The Mage's Daughter 2: Book Two: Enlightenment Read online

  Sara said, “No, not yet, let’s remove the saddles and bridles and take what we want to carry with us. We’ll turn the horses loose. In our new lives, we don’t ride horses, and those following will be searching for a girl or two on horseback. If we’re going to do this, everything about us must change. Everything. We must be able to walk right past those chasing after you, and they’ll never suspect. If we do it right, we might even join in the search.”

  It took a little time to hide the saddles and bridles in a shallow overhang of rock. Prin regretted not selling them, but realized it was too great a risk for little return. The buyers would remember her and tell the tale in exchange for a share of the hunter’s gold. She had two new dresses that had never been worn. She cut the expensive material of the skirts into wide strips, then wrapped one around her head, neck, and under her chin. At the questioning look from Sara, she said, “Sunburn. Our scalps are pure white.”

  “Good idea. We’ll say it’s part of our culture from our homeland.”

  They spread the remainder of the contents of her leather bag on a blanket. She placed a few items in the leather bag to carry. She took everything from her father’s study and bedroom, especially the painting of her mother and father.

  Sara furrowed her eyebrows as Prin wrapped it before placing it in the leather satchel. “Can I look at that again?”

  “You’ve seen it,” Prin said. “But, sure, you can look again.”

  A more perplexed expression crossed Sara’s face. She said, “You look at it. Tell me what you see.”

  Prin turned it to face herself and gulped. The two people in the painting were no longer smiling. They looked worried, perhaps a little angry. “Their faces are different.”

  “I thought so, too.”

  “How? Is this why my father was called a great mage? He could do things like this?”

  Sara said, “They might reflect what you are thinking.”

  “Maybe. But I’m not sure. I think it is what they would believe if they were here. Don’t ask why I think that.”

  Sara looked intently at the painting from several angles. “I believe at least part of that picture was enchanted by a sorceress. Your mother, without a doubt. But there are other parts I’m unfamiliar with. The faces are telling us something.”

  “They made it together!” the girl who would be known as Prin shouted.

  “Are you angry?” Sara asked. “Like in the painting?”

  “No, I’m not. I’m scared and confused, but I guess I have reason to be angry if I thought about it. I just don’t think I am, and that’s why the painting isn’t a reflection of me.”

  “I wish I’d have known them,” Sara said, staring into the eyes of the woman in the picture.

  “Me too.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Prin and Sara walked side by side down the road until they reached a smaller path that branched off. They took it and continued on until reaching still another. Eventually, the two girls came to an overlook that afforded them a view of the entire valley, the sprawling city, and the vast river flowing down its center. Staying on the smaller paths gave them less chance of meeting others or being seen. They paused to rest, look, and learn something of what lay ahead.

  Sara perched on a fallen log and said, “I think there are more people in that valley than I’ve ever seen in my life.”

  “You mean, more people gathered in one place. I agree. It’s big.”

  “No. I mean, all together. If you take every person I’ve ever seen in my twenty years in my village, and place them in that valley together, it wouldn’t add up to half the number of what we’re seeing. I admit I’m scared.”

  “With so many people, it will be easier to hide.” Prin flashed a glance at the young woman she now called Sara. Hannah then remembered her new name was Prin. The changes were going to be hard to remember, but necessary. She considered Sara a mentor and all-knowing, but she realized in many ways, even at her young age, Prin was the more experienced of the two. She was more streetwise, more likely to react to threats or slights, and she could be sneaky or wheedling. Prin turned her attention back to the valley floor while thinking of her past—and her future.

  She counted over twenty wide, tree-lined streets built east to west. Forty or more streets ran perpendicular from the foothills all the way to the shore of the river. Even more buildings stood across the river, enough to comprise another city, although smaller and less opulent from the little she should make out. It appeared older and drab.

  Sara said, as if considering it for the first time, “Your enemies will be searching for you in every corner of the Kingdom of Wren. They will someday follow you here. It may be hard to believe, but I think we must stay in plain sight, yet not be seen. They will expect us to hide from them and they’ll look in those places where fugitives live behind closed doors, first. But who will look for people out strolling the streets and shopping?”

  “We’re not in our kingdom, don’t know what lies down there, and we do have a little time to prepare. But you’re right. We need to disguise ourselves from the very first, even while walking to the city. Give them no back-trail to follow.”

  Sara said, “I have another idea that might help. See that river down there? It has ships moored at the port. Big ones with tall sails. I’ll bet they travel down the river and maybe across a sea.”

  “Oh, I don’t think I could sail away to another land. Besides, they will follow me. If they come this far, a voyage is not going to slow them.”

  “Not necessarily so. Especially if we spread a small lie about a little blonde girl leaving on a ship while we remain here.”

  “I like that one,” Prin said. “The more of them that sails away to chase a ghost, the less remain to look for me.”

  Sara smiled and said, “Remember, we need a good story to tell people, or we’ll be discovered in days. We need to tell a tale that will keep them looking elsewhere. As I said earlier, if we do it well, we might even join in the hunt. That is the key to knowing what we’ve done is right.”

  “What kind of tale are you thinking about?”

  “Well, let’s see. We can pretend that we’ve just arrived from a strange land across the sea. Somewhere so far away that nobody had ever heard of it. We tell them that we sailed here on a ship. Let’s say that we’re the daughters of a wealthy merchant, and we’ll live right out in the open with nobody suspecting anything.”

  Prin returned the smile. “The daughters of a wealthy spice merchant trying to make our way in the business world by him looking for markets to sell and buy his new spices?” She paused, then in a stilted voice, continued as if speaking to a stranger. “In my homeland, we have strange customs, including shaving the heads of young girls. That story will also account for all that we do not know about this place. However, even a land with other customs won’t let an eleven-year-old be on her own.”

  “We need to make you thirteen. You’re almost twelve, so that isn’t much of a stretch, and every little bit of difference, every small change helps. Then our story will be almost perfect, but with a few changes. You won’t be on your own because you’re my younger sister. We’ll try to draw all attention to me. I’ll do the talking. And perhaps we’ll even find us a “father.” We just need a man we can trust to play the part.”

  Prin added, “Okay, we hint that as a spice merchant, our father is always searching for new products, so we move from city to city. We can also use that story to buy the supplies we need for learning our sorcery, and nobody will suspect. Maybe we can even find a place to do our studies in sorcery.”

  Sara said, “The story also gives us a reason to ask any questions without raising suspicions. We’re strangers, and they will be expected of us.”

  Prin said, “Which ship will we claim as ours?”

  “One that departed days ago. We will say that we spent five days traveling to the countryside to visit your aunt who is a hermit, that is why we are walking into the city now. Never tell a lie that can be verified
.” Sara shrugged as if her statement was common knowledge.

  Prin was glad she’d taken all the coins she had found in her father’s belongings and hid them in the little purse carried inside her waistband. She had never had gold or silver. Or copper, before her father had rescued her a few weeks ago. Now those coins were her future.

  More of his things filled the leather bag she carried, one of which was a pair of books she could not read, and a small diary written in his hand. And she also had the large tooth of an unknown animal and a bright little bead, a small red scroll, and the double-edged knife she found. She had strapped the knife to her thigh under her clothing. That accounted for the items she’d found in her father’s secret hiding places in his apartment.

  As the slope leading from the mountains flattened, they stayed at the edge of the forest and passed the first farms, then a small village of five buildings clustered at a crossroad. The construction of each roof had a steep peak, enough to provide a small room or two above the ground floor, and the roofs would shed heavy snow in winter.

  A farmer’s wife, wearing a full-length apron over her bodice and ankle-length skirt, paused while weeding the garden beside a house long enough to watch them walk by with curious eyes. She offered no welcoming call or wave. Prin glanced back and saw the woman had turned to look to the mountains where they had come from. Prin realized she might spread the word of two strange girls crossing the mountains to any who would pay her a copper coin.

  Prin realized being so close to the farms and standing out as travelers was a mistake, one that could cost her life. If she was to survive, she needed to do as Sara suggested, and right away. She needed to become someone else and stop drawing attention to herself.

  Prin pointed to the crossroad they had just passed and said, “We should take that one instead of staying in the forest where any who see us will remember because who travels there when a perfectly good road is at hand? I’ll tell you. Thieves, brigands, highwaymen, and girls trying to hide. It’s not enough to throw off followers, but a start. Only that one woman in the garden has spotted us, so far.”

  “Are you getting paranoid?”

  “I saw her react to us sneaking past her farm. She knows where we came from and will have no reason not to sell that information to those who will follow,” Prin said.

  Sara said, “You’re right. But if it’s only one woman, the chances are they won’t ask her. Besides, even if they do, she might not tell. People living in the country are like that.”

  Prin said, “I’m sorry, you know. I should have told you before.”

  “Sorry about what?”

  “All of this. You were living in your home village and merely accepted a job to teach me to read. It was never intended for you to escape to a foreign land with a hundred murderers chasing after us.”

  “A hundred?” Sara sputtered, forming a twitch of a smile.

  “Well, I didn’t want to scare you with the whole truth and the full number.”

  Both laughed, but Sara’s sounded forced, and Prin knew hers was. But she’d learned long ago as a fire starter in the morning kitchen to take things one step at a time. The lack of kindling prevented a fire even if the cooks were due to arrive soon and punish her. She had to lay the tinder in the ovens first, add kindling, and place the firewood on top where it could breathe air as it burned.

  Her mind attempted to sort problems in the same manner. First-step, second-step, and so on, just like building a morning fire. She needed to change her appearance, get rid of the horses, and become someone else. Those three steps were done, or at least started. She carried enough gold in her purse to last for years if she lived frugally. The next step was to find a place to live, buy clothing, and hide in plain sight, as Sara said. But those were only the beginning of her problems.

  “Tomorrow,” Sara muttered.

  “What’s tomorrow?”

  “The beginning of our new lives.”

  Prin smiled. “I thought that was today.”

  “Nope. Our entire lives will change when we first set foot in that strange and beautiful city, but we can’t get there today.”

  “You’re right. We’re about to lose the daylight,” Prin said, pointing ahead. “Is that an inn?”

  At another crossroads ahead, they saw a building that was obviously an inn, a sign over the front door swinging in the breeze. Before reaching it, Prin saw a young farmer leaning on a pitchfork and watching them while wearing a lazy smile and a twinkle in his eyes. There was no way to hide to hide from him. Besides, she liked his smile. It was as if he’d been waiting for them all day.

  Prin touched Sara’s elbow and whispered, “Follow me.”

  The farmhouse behind the young man leaned to one side as if sad and tired. The fields were overgrown with weeds. Even the grass in front of the barn doors grew tall, indicating there were no animals inside to eat or tramp it down. A neatly tended vegetable garden only large enough for one person grew beside the house.

  His smile widened when they approached, and he said, “Come to buy some of my hay?”

  Prin tried to match his smile. “Perhaps there might be a deal for us to make.”

  His smile faltered at her word and his realization he might make a sale of some kind, then he recovered and said, “What sort of deal?”

  “Well, where we come from, a drink of cold water is usually shared with thirsty travelers,” she said. She had spotted the well sitting to the side of the house, located where other people passing by on the road wouldn’t see them.

  He took the lead down the dirt driveway that hadn’t had a hoof or wheel on it in ages. She saw an old swaybacked mule in a fenced corral next to the barn, and behind that three fields of tall, lush grass the young man would never be able to cut and set out to dry alone. It was a job for two. Or three. When all that was taken together, along with the appearance of the rest of the farm, she believed he worked it alone.

  “Call me Tom,” he said as Sara dipped the bucket into the well and drew fresh water.

  Sara handed the ladle to Prin, before taking a drink herself, watching them carefully. Prin faced Tom and said bluntly, “Your farm isn’t doing very well.”

  He shrugged and turned his attention to the older Sara, who was near his age. “The previous owners had more than their share of problems. The father had an accident and died--along with his two sons. The widow moved to her sister’s farm down near Darlington, and I used all the money I had to buy this place.”

  Prin ignored him talking directly to Sara, as she said, “It looks like good farmland.”

  “I grow grass and try to sell it for hay. It brings in a little.”

  “But you need more money to buy seed, tools, labor, and everything else.”

  He laughed without humor, and his gaze again fell on Prin. “That’s about it. I should have tried buying a smaller farm so I’d have some money left over for seed and stock. I guess I was too ambitious for my own good.”

  “This is my sister, Sara, and I’m Prin. We have our own set of problems, and maybe we can help each other. We’re in a bit of a hurry, so let me know if this doesn’t interest you, and we’ll be on our way. Men, evil men, may come over the mountains looking for a friend of mine. A girl about my age with yellow hair.”

  “Why are they looking for you?” he asked, not buying her lie in the least as his eyes flicked to observe her bald head.

  “Not me! Besides, it does not matter,” Prin snapped. “What does matter, is that we don’t want to be seen or stay at the inn where they will ask about us. Ask about her. A night in a nice, dry barn would help.”

  “It’s yours. I can haul in some fresh hay for you to sleep on.”

  Prin smiled. “And how much will you charge?”

  “Sleeping in my barn is free.”

  “I thought you’d say that,” Prin said. “But, I have another idea. You feed us dinner, let us sleep in your barn, and we go into the farming business together.”

  “I said, the barn is free. I c
an’t offer but mush for dinner, and you’re welcome to it. I’m tired of eating it every day, but the farm is mine.”

  Prin took a step in his direction, drawing his full attention. “I need a man to trust and a place I can hide again, if I need to. A place where I know I can go because you owe me.” Prin waited, then revealed a silver coin she had palmed. “This will buy bags of seed to plant, a good plow, tools, a mule that can work instead of that one eating your grass beside the barn. Maybe even a local boy to help when you need to harvest all that hay.”

  “That coin will buy more than that,” his eyes were wide with possibilities.

  “Maybe it will buy a used wagon to carry your carrots, turnips and such to market. I also want you to buy chicks and feed for them. Next time I come here, I want a full chicken dinner.”

  “Where did you steal that silver?” he demanded.

  “It was a gift. But I have one more request.”

  He waited.

  “When those men come looking for me, you just tell them you have never seen us. Say nothing else. To do so might trap you in a lie and you cost your head. You never saw us, never heard anyone speak of us, and it is as simple as that. Remember, you cannot reveal what you never saw or heard.”

  “If people ask about the silver coin I suddenly have?”

  “A good question,” Sara said, speaking for the first time. “It is a gift from an uncle just before his death.”

  “My older brother died last spring. He was successful and might have given this to me.” He held it up to the watch the sun flash off it.

  “Good,” Prin said, then realized her answer could be taken wrong. “I mean it is a good story to tell, not good that your brother died.”

  Tom rolled the coin in his hand, then it came to rest in his outheld palm. He glanced at Prin and said, “Keep your silver. I’ll make it here on my own as soon as I get a crop planted. You’re always welcome to eat here and to sleep in my barn. I don’t charge friends for good manners.”

  She leaned forward, “I can see in your eyes that you’re a good man. But you need a little help, and I’m offering it to you. It’s not charity, it’s a business deal. I expect you to set aside half the profits over three years to share with me when I return, not a copper less.”