The Young Magician (The Legacy Trilogy) (52 page)

‘Thank you,’ Samuel told them.

He rode home while the night was still early. There was little to do once Leila had gone and he found that the other people of the village, apart from the kindly old Lukes, were not very enthusiastic to converse with him. When he stepped back into the cottage, he found Simpson and his wife were still awake.

‘This is an early hour to be home, Samuel,’ Mrs Down said with concern.

‘Aye,’ Samuel returned sadly. ‘I think it may take a bit longer for some of the village folk to get used to me.’

‘Oh, dear,’ she said, shaking her head.

‘You’d think they’d have more to concern them than you,’ Simpson declared. ‘With their farms and families to worry over, they would do well to welcome you into their arms, especially with all this talk of thieves about at the moment.’

Samuel looked up. ‘Thieves?’

‘So I hear. They have been chased up by the Count’s men and have been hiding in the woods to the east. No one goes in there except the odd woodsman and trapper, but they’ve been seen lurking around at night—up to no good.’

‘Well, we shouldn’t need to worry,’ Samuel said. ‘By the way, Mr and Mrs Luke said to pass you their fond greetings and asked for us all to drop by some time.’

‘Oh, that’s lovely,’ Mrs Down said. ‘It’s been so long since we had time to go visiting.’

Simpson nodded his assent and tapped his pipe out onto the table edge. ‘That would be a fine idea,’ he said.

Samuel went to bed early that night with the face of the captivating girl, Leila, in his mind.

Samuel had formulated a plan to meet with Leila that next morning. He rode into town and tied Jess up in the square before walking the short distance to the Sallow house. He knocked on the front door, heart in his throat, and was relieved when a surprised Leila opened it.

‘What are you doing?’ she whispered fearfully, looking back over her shoulder. ‘Father is here. He’ll be furious if he sees you.’

‘Where is he?’ Samuel whispered.

‘In his study.’

‘Show me,’ Samuel instructed.

Leila said
no
with her eyes, but Samuel squeezed his way past her. She darted ahead and pointed to a closed door beside some stairs at the end of the hall.

‘Who is it, Leila?’ came Manfred’s voice from within.

Samuel closed his eyes and concentrated, at once feeling the energy of her father in the next room. He quickly entered the man’s consciousness and set a spell. When he was done, Samuel opened his eyes and smiled at Leila. She looked terribly anxious.

‘He’s asleep,’ Samuel explained.

‘What did you do?’ she asked with some concern.

‘Don’t fret. He was tired anyway. I suggested your father take a short nap and he seemed to find the idea attractive.’

Leila pushed open the door, peeked in, and then went over to her sleeping father.

‘You can wake him if you want,’ Samuel expressed. ‘He’s only sleeping.’

Samuel was worried that she would be horrified. Instead, Leila giggled and waved her hand before her father’s face.

‘You
are
a magician,’ she laughed.

‘Yes. I told you so,’ Samuel said.

She grabbed Samuel’s hand and led him into the reading room where they sat down together.

‘You can’t imagine how I’ve dreamed of someone to come and take me away from Father.’

‘I’m not about to do that,’ Samuel protested.

‘We
could
,’ she implored.

‘I have work to do here for the time being. Don’t you think it would be best to reason with your father?’

‘He’s beyond reason. He thinks he’ll marry me to some ancient merchant in Gilgarry, but I’ll
die
before that happens.’

‘Don’t do that. To waste such beauty would be a horrible thing.’

Her cheeks flushed, but before she could say anything, Samuel put out his hand and cast a spell. A long, green stem sprouted up from his palm and then bright, red petals began popping into being at its top. Each grew larger, pushing together and folding outwards one by one. When he was done, Samuel had produced a slender glowing rose, woven from light and tied with magic. He quickly adjusted the spell so that Leila could hold and move it, making it feel a little like a solid creation. It was radiant and shimmering and perfect—a mingling of several common spells, yet Leila found it breathtaking. She gasped and kissed Samuel on the cheek as he gave it to her.

‘It’s so beautiful!’ she said, and with a laugh, ‘It tickles!’

‘It’s made from magic. It’s a part of me, so to speak.’

‘How long will it last?’

‘Only a few days at the most,’ Samuel said. ‘But when you hold it, you will feel happy inside.’ Samuel was speculating entirely about that.

‘It’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. Thank you so much,’ she said as she turned the rose over in her hands. She kissed him again on the cheek, which was exactly what he was hoping for. ‘What other things can you do?’

‘Let’s not talk about that,’ Samuel insisted. ‘I’m not some performer sent to entertain you. I’d rather we just talked.’

A sincere smile settled on her face. ‘Samuel, you are so nice compared to the other people here. I hope you stay a long time.’

They sat together in the sitting room and talked far into the afternoon, until, with some panic, Samuel realised that Manfred could wake at any moment, for he felt his spell had waned, and he quickly kissed Leila goodbye and hurried out.

‘I’ll visit soon,’ he promised and she waved him goodbye, smiling so that her cheeks dimpled and the corners of her eyes seemed to turn up in a way that lifted Samuel’s heart.

Samuel felt light as he trotted down the street. He had never felt like this before and he felt more like a child now than ever, laughing to himself foolishly. He was glad he was not in Cintar now, for he would not really want his peers to see him in such a state.

Leila’s father often travelled to Gilgarry and so, from that point on, Samuel and Leila would arrange to meet in a glade by the river. Samuel looked forward to each short tryst and always dreaded leaving. They held hands and the first time they truly kissed, Samuel feared he might explode from excitement. He thought he was discovering a new direction in which to apply his studies, a whole new direction of life that he had never before experienced or even imagined, and one at which he planned to excel.

In the months that followed, people began to appear on the Downs’ doorstep, asking if Samuel could help them with a problem or two, for word had somehow spread that he had a way of helping with certain problems. They each left feeling healthier or stronger or more quick-witted as Samuel saw to their common ills and ailments—simple things they had no way to remedy in these parts.

Amusingly, each person, not wanting to become involved in village chatter, requested that the visit remain a secret. What perplexed Samuel the most was that these visitors often passed each other on the road up to the Downs’ house, so it was really no secret at all. Samuel overheard one fellow claiming how he had come ‘to visit old Simpson and have a chat’. When he entered the house, it was a fractured toe that was his true motivation and Samuel set a spell upon it that would soon set things right. With the numbers of visitors dropping in, Samuel thought it would not be long before a queue formed at the door.

He supposed that this is what his duty as a member of the Order really was, to help all the common folk, yet he found their attempts at secrecy humorous. Mrs Down declared it to be abominable and told Samuel it would serve them right to remain sick.

Winter took its good time coming, but they managed well on the farm. Simpson had money to spare and each day they led the animals down the hill into the valleys of the neighbouring farms and allowed them to drink their fill from the dams and small streams. When the rains began to return once more, Samuel spent much of his time with Leila. Somehow, they managed to keep the fact from her father, but Samuel dreaded the inevitable moment when Manfred would learn of their affair. Soon enough, the village folk would take notice, if they had not already, and then it was only a matter of time before word passed through enough tongues to reach her father’s ear. When that day came, they would deal with it as best they could. For now, they would enjoy every day together as much as they could.

The hills were coloured with flowers of every description as spring returned, but Samuel had little time to enjoy the sight. He was kept busy dealing with a wave of pneumonia that was sweeping the area. People from all around were coming to see Samuel and be cured. It was ironic that the people in these magic-fearing lands persecuted any magician that came wandering along, but now they had the chance to have their ailments seen to, they were all jumping at the opportunity.

Some things, however, were beyond even Samuel’s abilities. The ferocious summer was just getting started when a boy came galloping up the path towards the Down Farm early one morning, shouting loudly for Samuel. The lad had tears streaming down his face and asked that Samuel follow him back to the Luke Farm with all haste.

Jess, Empire-bred, easily outstrode the skinny gelding that bore the young messenger and Samuel was soon leaping from her back before the old farm house. The Luke children were waiting on the front steps, wailing and holding onto each other tightly.

‘We heard you might be able to help,’ said one young woman through her tears as she nursed her own small child. ‘Please let it be true.’

Samuel stepped into the farmhouse and found the room a broken mess. Mr and Mrs Luke were sprawled out on the floor. Mrs Luke had her arms folded across her chest and a strip of white cloth was placed over her eyes. She was plainly dead. Mr Luke was sitting against the wall in a pool of his own blood, with his blood-caked beard drooped over his chest, surrounded by several of his sons.

‘We found them this morning,’ one of them said. ‘It was the bandits. We’ve sent for the Count, but they’re probably deep in the woods again by now. They’ll be long gone before any of the Count’s men can get there.’

‘That doesn’t matter,’ Samuel stated as he knelt beside Mr Luke. The old man was very near death, with a deep wound in his chest and a great crack in his skull. His eyes looked blankly ahead and Samuel could virtually see the man’s life gushing out of him. ‘It’s very bad,’ Samuel stated plainly. ‘He has only a few moments left. I can only lessen his pain.’

Calming himself, Samuel pushed his senses into Mr Luke’s mind. He found himself surrounded by screaming streaks of agony and Samuel could only do his best to ease the old man’s pain. He could distantly feel the tears on his own cheeks as the old man’s memories began flashing before his eyes—moments of youth, happiness and sorrow all passing in fleeting images. There were only a few thin threads of life still in him, so Samuel withdrew to await the inevitable.

With his
sight
, Samuel half-expected to see the man’s final energies go soaring up to the heavens, but the final scraps of vitality around Mr Luke merely thinned and faded away. A few final tattered threads of life seemed to stretch out towards the body of his wife, like desperate, extended fingers, before they, too, thinned and surely disappeared.

Samuel climbed to his feet and left the building, while the sons gathered close around their father. ‘Where exactly are these woods?’ he asked the daughter on the front steps.

The path of the brigands was not difficult to follow. The woods were quite some way, but the ground had been freshly trodden by the passing of several horses and it served to mark a trail all the way there. Leaving the main path, Samuel followed the men along a narrow side track that led into the trees. Jess negotiated the narrow course well, and even seemed to evade low-hanging branches for her master.

Jess did all the things that Samuel expected from her, but she regarded Samuel as something of a pet—a rather annoying one that required too much attention. When Samuel sat atop her and urged her to ride, it was like a puppy scratching at the door to be let out. At any other time, he would have been amused by the thought, but right now, Samuel had only murder on his mind.

He continued for some time, occasionally having to stop to find the trail, but was deep within the woods when talking sounded nearby. He dropped silently from Jess’ soft, worn saddle. She was nervous and eyed the path from where they had come, and so Samuel reassured her anxious mind, suggesting she stay still until he returned for her.

Samuel crept a short distance and peered through the bushes towards the men. There were six of them, sitting around their makeshift camp, and Samuel thought at once that they looked somewhat strange. Their clothes were simple wrap-around pieces of cloth and they had dark skin, deeper even than Lomar’s. They had rings in their ears and noses and they seemed to be speaking in a guttural tongue that Samuel could not understand.

Listening to them laugh and carry on filled Samuel with anger. He was already furious that they had butchered the kind old couple, but the sight of them delighting in the fact only served to fuel his anger. He was full of rage and brimming with power as he stepped out into the clearing to face them. The thieves were taken completely by surprise as Samuel came out of the bushes towards them and, when he began to cast his spells, it must have seemed as if hell itself had opened its doors.