“No. Because each person back there will know you as a woman mage. The first I’ve ever heard of. That alone puts your life at risk. People do not accept new things easily, new or different, and you are certainly that.”
“I’m no mage,” she snorted in disbelief.
“Not yet, but at your age, you already control fire. That’s the first law, the first test of a mage. Only mages can make fire, and it usually takes years of training for most of us, and always the boys training as mages are far older than you, usually at least fifteen and nearly full grown. You do it after teaching yourself at only eleven. I suspect you may become a far better mage than me, perhaps one of the greats.”
“Why are there no women mages?” Hannah asked, her tone defensive. “That’s unfair.”
The Mage snorted, as he might in amused laughter, but no trace of humor showed in his eyes. He said, “Because women are better than men in almost every way. We men only deal with physical changes in the world. Women deal with the ethereal.”
“I don’t know what that is.”
“While a mage can make a fire with his finger, or most of us can, a woman deals with the otherworldly. They forecast the future, influence animals directly, and cast spells on people via a love potent and the like. More than one king has married because of a similar spell cast upon him, and there are other ways to use a good potent. Some are for anger or hate. Any emotion, if the woman is skilled.”
“You see that as better?” Hannah asked, calmer now, but still curious.
“I would ask you the same question, in return. Which would you prefer? The ability to light a campfire or candle with a flame from your finger, or to know what will happen to you tomorrow? Or to know whom you will marry? Or even have the means to influence who it will be that marries you?”
“How would I know which is better?” She lifted her chin, suspecting she had won her first argument with him.
“I’d ask one final question on the subject. Given the choice between a fat, lazy peasant with foul breath, or a handsome young prince, which would you choose if you had the ability? That should provide all the answer you require on the subject.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Hannah had wanted to laugh at the suggestion that she might become a female mage. But she hadn’t heard the inference of humor in her father’s voice and didn’t believe him in a mood to jest. She looked to the nearest guard, the one riding directly beside her, now, protecting her with his body and life. She mouthed to him silently, “Me?”
He nodded solemnly, then turned back to watch for danger.
Hannah rode quietly, reviewing all the Old Mage said since they left the palace, combining facts and words in different ways while trying to understand the immensity of what had happened so far. Instinctively, she knew that much had not yet been said between them. The problem was that her mother had promised her knowledge—then died. That wouldn’t happen again. She wanted to know it all. Now.
“Do you feel like talking?” She asked softly.
“No.”
“Well, I understand that, but there are things I need to know.” Hannah felt her cheeks grow pink. What right do I have to speak to the Old Mage like that? Just because I believe, he is my father?
“What is it you want?” His voice sounded weary, tired and sad. His eyes looked ready to weep.
She refused to relent. She’d lost one opportunity to learn the information she wanted, and after the attack, she understood that if another came and the Old Mage died, so would her only source of information. “I think I understand some of the reasons for the attack, but what I don’t know is who was behind it. Somebody paid those men. I recognized at least two of them from the tavern when I sat at the window outside and listened to the music, and they work for hard coin. They have no personal aims in life but to earn enough coin to drink ale and whore until they pass out.”
The Mage cast her another surprised look but held his tongue.
She continued chatting as if discussing the bright yellow flowers growing in the next field they passed. “That means somebody put enough coins in their purses to kill us.”
“Meaning?” he asked.
“Well, it was not a worker at the inn or poor person who did that. Whoever paid them, had enough coins to pass around to ten or eleven men, enough money for them to risk their lives over. How many people in the palace have that amount?” Hannah set her jaw with conviction and crossed her arms over her chest.
The Mage pulled the carriage to a stop and turned to the two guards. “One of you go back there and search every one of the men. Bring me every coin you find.”
“And find a sharp knife and scabbard that will fit my hand, if you will,” Hannah added, as if she had any right to give orders.
“I’ll handle that,” the nearer of the two guards said, unbuckling a wide leather belt with a knife and scabbard attached. The guard was old enough to have streaks of white in his beard, but his mannerisms were those of someone younger. He held it out to her. “My father gave me this when I was about your age.” He turned to the younger guard, “Seth, see if you can find anything back there that will do for me until we get to a weapons-master. Now go search them.”
The younger guard nodded and spun his horse and trotted off. Hannah looked at the belt. She saw the different color of the leather where the buckle rubbed and the elongated hole and knew it would be so long she would tie the end in a knot to make it fit. But the row of holes ran half way around the belt. She put it around her waist and found the last hole fit her perfectly.
The blade was shorter than she expected when she pulled it but made of fine steel and sharper any she’d ever touched, including all the knives in the kitchen. At the end of the handle, a protective bar guarded her hand against slipping to the blade.
She looked at him. “Are you sure? This is too nice.”
“I should have replaced it with one that better fits my big hand years ago, but I wanted to remember my father with it. Now I’ll know it’s in good hands.”
The Mage gave the guard a wink she was not supposed to see. He asked, “Sir James, you don’t have to do that. Suppose she just borrows it until we reach the King’s castle?”
“I insist,” The guard said. He used the edge of his sword to slice off the extra length of the belt and adjusted it to fit better, making his gift permanent.
“Is it wrong for me to accept this?” Hannah asked.
“Wrong?” the Mage questioned in surprise, then quickly continued, “It is a great honor. Sir James is probably the most famous knight in the land. The King knighted him in front of half the population after the battle of Sizemore, which most say he almost won single-handedly. He wore that blade in the battle.”
Hannah looked at it with reverence, then started to unbuckle the belt to hand it back. The Mage said softly, “Do not insult him by refusing to accept his gift.”
“He is a Knight?” Hannah asked.
“Oh, more than that. Sir James is often appointed as the King’s Hand, which means what he does is considered the same as if the King did it with his hand.”
“If he’s so important, why is he guarding you?”
The Mage and Knight shared a half smile. Sir James answered first, “Because we have been friends for many years. Besides, this gets me out of the castle and lets me stretch my legs. We had no idea they would attack, or that there was any danger.”
Hannah asked, “Then why not go back to the palace where all the Earl’s guards are so you’ll be safe?”
The Mage sighed. “Because I suspect you are the reason for the attack and some of those guards back there are being paid by two purses. A daughter of mine changes things because I am also a prince of the royal line who could one day wear the King’s crown. I’d refuse it, but I can’t deny I’m born royalty. And your mother was never a servant of the Earl, was she?”