Color Mage (Book 1) (2 page)

“Is there anything I can help with here tonight, Hon Ruthan?” Kirian asked. The old Healer looked weary; so was Kirian, but she was young and strong, and she couldn’t bear to start out life in this little village resting in Ruthan’s spare room while the old woman scraped plates and did dishes.

But the old lady shook her head and waved Kirian away. Kirian was relieved. The dust from the road still coated her throat, in spite of the ale, and her knee throbbed where she had fallen on it. Most of all she was feeling overcome with the strangeness of everything. She closed the door, took off her cloak and shoes, and lay down fully clothed on the neatly made bed.

She let her eyes drift closed and calmed herself with images of home–images of the students in the dormitories; of her roommate Sindar laughing; of Mistress Urasha in the supply room laying out stacks of brown blankets, vials of remedies, and bags of fragrant herbs for the Healers who traveled; and of the warm stone of the College itself, that drew the day’s heat in and then threw it back in the evenings, toasting the students’ backs as they sat against the stone walls. She thought of Inmay, on his way to his new posting while wishing he was back in the capital with the slave woman he had tried to free. Thoughts of her noble classmates, with their thinly-veiled scorn for her, intruded only briefly before she swept them away.

After a while, thought faded. Only the soothing roll of waves lapping up to the shore broke the darkness. Kirian listened for a while, and then smiled before she let sleep draw her away.

* * * * *

In the next sennight, Kirian learned the village. She saw the men and a few of the women go out to sea in their boats in the gray mornings, rocking on the water below the strip of beach Seagard owned. They brought home fish of various colors and sizes, most of which Kirian was unfamiliar with, and they brought lobsters once, several of which were sent to the lord and his family up in the castle.

Some of the villagers who did not go out to sea tended sparse gardens, from which they coaxed greens and other produce to fill the stew pot. Some had a goat or a pig, and everyone, including the livestock, ate fish. Marka wove jewel-toned blankets from the wool of sheep that were kept somewhere high up in the mountains. The blankets were sent out on the monthly caravan to be sold at a shop in the city.

Kirian helped Ruthan augment her income by packaging a remedy or two when a particular herb was abundant. She gathered the herbs on long walks up the cliff path into the brush, and along the Two Merkhan road.

“Give me some more gidroot, young Kirian,” Ruthan said as they sat outside the door on a sunny day. Kirian collected a handful from the drying rack, feeling the bristly leaves brush against her skin. They stripped the dried stems from the fragrant leaves, and then they put the leaves into a mortar. A few grinds reduced the leaves to powder, which was then put into colorful glass vials.

“These are beautiful, Ruthan,” Kirian said, turning an amethyst-colored vial back and forth in the sunlight. “Where do these come from?”

“These? From the south. They make them to hold perfumes. There was a chest of them on board a ship that wrecked on the rocks in a storm a few years ago.”

“Why is it so dangerous?”

“There are rocks that are only exposed in the low tides. There’s a warning light on the High Rocks, but they don’t always see it.”

“So these sell well at Two Merkhan?”

Ruthan chuckled. “Very well! And gidroot is the most popular of all, though I’ve told them it won’t do a thing to make a woman fertile.”

“I suppose they’re desperate,” Kirian said, filling another jar.

“Kin and Rashiri take these to Two Merkhan every month or so, when I have them. They fish and then sell at the market there—about the only ones around here who do.”

Ruthan spent a lot of time that first sennight telling Kirian about the people who lived in the village. In a full month, Kirian did not set foot in the castle. After a while, she thought this was odd; the Healer’s first duty was to attend the nobility up at the castle, and the presence of the Alkirani was the only reason a little village like Seagard rated a college-trained Healer at all. Kirian had inquired about the Alkirani before she left Sugetre, so she knew the Alkirani were friends of the King, related by marriage. The current Lady Alkiran was sister to the King.

 “Oh, they’re busy,” Ruthan said, when asked about this omission. “They’ve company this sennight or two. We’ll go up and introduce you after the party from the city has gone.”

“Do you like them, the Alkirani?” Kirian asked. “What are they like?”

“I like some of them,” she replied, “And that’s the best any Healer will be doing with any noble
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patrons, my dear, so don’t be expecting to be invited to dinner with them. We are servants to them. They’ll call when they need us, and dismiss us without a thought, seeing we have done our job. Lord Forell won’t listen to you at all and will complain of you to his father, Lord Alkiran, when he falls ill from the overindulgence you warned him about. Shala Si, the concubine, will ask for potions that we don’t provide, the ones they use in the heathen city she comes from. But Lady Alkiran is pleasant enough, and so is the girl, Litha Sira.”

“What about Lord Alkiran?”

“He is a Collared Mage, and requires what’s due him. That’s all. Best not to talk to him more than you have to. I don’t.”

“He’s dangerous then?”

Ruthan snorted. “They all are, the
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lords. He’s no exception. He has a temper. Wants what he wants, when he wants it, and has the power to get it.”

“What happens when he’s displeased?” Kirian asked.

 “He’ll throw sparks,” Ruthan said quite seriously. “There’s not a one of them who can keep the color magic under control when he’s put out.”

“I meant . . .”

Ruthan shook her head, her white eyes catching the firelight and gleaming ocher. “Never forget that, unlike me, you are a college Healer. You are under the protection of the Lord Healer. What would Lord Alkiran do to such a one?”

“That’s the question,” she said, dropping her eyes to her work. Kirian didn’t know how much protection she could expect from the college. She had been a rescued street-child, admitted to the college as one of their required acts of charity, and trained along with the children of the merchant and noble classes who were the other students. She had no wealthy patron or family to argue her case if she felt she was unfairly treated at school. She had been raised to thank the Unknown God for rescuing her from the slavery that would have been her lot as an unclaimed girl-child in Sugetre. Then the College had sent her here. Inmay was right; she had no choice in her posting.

Kirian knew she was fortunate; however, she thought that Lord Alkiran could probably get away with any kind of treatment of her that he wished, without any risk of reprimand from the College.

Now that she was posted here and the noble family had access to a Healer, the College’s duty was done. They had probably forgotten she existed.

The next day Kirian heard a knock on the door. She opened it to a middle-aged man wearing a brown jacket and breeches.

“There you are!” he said. “You must be this new Healer my lord wants to see. Hon Kirian, is it? Lord Alkiran wants you. I’m Tabe, the second groom.”

Kirian felt a gust of wind grab at the door she held open. She looked west; the sky was a foreboding shade of gray. A few people were dragging boats up onto the rocks, away from the foaming surf.

“There’s going to be a storm,” she told the groom. “It looks like it could be pretty bad. Is it safe to go up the cliff in the storm?”

“Whether it is or not, we’re going all the same,” he said. “Hon Ruthan, you in there? My lord wants you too.”

“Lord Alkiran’s timing is just as good as it always is,” Ruthan grumbled. “Hurry, young Tabe, and maybe we can get up the cliff before it hits. Kirian, your cloak, girl!”

Kirian grabbed the cloaks and her bag and pulled the door tight as they left. An old coach and four nervous horses waited around the corner. A village boy dropped the reins into Tabe’s hands as the groom climbed into the coachman’s seat. Kirian helped Ruthan into the coach and climbed in herself.

The coach started off immediately. “Come on, old horse, come on,” Tabe’s voice urged from the coachman’s seat. Kirian looked out at the village moving past her window, and a few minutes later felt the lurch as the horses pulled the coach onto the cliff path.

The wind picked up force. Kirian felt it shoving at the coach as they ascended the path. Looking out the window and down, she could see the gray sea swirling around rocks below. The coach jolted, and her hand grabbed for the strap.

Ruthan cackled. “Great fun, isn’t it, my girl? I’ll wager my lord didn’t look out the window before he summoned us.”

Kirian wondered why they hadn’t invited Tabe into the house, sent the horses to shelter in Marka’s shed, and waited out the storm before going up the cliff. Instead, she asked: “Is it safe to take the cliff path with four horses like this?”

“Two horses can’t pull the coach up,” Ruthan said. “Though I’ll agree it seems narrow for four. Tabe knows what he’s doing, Kirian.”

Kirian risked another look out the window. The path came perilously close to the edge of the cliff, she thought. Below, the sea crashed against the rocks. In the distant slate-gray sky, thunder rolled. The coach bumped up the path; Kirian wondered if it was always this rough, or if Tabe was rushing his horses to beat the storm. She held on to the strap to keep herself from sliding across the seat into Ruthan.

The coach pulled to a stop before a stone arch. The door was yanked open. Kirian saw a boy dressed in groom’s brown. “Hurry,” he said, and helped Ruthan down the coach steps. Kirian grabbed her bag and followed Ruthan under the arch just as the curtain of rain reached them. The wind pushed it under the arch and soaked the edge of Kirian’s cloak in just a few seconds.

“That’s a wild one,” the servant boy said, grinning up at the healers. “Here, I’ll take you to someone who will show you where to go. I gotta help Tabe with the horses.”

Kirian waved thanks to Tabe, who held the horses’ heads. As they entered the castle, thunder crashed above them, and Kirian heard the frightened neigh of one of the coach horses.

A liveried servant led them up two flights of stone stairs to a comfortable room. Kirian took off her wet cloak and took Ruthan’s as well, holding them since no one offered to hang them for her.

“This is Lord Alkiran’s study,” Ruthan said, while settling into a chair near the fire. The chair next to hers was a tall, engraved affair that was clearly meant for Lord Alkiran. Kirian remained standing and looked around at the room, which was warmed by a large fire and lit against the darkness of the storm by several oil lamps. There was a large mirror, a tool of the color mage’s art, in a corner of the room; a corner of it gleamed from under the red hanging that draped it. A large window dominated the sea-side of the room; it was made of the faintly green, thick glass that was used in fancy goblets. It was an unimaginable luxury in such an expanse of window.

Lord Alkiran strode into the room a moment later and sat in the ornate chair by the fire. He surveyed Kirian with dark, hawk-like eyes in a face that had aged into lines of severity. His black and silver hair fell to the top of his shoulders, almost hiding the golden gleam of the Collar around his neck.

Remembering Ruthan’s instructions, Kirian bowed. Ruthan, remaining seated with the allowance due her old age, bowed from the neck.

“So,” Lord Alkiran said. “This is the new Healer.”

“Yes, Lord Alkiran. My name is Kirian. I graduated from the Healer’s College a year ago. Master Raiko sent me to complete my journeyman’s time with Hon Ruthan and to be the Healer to SeagardCastle.”

“Of what quality is this Healer?” Alkiran asked, turning toward Ruthan. “I have had word from Raiko that she is one of their best, despite her lowly origins.”

“Lord Alkiran, I have no complaint of her. She should meet your needs well. She has knowledge of the body, illnesses and injuries, as well as the needful herbs and medicines. She relates well to all those she has met, which is a valuable thing in a Healer.” Ruthan coughed a little, behind her hand.

“Relate to whom? Villagers and fishermen?” Alkiran’s brows drew together as he transferred his gaze to Kirian. “You are engaged to treat our ills, not relate to us, Healer.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Alkiran stared at her. “I was told you have no family so that there is nothing to keep you from serving us as Healer permanently.”

Kirian felt a spark of anger that he should be pleased about her charity origins. “Yes, Lord Alkiran. I’m free to make this posting my first priority, as all Healers do, regardless of their families.”

His eyes narrowed. “You may remain in the village while you are completing your training with Ruthan. Then you must move up to the Castle. It is important that you are close in case there is need.”

“My lord,” Kirian said, still standing with the wet cloaks soaking through her sleeve. “As you just saw, I can be here from the village in twenty minutes, even in a thunderstorm.” Ruthan coughed again.

“Nevertheless.” Alkiran turned to look at Ruthan for a moment. The fire glinted off the gold of his Collar. Kirian thought it appeared uncomfortably tight. The skin of his neck stretched into wrinkles above and below its smooth expanse.

Kirian bit back her first urge for a swift retort. The man was a despot, but she would endeavor to begin their association on a favorable note. “I assume that I may also serve as Healer to SeagardVillage while residing at the castle?”

“Second to your duties here, yes. It is to our benefit that you stay skillful in your craft, and also that the villagers stay healthy enough to provide fish for our needs.”

“My lord.” She bowed.

“You will find, Hon Kirian, that you will be treated with a respect commensurate with your position, if you show you understand where your duty lies. You may ask your mentor for a clarification later. Ruthan will acquaint you with the residents of the Castle, both
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and otherwise, and our medical needs. I must speak with her now, however. In the meantime, you may begin by seeing Lord Forell’s concubine. I am informed she has need of a Healer.”