Maude said, “I remember her well. Small, bald as an egg, and about eleven. She needed directions, and if it is any of your business, she needed silver for her travel expenses. She had several crates on her ship containing books and rare ingredients from a sorceress who passed on. I must say that it appeared someone had intentionally spilled and broken much of it so I couldn’t pay her want she wanted, but I did what I could and sent her on her way.”
The mage waved Jam back. “So, you do know her.”
“Know her? No, I conducted one very small item of business with the girl. If you would like to see the spoils, I’ll show them to you.” Maude continued knitting.
“Where did she go when she left here?” the mage demanded, recovering slightly and trying to put a threat in his tone.
Maude said, without looking up, “I’ll give you the same answer as I’ll give the next person to enter here and ask about where you went. I didn’t ask. It was none of my business. I won’t ask where you’re going either. Please close the door gently on your way out.”
Jam was still protesting when the mage grabbed him by his shirt sleeve and pulled him out the door. However, Jam shouted that they hadn’t seen or heard the last from him.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Prin and Sara exchanged relieved looks as the door quietly closed behind Jam and the mage.
Maude said, “Something bothers me, Prin. You are the fourth in line to the crown, you said. Why is that so important to the others who are sending assassins after you? I’m not diminishing what you’re saying, but trying to understand.”
“One of them behind me is determined to be queen or king instead of me. It’s that simple.”
“But . . . you are number three, behind the present king. That means four people must die,” Maude protested. “Four. It would make more sense if you were number two, or the next in line.”
“Oh, I see what you mean,” Prin said. “The others in front of me will refuse because of age, illness, and whatever. I have vowed not to abstain. I will accept, although I don’t know much about it.”
Maude took up her knitting again as said, “Thank you. Now it makes more sense. You are officially number four in line, but in reality, you are next. If you die, number five on your list becomes the next king.”
“Or queen,” Prin said. “She is the one I suspect has offered the rewards and had my father murdered. But, there is more of the tangled web. Should I have three children, each of them would rise to the next to be king or queen, so the one below me on the list, and her family would be pushed away until they stand no chance of being crowned. If I have ten children, the one who wants me dead would then be eleventh, and if one of my children has a child . . . well, I really don’t know what happens then.”
“Brice will sail there and back as fast as the ships will travel, which is months from now for his first trip, but there are friends in Indore you’ve made, and others that he will. How will you know who to trust when you return there?” Maude asked.
“Brice will tell us?”
Maude said, “But you may not recognize them from his description. I have another idea I’ve already mentioned. What if Brice wears a ring that I have cast an enchantment upon? When someone places it on their finger, it will leave a trace that the three of us can see. A glow. We will know to trust that person.”
Sara said, “The idea sounds interesting, but how will Brice do that?”
“If he trusts someone, he will ask them to wear his ring, so we’ll know them.”
“Like El,” Prin said.
“But we already know El,” Sara protested.
Prin said, “There will be others. Do you know what would be better, Maude?”
“Tell me, child.”
“If we could have others see the trace the ring leaves. I mean, other sorceresses. A secret just between all of us for who to trust. If a sorceress in Indore meets a person from Gallium, Sandor, or even Queens gate, and that person has the mark . . .” Prin waited for the reason why the suggestion wouldn’t work.
Instead, Maude leaped to her feet and rushed into her workshop.
Sara threw her head back and said, “Jam is a problem we need to resolve.”
“We can’t hurt him,” Prin said. No sooner were the words out of her mouth than the door slammed open and Prin’s combat instructor limped inside.
“We have work to do.” His bony finger pointed to the rear door.
“We’ve already done it today.”
“Don’t make me drag you out there by that mane of hair.”
Prin stood and raced to the door, ducking behind a bush and darting to another before he appeared. A low branch in a tree provided a foothold, and she levered herself up. Before he came outside, she had managed to climb higher and spread herself on a large limb where it would be difficult to see her from the ground, very much like a lion or a panther resting in the middle of the day.
He stood in the doorway and said, barely loud enough to hear, “So you want to play games today? This may cause you a few extra bruises, young lady.”
She didn’t move.
He did a full turn, his eyes darting from one end of the garden to another. Then he began a systematic search, all four corners and all between . . . but not up. After nearly a half hour, he went back to the door and raised his voice, “I will not put up with witchcraft hiding you. I will ask Maude to locate you and maybe use a switch on your bottom for your disrespect.”
As he started to turn and go inside, she called, “And if it is not witchcraft but just a good job of hiding from you? A weaker fighter escaping a stronger one?”
Without turning back, he called, “Then I shall pour your tea for you today. There are times when running or hiding is your best option.”
She climbed down and ran inside where he waited. “Why will you pour my tea?”
He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Because you’re learning. I’m older, better trained and stronger. Only an idiot chooses to fight knowing he is going to lose or die. If you’ve learned there are times not to fight, I consider that I’ve done an exceptional job of teaching.”
Prin said, “But you’re here to teach me how to win a fight.”
“No, I’m here to teach you how not to lose.” He poured a cup of tea and spooned sugar and a dribble of goat milk before handing it to her. Then he fixed his own and sat beside her. “You don’t like me, much.”
“No.”
“That’s good. At least, at first. I think it’s time to change things up a mite. Sara needs to learn to protect you—and herself. But I wanted to work only with you at the beginning. Tomorrow she will join us, and I’ll yell and scream while she does the hard work.”
Sara said, “You do know that I’m sitting right across from you and hearing all you say.”
He half-turned. “Have you any objections?”
“I was upset that you left me out, at first. But after I saw how you treated Prin I was glad,” She said.
He continued, “But you wish to learn.”
Sara said, “Just before you arrived today, a nemesis named Jam busted in here with a mage in tow. A day may come when I must defeat him in a fight. But there are others who would do us harm, and I want to fight them if they come. No, I want to defeat them.”