“Power. Jealousy. Revenge to get even with me. Many reasons, none of them your fault.”
She watched the forest pass by the carriage and then let her vacant eyes shift to the road ahead while thinking. She saw him watching her from the corner of her eye, letting her reason it out, and she appreciated his consideration. What he probably wanted to know was if his newly found daughter was a dunce or capable of reasoning out a problem. “If there are several reasons, that still does not tell me, who is responsible.”
Chuckling, he adjusted himself in the seat. “Now, that is a question, isn’t it? Who indeed? My first guess would be that the junior mage assigned to the Earl is deeply involved. He wants the power I possess, and the respect others give to me, let alone the gold they pay for my services. He wants it all because he is ambitious, and that is why I assigned him to this backwater years ago. I wanted him out of my hair, at least until he ages and understands matters of the world. But there are forces arrayed against the Earl, as well as against our King. My advice and spells are in demand by both, but royal intrigue is a way of life for some.”
“That has nothing to do with me. I just tend fires in a morning kitchen.”
As she watched, the two soldiers riding horses at the front of their procession stiffened as one. The man on the left quietly slid down and out of his saddle as if he had lost all the bones in his body. The other spun to face them with an attempted shout of warning, an arrow protruding from his chest. Another arrow struck him near his neck, and he also tumbled from the saddle.
The Mage leaped to his feet, arms held wide. Balls of blue swirling fire ignited in his palms, each the size of an apple. As that happened, a dozen screaming men rushed at them from the underbrush on both sides of the road, swords raised and flashing in the sunlight. The Mage threw first one ball of fire, then the other. Each struck a charging figure and exploded in a flare of intense blue fire, each explosion taking down two or three more men, all of whom laid still.
Hannah looked behind the carriage. The two guards back there were fighting off four more attackers, but already two of the attackers had fallen, and the guards were about to slay the last two. She turned her attention ahead again, finding the Mage had thrown more blue fire, and more men lay still, but more ragged attackers rushed from the underbrush, brandishing knives, swords, or clubs.
The Mage pushed her down on the floor as he muttered an incantation. At the conclusion of the short utterance, he snapped his empty hands forward, his face set in a rigid expression. The attackers screamed and dropped their weapons. Most turned their attention to their palms, crying and howling in pain. From her position on the floor, Hannah saw dirty gray smoke rising from the empty hands of more than one man, their weapons also emitted faint puffs of smoke.
But not one of them still held a weapon. Only the two knights from behind, who were charging forward on horseback held weapons, and those swords in their hands were already swinging downward when the Mage tossed a lap-blanket over her head.
“Don’t watch this, Hannah.”
She didn’t peek, but couldn’t close her ears. She heard screams and grunts, and she imagined the slashing swords from the backs of the horses. The whinnying of the horses, the swish of swinging swords, and the painful cries of men with hands that burned all mixed into a chorus of sounds too chaotic to follow. She heard the wet-sounding strikes of the guard’s heavy blades, and a short time after, the limp bodies of men falling to the ground, some still crying out in pain.
It was over in the time it takes to draw a few short breaths. She felt the lurch of the carriage as it moved ahead. The Mage said, “We’re safe for now, Hannah, but don’t take that blanket off just yet, it’s not pretty out here, and certainly not a sight for young eyes.”
His voice came from a distance further away. Hannah heard the snap of the whip and the jingle of trace chains. The horses nickered and pulled. Hannah did as he ordered. The blanket stayed on her head, and she listened to a few words exchanged between the two guards, and then the Mage said, “Up there, around the bend.”
Hooves stamped, and the carriage bounced and squeaked. Finally, it pulled to a stop. “You can take the blanket off, now.”
Hannah tore it off as if its smell offended her. She could see nothing from the floor so without asking for permission she leaped to her feet and turned a full circle. There were no attackers in sight, only forest. Two of the guards were missing, and so was the carriage driver. She spotted the pool of blood drying where the driver had sat.
“Scared?” the Mage asked.
“No. I should be, I guess, but you’re here, and that makes me feel safe.”
“I’ll drive the carriage, now. An arrow killed our driver, one aimed at me, I suspect. Others killed our two guards at the front, both of them longtime friends of mine.” He sounded distracted, “You can ride up front with me or stay where you are.”
Hannah scrambled over the back of the seat and used the blanket to wipe the blood. “Was it horrible?”
“It was, and I lost three dear friends and protectors. It’s a sad day. Those guards have been with me for over a year and the driver for ten. We’ll say words of worship to help them on their next journey when we have time.”
“You left them back there?”
“As they would wish. We could do no more than place them together and fold their arms across their chests, as was done. They would expect no more, given the circumstances.”
Hannah glanced at the two remaining guards, at their blood-splattered uniforms, sallow faces and wild eyes. One hand held blades still ready with sword-breakers in their off hand. Before making the smallest move, Hannah wanted to inform them of it and wait for their response until they calmed. She sat closer beside the Mage, all signs of their cheery conversation long past.
Hannah said, “They dropped their swords, and their hands caught fire.”
“I’m sorry you saw that.”
“The swords were iron. Magic doesn’t work on iron, or not very well, you said.”
Picking up the reigns and slapping the two horses’ rumps to draw their attention, he ordered them ahead. He’d driven more than one carriage from the looks of his skill. He glanced at Hannah from the side of his eye. “You listen well. They wrapped the handles in strips of leather. A rare wood called Yew made the bows. The knives had handles made of bone or antler. All those things emanated from the living and therefore easier to manipulate.”
Hannah rode in silence, sensing the Mage wanted the same. Her eyes darted from one side of the road to the other, searching for more danger. Attackers could leap out again at any turn. She ignored the hills in the distance, the puffy clouds in the sky, and smells of a forest growing older by the day. When one of the horses relieved itself, she couldn’t help but look for Cleanup to do his job.
She looked at the fine, beautiful carriage, the embroidered purple robe the Mage wore, the gold trim and rings on his fingers. Each ring held stones of different colors. A gold chain circled his neck; a black pendant hung to his chest. Then she looked down at her tattered and dirty shift, a dress made for someone else long ago. Two strips of material, one over each shoulder, held it on her. The color was the color of the dirt in the palace yards, the material thick, course, and patched.
“Will I ever go back?” she asked.
“Perhaps. But if and when you do, it will be different. Far different.”
“Because they’ll know I’m your daughter?”