The Young Magician

‘Sorry,’ was all Samuel could reply. Eric seemed even better than when they played in the school. The air of excitement had obviously empowered him.

The next kick-off saw two of Samuel’s teammates attempting to guard the energetic Eric. Each time he tried to dart away from them, they were only a step behind and kicking at his ankles. Samuel laughed as he saw Eric’s patience starting to wear thin.

‘Here!’ someone cried and Samuel lurched into life as the ball sailed towards him. Instinctively, he kicked it, but it went high and wide, bouncing off the wall of a neighbouring building, then back down into the square. Eric laughed and Samuel scowled back at his friend.

The game went on. Samuel tried his hardest to intercept the ball wherever he could, but these boys were all very good despite their age and he had not played for some time. His fitness and enthusiasm could only carry him so far before he began to tire. Spying his chance, Samuel leapt for the ball as it careered free from the opposition and he kicked it with all his might. He winced as he bruised the end of his toes within his soft sandals. The ball arced towards the goal area with too much force and not enough accuracy. It would have sailed far too wide, but Samuel would not have it. At the last instant, the ball curved sharply, bounced before the wide-eyed goalkeeper and ricocheted between his legs into the goal.

All Samuel’s team gave a great hoot, but the opposition were left aghast. Eric was shaking his head slowly, but smiling.

Samuel limped over to him. ‘I think it’s time to go. I’m stuffed.’

‘I agree. And another shot like that and we’ll be lynched,’ Eric replied.

They called farewell to the two teams of boys and trotted from the cobbled square.

‘How are we going to explain our clothes?’ Samuel asked.

‘Oh,’ Eric replied. ‘I hadn’t thought of that. We’ll throw these shirts away and say we lost ours by the river. Or perhaps we can try climbing over the wall behind the larder?’

Samuel smiled and shook his head. Some of the best ideas were always short lived.

Master Glim looked on as Samuel and Eric left the square. He had been amusing himself by watching them for some time, since he had spied them sneaking through the markets, obviously up to mischief. They would never catch him following them, of course. He remembered his own youth, when he had done such things time and time again, more often than not receiving a clip on his ear from one of the niggly old Masters when they heard of his adventures. He had hoped for the lads to continue cheating, so he could cancel their spells and chuckle at their confusion, but they had proved wiser and had left of their own volition. Let boys be boys, he thought to himself with a laugh and turned back towards the school after them.

‘Hello, Samuel,’ Eric said, using the Old Tongue as he entered the dormitory.

Samuel, in the Old Tongue sounded more like Summuly, but Eric, being a more modern name, was still pronounced as Eric.

‘Hello, Eric,’ Samuel returned, using the same language. ‘Where have you been?’

‘A few of us with Moving and Lifting spells were unblocking some of the sewers.’

‘That must have been pleasant!’ Samuel finally replied. ‘It smells like you did well.’

‘What are you studying?’ Eric asked and leaned over Samuel’s shoulder, causing Samuel to screw up his nose.

‘Some works by Zencoshia Xykoquotu, an ancient philosopher who seemed to think that women could use magic nearly as well as men.’

‘Sounds ridiculous-and not just his name.’

‘It is. I’ve found several volumes of works discussing women who actually did manage to spell, but it seems that they rarely progressed past making love potions and wart creams.’

‘Oh?’ Eric remarked curiously. ‘I’ve always wondered why that was.’

‘Yes,’ Samuel continued. ‘This philosopher dabbled in the area and after losing thirty or forty of his concubines he decided that there was something innate about them that made their spelling… unstable.’ The last word was in Turian, as he could not remember the correct Old Tongue equivalent. ‘It turns out he went on to research the ability of animals to use magic, but that’s the last anyone saw of him.’

‘I’m not surprised. He’d be a madman for sure. The whole thing sounds like rubbish.’

Samuel closed the book and pushed it aside. ‘I spent all day yesterday reading another article that dealt with the possibility of women spelling, until I finally realised it was actually about spelling, the alphabetical kind, and whoever had wasted their time translating it had not bothered to check the correct interpretation. Apparently, there was a time in the south when they were testing to see if women were actually human or animal.’

‘I sometimes wonder myself,’ Eric said with a smile.

‘Two opposing aristocrats had bet each other a generous sum as to the status of women and neither was prepared to lose. One man kept a farm, raising women with no human contact so they were devoid of language or intellect, while the other raised them with a keen wit, teaching them appreciation of poetry and music. Neither would give in for many years.’

‘So what happened?’

‘Eventually, the intelligently raised women became so enraged with the argument that they rebelled and freed the caged women and killed both the aristocrats and then they put all the men to work for them.’

‘So everybody gets what they deserve in the end. Is that the moral?’

‘Possibly-although it’s probably just a tale construed by wives to teach their husbands to watch their behaviour. Who knows? Where’s Goodfellow?’

‘Gone into the city to buy something,’ Eric answered vaguely. ‘I had a look for that book you mentioned-the one about the language of Ancients, but I couldn’t find it.’

‘Oh? Perhaps Master Dividian has it. I mentioned it to him and he seemed interested.’

‘Well,’ Eric said. ‘That’s all very interesting, but I want to see Janina before tonight’s lesson, so I have to hurry. I’ll see you there.’

‘Farewell,’ Samuel bade, as Eric left to see his latest girlfriend and Samuel returned to his studies.

Eric Pot was not the least impressed by interesting facts. Eric Goodfellow would prove more attentive and so Samuel set out to find him.

CHAPTER FIVE

The Passing of Many Seasons

Giggling girls were darting all about, playing and dancing in such a strange and alluring way when, much to Samuel’s annoyance, someone began to shout and his dream was abruptly interrupted.

‘Quickly!’ came the shouting voice again. ‘Wake up!’

Groans and noises came from all around and then Samuel winced as the room lit up with mage-lights. He put one hand over his face and rubbed his tired eyes while he slowly worked on how to open them.

‘What’s happening?’ someone asked, calling down from the balcony.

‘Hurry and dress,’ the voice called back up from downstairs. ‘Everyone is needed at once. Come outside as quickly as you can.’

Samuel managed to struggle into his clothes and he stumbled outside with the others, where the cold wind harassed them indignantly. An Adept was waiting there, with his mage-light hovering over his head, while the apprentices from every dormitory formed a group before him.

‘Is this everyone?’ the Adept asked. ‘Good. Follow me quickly to the docks. There has been an accident and everyone has been summoned to assist however they can. Quickly, follow me.’

With that, Samuel’s interest was aroused, for he wondered what could have happened but, as they hurried out of the School of Magic and down the damp, stone streets towards the harbour, the Adept could answer none of