The Young Magician

‘Do you want to feed the horses?’ she asked as she stood and brushed away the crumbs from her dress.

Samuel nodded and she began leading him around the stable, showing how much and what to feed each horse. They all belonged to different guests in the inn. The animals were giants of shining flesh and they watched Samuel with a mix of concern and curiosity. Both Samuel and Jessicah needed stools to reach the tall animals’ backs, and Jessicah showed him how to brush their coats and keep them looking fine and healthy. They spent the afternoon like that in the barn, laughing and talking together. At first, he had been sure this place was terrible, but now, Samuel was actually enjoying himself. He had never had so much fun doing chores. At home, it was always boring and he never had help. His brothers had never made it seem like fun and his sister had never tried to help him.

‘We have to go get the water now, so I’ll show you the square,’ she said and Samuel nodded enthusiastically.

They each carried two wooden buckets out into the bustling traffic and Jessicah led the way down several streets, still filled with intriguing and strange people. In Samuel’s village, he knew everybody. Here, there were so many people, how could anyone get to know them all? It was all quite startling.

After a few more streets and a few more turns, they reached a stone well in the centre of a square. A couple of old women were drawing water and filling buckets in a rickety barrow.

‘Most inns have their own well these days, but Father says that as long as he has someone to fetch water for him, he’s not going to pay to have one dug.’

Samuel nodded and helped her pull the water up with the cold and wet chain, and fill their buckets. He admired how she carried her load so easily and, each time they returned for more, she led him down a different set of streets and explained the points of interest, such as where she saw a horse run into a house, where a strange man who paints his face and talks to himself lives and where she once saw a town guard stabbed by a thief-there had been lots of blood and it had looked awful.

They made many trips back and forth to the well but, even so, Samuel was still completely lost and doubted he would be able to find his way without Jessicah beside him.

Finally, when the large trough at the inn was full, the two of them dropped their buckets and almost collapsed in a heap. As they recovered their breath, they patted the backs of the two huge, brown, slobbering dogs that lapped at the water. Jessicah said she did not like these dogs very much. They had often tried to bite her and they had always had scabby sores on their skin. Her father had bought them for very little. On hearing about their scabby sores, Samuel stopped patting the dogs and rubbed his hands on his trousers. The pigs looked up at him and oinked questioningly from the ends of their tethers.

So far, it had been quite hard work and Jessicah said there was always a lot more to do. Samuel felt sorry for her. Then again, he felt sorry for himself, too. At home, his brothers and Sarah would do all the hard work.

‘Oh, and when you go outside, be careful of the soldiers,’ Jessicah told him. ‘Uncle says the Imperials all hate us and would beat us if they could, so you should certainly stay away from them.’

Samuel nodded again. There were so many things in this town to remember!

After a few moments of peaceful resting, Jessicah sighed and explained she had more chores to do inside and she left Samuel to finish the stables. Waiting in his stall was a thin cot and a single blanket. He moved these aside and began carrying in buckets of water with which to scrub the floor. Eventually, there was more stone than dirt visible and Samuel was content that it would do for tonight, although the smell was still ghastly.

‘Samuel!’ came an angry voice from outside.

He hurried outside to where his uncle was waiting impatiently.

‘If this is how you do things, you had better learn quick! Everything you do had better be done properly,’ he demanded, ‘not half-done like this! I want this trough filled to the brim. Now get going!’ and he clipped Samuel roughly on the side of the head. Samuel grabbed a bucket in one hand and his burning ear in the other and hurried off, wincing.

That night, as Samuel lay in his hard bed, staring at the dark roof and occasionally coughing from the dust, a soft voice called out to him, ‘Samuel?’ Jessicah entered the stable. She carried a small oil lamp and it lit the stall with a yellow light as she tiptoed in. ‘I’ve brought you a lamp, but make sure my mother and father don’t find out. It’s quite expensive and they’ll be terribly mad. I can’t stand the thought of you out here in the dark.’

Samuel nodded and thanked her and at once she was gone again. Tears began to flood down his cheeks in tiny streams as fear and insecurity washed over him. His uncle and aunty seemed so terrible and this place was horrid. He wished to be back with his mother and father and Jason and James and Lee and Sarah-but they were all dead now. He would never see them again. Samuel had seen dead animals before, lying still and limp, their eyes open and staring and covered in flies.

‘You’re a long time dead,’ Samuel had heard his father say many times. He was not sure why he had said it, but it certainly seemed true. Once something died, it was buried and was never seen again, unless it was dug up accidentally. Mother once dug up the bones of some hens when she was out hoeing in the garden. Gooey old bones. That’s all that was left of his family. Samuel wondered if Tom’s father or anyone had buried them. They had not even let Samuel go and look. Perhaps they thought it was too horrible to see. He remembered the cries and sobs of his mother, and the brutal voices of the men who had killed her. He remembered the way they had pushed into the house and struck at Father and his brothers, and how the tall man had stood in the doorway and watched on heartlessly while his men did their evil work. A new flood of tears began and Samuel wished everything awful would all just go away. He continued sobbing for a long time until sleep finally washed over his exhausted body and he fell into dreams of running and playing around his home and the comforting presence of his family, all busily doing everyday things.

In his dream, he was atop Bear Valley and the enormous brown-furred bear was there, sniffing and looking up at him. The waterfall was running like a river of flashing colour, more beautiful than Samuel could have imagined. The bear then stood up on its hind legs and stretched upwards, roaring and seeming to grow huge. It dropped back onto all four legs and it then did a thing quite strange. It bowed to him, dropping its head low as Samuel had seen his brothers and Sarah do often, mocking each other. Only this was not mocking. The bear remained genuflecting, and Samuel, for the first time, could see its healthy glow, shining as brightly as the man who had performed tricks in the village. So unusual, Samuel thought, because he had never noticed such a glow around an animal before. Its radiance grew and grew, growing brighter and brighter, until even the scintillating waterfall of the valley was dull by comparison. A loud crash sounded-a boom like thunder and all the birds and insects and frogs and other creatures in the trees suddenly began chirping and tweeting and croaking as one. Samuel clamped his hands to his ears to block out the noise and looked up towards the mountain, where an enormous leering face was looming, looking down at him with great amusement. The earth shook and Samuel lost his balance. He fell from the edge of the great stump and tumbled down, head over heels, towards the valley floor. As he rolled over and over in his dream, Samuel could hear a desperate voice calling out ‘Father! Father!’ over and over again.

With a sudden gulp of breath, Samuel woke up. His heart was beating furiously, but he kept his eyes closed and reached for the blanket, pulling it up to his chin. It was a hot night and he could feel beads of sweat running down his face, but he rolled over ever so slowly, quietly, turning away from the doorway. He strained to listen above the beating in his chest and the ringing in his ears, but the stables were awfully quiet-strangely quiet-and the thought only served to fuel his fears. Samuel lay tensed in his bed, ready to spin over and shout out with all his might to dispel the quiet-but he could not, for the greatest fear held him tightly in place: the fear that there, behind him in the doorway, someone or something quite horrible and tall was waiting, quietly watching him with a wickedly evil grin.

The first days with his uncle and aunt passed painfully slowly, with more and more tasks appearing for Samuel, until he was run ragged from dawn until late each night. His aunty had scoffed at the mention of schooling and asked what need had he of such things as writing and reading. Even at home, he would go to see Mrs Tincup twice each week for tutoring. He was not as smart as his brothers and not even a little bit as educated as Sarah, but Samuel knew much more than Tom did. Tom was always busy with his mother in the store, or with his father at their home and it left very little time for him to see Mrs Tincup. Tom never did seem to mind. In fact, he disliked any schooling, but Samuel had always felt proud when he could show his father something new he had learned.