The Knight pointed as if his finger always knew the way to the King’s Palace no matter where he went, or where the sun stood. Hannah also noted that he pointed instead of speaking. The sorceress and her last words had upset him, perhaps because he had believed he had fooled her, but more likely because he didn’t know what gave him away or what danger might come from similar mistakes. Hannah decided to let him stew about it. He seemed to know everything and was always in charge. Even at her age, she understood humility.
Later, he said, “How did she know I’m not a mage? She believed me until the end.”
“The green fire,” Hannah answered shortly. “When she mixed the powder for the ‘no see us’ spell, the mixture turned to green flames that almost covered her hands. I reacted because I thought it would burn her, but you did not.”
He rode a few steps before speaking out loud to himself, “Then she also knows you are a mage.”
Hannah didn’t respond. What Evelyn saw didn’t fit with what she knew and would wonder about it. Hannah couldn’t be a mage because she was a girl. The logical answer for the sorceress to believe said that the child with the King’s Knight pretended to be a girl, but must be a boy in hiding. If the facts do not fit the circumstances, and the facts cannot be changed, then the circumstances must change.
She considered a convoluted line of thought as she rode. Her horsemanship had increased so much she could think of other things as she rode, instead of how to remain seated. Being a mage involved changing facts and allowing others to change the circumstances to fit. If she tossed an egg high into the air and it disappeared the facts said it would fall to the ground. If it did not, the conclusions would be that either she didn’t throw it into the air, or it was not an egg, or they hadn’t seen where it landed.
As the day wore on, they rode quickly, mostly downhill, until they found a dirt road; twin tracks for wagon wheels. Hannah wanted to ride on it and move faster to escape any bounty hunters. The Knight shook his head.
“It’s going the right way,” she argued. “The afternoon sun is on our face.”
“We’ll find a path going the same way and use it.”
His sharp retort left no room to argue. Hannah crossed the road and in time found a wide path that ran parallel to the road. The middle was barren of plant life and covered with the tracks of animals, including shod horses. She turned to look at Sir James to see if he noticed.
He smiled at her. “I know where we are, in general terms. I also know there are road agents and bands of thieves in these hills. The local sheriff does little to stop them unless they interfere with the delivery of ale to his favorite pub.”
She didn’t return the smile. Instead, she said, “I would expect one of the King’s Knights to speak to the local sheriff about that. I think that would be you I’m talking about.”
He chuckled. “Your expectations are correct, and it should have been resolved two years ago. On my next pass through this part of the kingdom I intend to speak to him, or his successor, if he refuses to perform his appointed job the way the King wishes it done. What I didn’t expect was to have an eleven-year-old tell me how to perform my duties.”
“I’m almost twelve.”
“So you keep reminding me as if it makes a difference. Now, speak less and watch our surroundings more. Ruffians, thieves, and highwaymen use this road. Many of them from the condition of the path, but it is still safer than the road. Out there, will be killers from other provinces with pockets filled with coins with your name on them. They won’t know this back way.”
“We have the two spells the sorceress gave us.”
“Both of which we are grateful for, however, both have limitations, if they even work. The confusion ‘grapes’ work only after an enemy is so close he will breathe the blue smoke. But what if there are five of them, and two of those five remain at a distance, so they do not breathe the blue smoke? The ‘no see us’ powder is much the same. We could use it now, but it wears off as the dust blows away or washes off in rain or water.”
“So you believe in the sorceress?”
“I believe most of them are fakes, but the pink dots you saw are something unknown to all. Yes, I think I believe in her, and her spells.”
Hannah rode on, watching ahead, behind, and to both sides. Her ears pricked with the slightest snap of a twig or call of a bird. What Sir James said made perfect sense. Worse, she had only seen the benefits of the spells, not the drawbacks. Sir James had understood instantly, and he was not a mage.
Finally, she said, “The spells might help us, but we don’t want to depend on them. They are almost worthless. That’s what you’re saying, right?”
“Sort of, my princess. To my thinking, both of them will be of great value if we are in danger of capture. For us, not being captured and not using the spells is our best option. Speaking of that, we do need a better story for any we encounter. The King will pay a handsome ransom for me so a gang of highwaymen might try to get rich by taking me, but the problem is that you are just a child, and the easiest solution for them is to get rid of you.”
“So you want me to make up a lie?”
Again he laughed. “No, I thought that we should make up a story together that people might believe, so they don’t think me a knight, or wealthy.”
Hannah said, “Tell what story you like, but your expensive clothes and courtly manners give you away. You are not a blacksmith, storekeeper, weaver, or a farmer. You carry weapons and are a soldier to any eyes.”
“Then the part of a soldier, I will play. You are in my protective custody. It is you we have to lie about. What is your tale?”
She hesitated before speaking. “Well, I’m the daughter of someone important, but if he’s too important, they will want money in exchange for me. I need to be just a little important.”
“But important enough to put a scare into them. We were talking about the local sheriff a while ago. What if you are the runaway daughter of the Sheriff of Wittington? He’s known for his anger and fierce punishments. They say that he once hung a thief to a tree… by his feet. He fed and watered him for eleven days before the poor man died, then he left the thief’s body hanging there for eleven more days as a warning to others.”
Hannah swallowed before saying, “Is that true?
“Not a word, but what petty criminal would tamper with his daughter?”
“And you will gladly spread the tale?”
“Some say I do talk too much.”
Hannah laughed at that. If anything, the man was one of the quietest she’d ever been around. She said, “Tell me more about my father. Not the Sheriff, the other.”
“He was a good man. A kind man. Unlike most, he held a fierce sense of right and wrong. The Old Mage would, and did, stand up to our King when he believed in some cause or process. He refused to do the King’s bidding when he believed it wrong, but when he though the King was right, your father would die before quitting.”
“He was older than my mother.”
“Yes, much older. When I was your age, the Old Mage already grew his famous white hair. My father said the same to me, so I think he was older than my father’s father. Quite old, but of course, he was a mage who knows how long they live?”
“My mother?”
“I never knew her other than to dance with her at a ball one time. Her feet were as light as air. She also possessed high morals that didn’t flinch even in a windstorm. For her, the world was black or white, as was everything in it. Right and wrong, and no in between. She would never relent on a belief, and that’s where the two of them parted twelve years ago. She held one belief about magic being wrong for the world. He the opposite. When neither could give in to the other, they parted forever.”