her up. Truth be told I hadn’t figured out how to move it yet, I’d had enough trouble working out how to turn it off last night when I tried it the first time.
Everything looked strange in the harsh white light, it cast shadows that made her face seem strange. The worst part was the fear I saw in her eyes. I could only imagine what I must look like in the glare. “Now you see why I had such trouble telling you?” I tried to smile, to put a familiar face on, to reassure her, but that only made it worse. She was backing away, edging toward the door.
“Wait Penny, this isn’t as bad as you think. Here, let me put out this light, then I’ll try and explain better.” I gestured at the light, “Haseth” The light went out abruptly plunging the room into relative darkness since our eyes were still accustomed to the glare.
I heard her give out a yelp and then there was a loud thump. That would be the divan I’ll wager. There was a loud knock and the door flew open.
Marc stomped into the room, “Alright you slugabed, its high time you got up! If you sleep any longer… huh?” Penny ducked past him and ran from the room. My eyes were finally adjusting to the dimmer light and I could see Marc staring at me from the doorway. I’ll be the first to admit things didn’t look good. The bed was a complete mess, with blankets still on the floor. The divan had flipped over onto its side. I knew it was the divan, I thought to myself.
“Was that Penny?” he asked turning in a circle.
Oh damn! I knew it had to be her he was talking about last night, and this looks bad. My thoughts were racing, “It isn’t what it appears.”
“And what would that be? That you’re chasing the staff around your bedroom with the curtains drawn in the middle of the day?” He seemed a bit miffed but not nearly as much as I would have been if I thought someone was poaching my game. “Listen Mort, I know known Penny a long time but she’s been through a lot recently. You shouldn’t give her a hard time. I meant to tell you this earlier but she lost her Ma not long back and since then…”
Obviously I was destined to travel from one misunderstanding to the next in this life. “No, no, no! I was explaining my situation to her and it upset her.” It took almost ten minutes to describe what had happened. It would have been quicker but he has a bad habit of interrupting.
“So you came straight back here and immediately ignored our promise to wait?” He was shaking his head.
“That pretty well sums it up,” I said this with my most charming smile.
“You understand I had to tell my father that we were up drinking late last night and you passed out from an excess of wine?” he replied, pointedly ignoring my overwhelming charisma.
That took the wind out of my sails, “He probably thinks I’m a drunkard now eh?”
“I doubt that Mort, but he certainly thinks you can’t handle your wine,” he gave me an evil grin. “Come on, I told Father I’d fetch you up before our noble guests start arriving.” Since I was already dressed we headed for the door, but I did pause to set the divan back on its legs.
As we left he turned to me, “And if I ever find you chasing Penny around your chambers again I’ll toss you out on your ass. The other maids I might forgive, but Penny is special.”
“Dammit I told you that’s not what happened!”
Marc winked at me, “I know, it’s just fun to see you get flustered. You know, now that I think on it… if it had been some other maid, I don’t think the misunderstanding would have bothered you nearly as much.”
“What’s that supposed to mean,” I snapped back.
“Nothing my friend, nothing at all.” He put his arm around my shoulders as we walked down the hall. Well he tried; I’m still taller, so he had to settle for thumping me between the shoulders.
Chapter 5
Rarely, some are born with a moderate to high emittance but with a low capacitance. This trait occurs with no more frequency than one in a hundred. Those born with it usually do not become aware of it until puberty, when their bodies begin to mature, although occasionally it becomes active even earlier. The primary trait found in those with a high emittance is known to the common folk as ‘the sight’. This refers to their ability to sense and see things of a purely magical nature. They sometimes manifest precognitive abilities or other forms of prescience and clairvoyance. Most become mystics, soothsayers, and fortune tellers. Some enter the clergy or priesthoods of various religions as their ability allows them to channel the powers of their gods. Thus are born the legends of ‘saints’. Such would likely have been my own destiny if fate and my own intellectual curiosity had not interfered.
My audience with the Duke had gone much as I’d expected. He made light of my late sleeping, passing it off as the ‘excess of youth’, but I was still sure I had disappointed him. In any case he made sure that I was aware that he and the Duchess both were colluding in misrepresenting my social status. As Marc had said earlier, I was to represent myself as a traveling scholar and avoid questions as to my exact place in society; they for their part would divert questions by remarking that I was a distant cousin of some sort.
Looking back I cannot help but wonder at their nonchalance at deceiving so many people about my social standing. It seems incredible from the standpoint of a lowly blacksmith’s son, but when I consider it from their lofty station it makes a bit more sense. It quite literally was no big deal to them; the Lancasters were second in rank only to the royal family itself. Who would gainsay them? Who would bother to question the rank of an unknown scholar? And if the truth should out, what of it? They could pass it off as a minor joke and the worst consequence might be some ruffled feathers. For my part, it scared the living shit out of me, and I felt as if I had my neck on the executioners block.
I took a free moment that afternoon to continue reading and do some experimentation. One of the more interesting things Vestrius had learned early in his apprenticeship was a spell to put others into a magical slumber. Apparently it was a simple feat and one taught early because of its general usefulness. It could be used defensively against men and beasts or to escape from delicate situations. It also had the advantage of plausible deniability, assuming that all the witnesses were included in the effect. Grummond made a point of telling Vestrius that it would have no effect on ‘stoics’ but I had yet to find out what that meant.
I set out to find a suitable target for experimentation. I initially considered Marcus or Dorian but I put that idea aside. I was still uncertain of my abilities and I didn’t want to risk putting them into some sort of permanent coma. I settled for sitting at the window and attempting to put birds to sleep. My first target was a blackbird that was kind enough to land on the windowsill.
I focused my will and looked at the bird, “Shibal.” It collapsed as though someone had struck it with a well- aimed stone. I watched it for several minutes to see if it would waken. It didn’t. The spell was supposed to last a while, depending upon how much power the caster put into it, but I had no idea if the size of the creature was a factor. I tried waking the bird with loud noises but it remained stubbornly asleep. I was pretty sure that was not normally the case with sleeping birds. Finally I picked it up and made sure it was still breathing. It seemed to be fine, with the exception of being a very sound sleeper. I tried shaking it a bit and then I poked it.
“Ow! Shit!” the bird woke and promptly bit my finger. It flew around the room for several minutes while I chased it, trying to herd it toward the open window. Eventually it found the exit and I sat down to consider what I had learned. I definitely wouldn’t be bringing more birds into the room, my finger was still throbbing painfully.
I decided to try again, this time on something further away. I spotted a hawk circling overhead. “Shibal.” The bird faltered for a moment but quickly recovered. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the distance or whether it was more difficult to put it to sleep because it was flying. I drew myself inward mentally and focused my intention on the bird, “Shibal!” The hawk dropped from the sky like a stone. I felt more than heard the hard ‘whump’ as it hit the stone courtyard. Bollocks! I killed it. I quickly drew back from the window, lest someone see me and make the connection. The story of the burning of the college in Albamarl had left an impression on me.
