of the distinguishing markings had long since been wiped away, but the form of a black book could be seen clearly against the faded whitewashed wood.
I opened the door, and a bell clanged as I entered. The dusty shelves were lined with old volumes in several different languages. I glanced over them briefly, and my eyes came to rest on a statuesque woman who was perusing a book beside the counter. Her ebony hair recalled Maea, and I averted my gaze and pretended to be looking for a book to read until my contact exited from the back, where I assumed him to be.
The woman shifted into my sight, and I flicked my gaze in her direction. She had dark eyes that matched her dark hair and nut-brown skin. One of her forelocks had been braided with three turquoise-colored beads and ended with a white feather.
She smiled as I realized I had been staring at her.
“Can I help you, my lady?” I asked.
She cocked her head to the side as if she did not understand the language I spoke. I pointed to the feather and beads. “You are Biski?” I asked in her presumed mother tongue.
She grinned and flashed bright white teeth. “Ah, a scholar and a mystic,” she said in a melodious voice.
Her perception was a bit unmanning though I pretended to be unaffected by her. Under normal circumstances I would have ended our conversation there, but something in the way she regarded me—I felt compelled to speak lest I appear cowed by her. “I did not think your people cared for the written word.” I gestured to the book in her hand.
“No.” She turned the tome over. “They do not, but my calling requires it of me.” She upturned her wrist and showed a tattooed insignia there, a whirling pattern that overlaid a triangle. I recalled the image from a text I had read as a boy.
“A priestess, then,” I said.
She grinned again. “In
training.” She nodded. “You are worldly for one so young.” She reached out to touch me, and I took a step back. Intimacy had never been something I was comfortable with, especially from strangers. She withdrew her hand and rested it upon a satchel she wore at her hip. “You are also marked by darkness.”
An ominous chill crept up my spine, I knew her people had an uncanny ability to control the elements, and they were said to be wise in the old magics, but it still startled me to have a fledgling priestess pin me thusly. “You are mistaken, my lady.”
She ignored my protests, reached into her satchel, and extracted a silver chain with a pendant swinging from it. The amethyst stone that swung at the end was surrounded by Biski silverwork, and the twirling pattern likened to her tattoo. “This will protect you,” she said as she held it out to me.
I glanced at the necklace and then at her face, her grin had faded, and a more serious countenance had taken its place. “I do not think it would suit me,” I said. It looked like something crafted for a fine lady to wear; besides I was not in the habit of taking trinkets from strangers.
“A gift for a sweetheart, then.” She insisted, swinging the necklace towards me. It caught a shaft of light coming from the shop window and violet-colored light briefly illuminated the opposite wall. I felt a tingle of power graze my skin, then fade. Whether it was the woman or the necklace I could not be sure, but I was resolved to refuse her gift. Besides who would I give such a bauble to?
“I cannot.” I eyed the necklace. I could only guess at the spells woven into those symbols. I had limited experience with the wild magic peoples of the south, but I knew enough not to trust something given without cause.
“Please.” She grabbed my hand and, turning it palm up, placed it there and closed my fingers around it. “You shouldn’t deny a woman her heart’s desire,” she said, her melodic voice taking on a husky edge.
Gooseflesh rose on my arm. I imagined Maea, hair spread out on a pillow, face flush and lips parted. I shut my eyes and shoved away the image. I had left Graystone to avoid such uncomfortable thoughts. What power did this woman have for such a simple trinket to summon such a thought?
“There is no magic in this object but what the bearer bestows on it,” she said, and then she said in clear Danhadine, the common tongue of my people, “You should hurry home before it is too late.” She brushed past me and out the shop door, which tinkled on her way out.
I looked at the necklace lying on my palm, cool to the touch and seemingly innocent. I sensed no spells about it, and the specter did not stir. The encounter left me uneasy regardless. Had I imagined her reading my thoughts, or was she just uncommonly perceptive. I looked over my shoulder after she had gone but saw nothing but a busy street outside the shop window.
“Johai, I thought after your last letter you wouldn’t be coming south for a while,” the shopkeeper greeted me. I turned to face him, and the shopkeeper, a rounding man with a squashed face, smiled as he settled on a stool behind the counter.
I shook off my thoughts and shoved the necklace in my pocket. “That is what I thought, but I changed my plans. What is this tome you said I might be interested in?”
His face lit up. He jumped up and hobbled over to the shelf behind his desk and extracted a massive volume with gold lettering on the spine and sheets coming loose from the binding. He dropped it onto the counter, and it thudded, sending dust flying through the air. I waved my hand to avoid inhaling the suffocating dust particles.
“This!” He swept his flabby arm across it with relish. “I got it from a Jerauchian bloke who came down to trade.”
“I see.” My thoughts kept wandering back to the Biski woman. If I left now, I could catch up with her, even a priestess in training must know more about this thing than a dusty book. “Let’s have a look, then.”
The shopkeeper pulled up a chair for me, and I pulled back the cover. Inside, decorative lettering and illumination along the borders dated it as several centuries old. However, what caught my eye was the depiction. A man kneeled in a circle of candles and held a dagger aloft. The caption beneath it read: a summoning.
My pulse quickened with excitement. I took a seat on the offered stool. Perhaps this had not been a fool’s errand after all. I gingerly thumbed through the pages, scanning the archaic Jerauchian.
“I thought you’d like it,” the shopkeeper said.
I did not reply. I was too engrossed in the book. I flipped through a few more pages and caught snatches of other images, a figure hovering about a man’s shadow and a man levitating while another held his hand aloft. This was the lead I had been searching for! It depicted everything I had experienced since summoning the specter.
“How much?” I said.
He thumbed his chin, rubbing a faded scar that ran vertically across it. He, too, had fought in the war like many Danhadian men of this age. After a moment he said, “I could not let it go for less than one hundred gold coins.”
“Done.” I slammed the fee upon the table and gathered up the book. The shopkeeper blinked in surprise. I needed to get this back home as soon as possible for further study. I would need a good reference for Jerauchian text, and mine was poor, considering my heritage.
“Contact me if you find anything else like this,” I said and hurried out of the shop.
I stepped out into the bright light of the afternoon. Men were hauling bags of flour into a nearby bakery, and a cart pulling vegetables drove past. The Biski woman was long gone, but it did not matter. I had found the key at last, and whether Maea joined me or not, I would be returning soon to Keisan, and then they would pay for the wrongs that had been done to me.
Part III
I returned to Graystone elated. I had studied what I could of the book on the road, but I would need Maea’s help translating. The girl had a head for languages, and though her Jerauchian was as lacking as mine, I knew her quicksilver mind would make easy work of translating the documents. I had thought more on our spat and had resolved to give the Biski priestess’s necklace as a peace offering. It was not in my nature to apologize, but I hoped she would understand the gesture. I rode up the tree-lined path leading to the house. The greens blurred against the blue of the sky, and the sweet smell of grass and violets filled my nostrils. I inhaled deeply. I would speak to her straight away, I decided.
My horse’s hooves clattered on the pebbles of the walk. I pulled to a stop as we neared the front of the house. My groundsman, Theldred, was standing outside as I approached. I had not expected a welcome, but it saved me the trouble of fetching him to tend the animal.
I swung down from my saddle, and the gravel crunched beneath my feet.
“Theldred, my horse needs tending. We have had a long journey.”
He nodded. “That I can see. You went south and back in two weeks’ time. I hope you did not push her too hard.” He took the reins from me and rubbed the animal’s neck.
“I did not. You don’t have to worry about the creature.”
He nodded again but seemed distracted. He looked past me and over the horizon. I was not one for conversation or for making small talk, but he was acting strangely. He had not motioned to take care of the horse’s needs nor had he moved out of my way. I sensed perhaps he wanted to speak with me, and though I would have rather headed indoors to begin my translations, I needed him to maintain my lands, and therefore, I had to uphold a certain level of civility, no matter how much I shied from it.
“Is there any news I should be aware of?” I asked. I feared he would announce Maea’s betrothal to his son.
“Nay, quiet as always, maybe even a bit tamer than usual. Maea was scarce for the past few days and had Earvin all in a huff. We’re preparing for spring planting soon, and from the amount of rain we had this past winter, I suspect it will be a bountiful crop.”
“I trust you can handle everything else, then,” I said through a clenched jaw. Just mention of his son put me on edge and destroyed what little patience I had left for menial farming an
d other domestic things. “If there is nothing else.” I bowed my head and walked around him and my mount.
I strode towards the double doors that led into the manor, and Theldred called out to me as I did. “Ask Maea if she’s seen my son. He has chores that need to be done, and he’s been missing since this morning.”
My hands curled into fists. “I shall,” I replied through gritted teeth and strode into the house, my good mood curbed by bitter thoughts.
Damara emerged from the parlor when I entered. With my emotions on edge, I wished for nothing more than a quick greeting and then back to the tome for further study. “Damara, I wish for you to excuse Maea from her lessons this afternoon. I have a task for her.” I took off my cloak and slung it over my arm as I spoke.
“She is not home.”
I stopped and glared. “Where is she, then?”
“She and Earvin went for a ride,” Damara said with arms folded over her chest. She lifted a sculpted brow as if to challenge me. As a boy, I had feared that expression. As a man, in my household, I met it with a cool stare of my own.
I had counted on Maea to be waiting for me when I returned. I had never considered she would move on so quickly. Is this how she repays my generosity? Is this what I receive for saving her life? I redirected my anger to Damara instead. “Is this not my house? Are these not my holdings? What makes you presume you can give instruction to those in my charge?”
Damara laughed, and it was not a pleasant sound. “Do not speak to me like a petulant child, Johai. You brought me here to be the girl’s tutor. I left my home to help you in your quest, and if you are going to leave this place in a temper, then I am going to manage your household as I see fit in your absence.”
I clenched my jaw, and a vein ticked along it. When had everything begun to fall apart? I wanted to snap at her and put her in her place, but I knew she was correct. This had nothing to do with her, and we both knew it.
In the Household of a Sorcerer Page 2