Forgotten Mage (3 page)

I knew your father better
than anyone. If you wish to know something, why not just ask
me?

“Because I have heard your stories
about father a dozen times over and they are all the same. I want
to hear something new about what he was like before you or my
mother knew him,” Bren replied stubbornly.

“What are you doing?” Faye asked,
looking at Bren her eyes full of curiosity.

“Just thinking,” Bren replied, glad
that the girl had seemed to miss his statement about Thad being his
father. “Do you think your granddad would let me work on your farm
some?”

“Why not, just ask me boy,” Doren
yelled from the front. “You don’t think that this thin piece of
cloth keeps me from hearing ya’ll yakking away do you?”

“No sir, I just didn’t want to bother
you,” Thad replied hesitantly.

“Such a polite boy, aren’t you? I don’t
see why you can’t work on the farm. To tell you the truth, might do
you a bit of good. From the looks of you, I don’t think you have
done an honest day’s work in your life and every boy should have
the pleasure of an honest day’s work.”

“How long will it take to reach your
farm?” Bren asked nervously.

“We should arrive late tomorrow night,”
Faye replied quickly. “Most the time it takes a bit longer, but
granddad doesn’t like to sleep on the road so he only stops a few
hours at a time to let the horses rest.” Faye leaned down and
placed her mouth only a few inches away from Bren’s ear. “To tell
the truth, grandma makes him take someone with him. She says
otherwise he’s likely to fall asleep on the road and end up halfway
to Rane.”

Bren and Faye continued to talk and
trade stories. Bren would tell her what it was like to grow up in
the capitol and she would tell him about her life on the farm with
her brother and cousins. To Bren, her life seemed new and exciting.
There might not be any large parties or function, but it seemed as
if she had the one thing he had always desired, freedom. Bren had
always had to be somewhere for something that his mother considered
important. He could count on one hand the number of times he could
remember a full day where he had not been hurried about the
palace.

As interested as he was in her life on
the farm, she seemed just as interested in his life. Her main
questions seemed focused on his mother’s horses and the many
banquets that he was forced to attend. “They really serve five
separate courses of food? What happens if you get full?” Faye asked
laughing.

“If you get full you simply take a few
bites of the course and then sit it aside. My mother insists that
you take at least five full bites of any food during a dinner. I
remember one time we were visiting an older duchess and she served
this horridly cooked venison stew with far too much salt and I was
forced to take those five bites. I thought I was going to be sick,”
Bren replied, his stomach churning just from the thought of having
to eat at the duchess’s estate ever again. “Don’t get me wrong,
most of the time the food is great, but every now and then we visit
some lady that tries to impress my mother with something exotic and
that never bodes well for my appetite.”

Faye had told Bren that her granddad
liked to travel through most the night, but he hadn’t truly
expected that to be the truth. Sure enough, the wagon rolled on
even after the sun dropped below the horizon. Tired and out of
energy, Bren pulled a thick blanket around his shoulders and closed
his eyes.

Shortly after his eyes closed, Bren
felt something heavy push against his side. Cracking open one eye,
he looked to his side to see Faye had decided to use his shoulder
as a pillow. He could hear her steady breathing. Strands of her
sandy blonde hair covered her face, hiding her deep blue eyes, but
the peaceful look on her face was still enchanting.

You shouldn’t let her get
so close,
Thuraman said. His voice echoing
in Bren’s mind, filled with contempt.

What is she going to do, bite me?” Bren
replied sarcastically.

She just might, though not
just with her teeth. I have told you time and time again that women
are not to be trusted. They will do everything they can to make
sure that you do what they want. Be wary that you do not make the
same mistakes as your father.

“I am starting to understand why my
father didn’t listen to you often,” Bren answered back snidely. “I
have seen men and women both manipulate others into doing what they
wanted. Like how the stable boy always makes the girls give him a
kiss before he will saddle there horses.”

I think it is more the
girls give him a kiss so they don’t have to do it
themselves.
Thuraman shot back.

“I think you are just trying to find a
reason to be mad. Whatever it is I don’t want to keep hearing about
it. I don’t feel such a pressing need to keep you, that I won’t
drop you in the next lake I see,” Bren answered back
angrily.

No matter how far away you
run I could still talk to you. And even should you shut me out of
your mind, one day you would need me and call for me. It was the
same with your father. He always threated to leave me behind, but
he never did. I was as much a part of him as his own arm, just as I
am a part of you.

Bren tried to ignore Thurman’s words,
but they haunted him. The staff was right, it was a part of him and
the only real connection he had to finding his father. As he
drifted off to sleep, Bren imagined breaking the staff in a hundred
different ways. He knew that he wouldn’t do it, but just thinking
about it seemed to quell his anger.

Thad was awoken when he heard Doren
talking to someone. At first his mind was too hazy to hear the
words, but when he heard his own name his became fully
awake.

“Yes sir, Prince Bren is missing. He is
a young lad about fifteen with reddish-blonde hair, green eyes and
well-built for his age, though still a bit on the skinny side if
you ask me. The queen is offering a good reward for his return
should you come across him.” Bren heard a deep voice say from the
other side of the canvas.

“Haven’t seen no one like that, but
I’ll keep my eyes peeled,” Doren replied back.

Bren breathed a sigh of relief when
Doren didn’t give him away. He had expected the old farmer to tell
the guards right where to find him and had already moved to the
back of the wagon ready to make his escape. Bren settled back down
under the covers once the wagon began to move again, but his nerves
were wound too tight for him to fall back asleep. After more than
an hour of restlessness, Bren pulled back the canvas and climbed on
the thin bench beside Doren.

“You think it’s a good idea for you to
be sitting here in plain sight when you got half the kingdom
looking for you boy?” Doren asked, his tone even and harsh. “I
don’t know why you’re running or what you’re running from, but I
think you better get to talking before I start fancying that
reward.”

“It’s my mother and sister sir,” Bren
said in a way of explaining, but the old man just looked at him
with a face that said he would have to do better. “They won’t let
me out of their sight and everything I do is wrong. I want to do
more with my life then end up being a chip for my mom to marry off
for political reasons. She has already had me meet three different
women from neighboring kingdoms. My father left me to rule the
Mage’s Tower in his steed and that’s what I aim to do.”

Doren looked at Bren for a long time
without saying a word then he breathed a heavy sigh. “Sounds like
the same thing all kids say when they reach your age. If you ain’t
learned anything yet then learn this, life is not fair. That aside,
I think some time on your own might just be good for a boy your
age, so let’s make a deal. It’s already late in the planting
season, but thanks to some heavy rains the south fields got flooded
and need replanting. That’s why we had to rush to the capital to
buy more seed. You help us with the planting and I’ll look the
other way about your disappearing act.”

“You have a deal,” Bren said, holding
out his hand eagerly.

Doren gave a long loud laugh. “I don’t
think you will be thanking me after a few days on the
farm.”

CHAPTER III

Just as Faye had said they reached the
farm late the next evening. Bren looked around but saw no sign of
Avalanche. “Have you seen my dog?” He asked Doren as the old man
climbed down from the wagon.

“Here and there though not for a few
hours,” Doren replied as he stretched his arms and legs. “I
remember a time when I could spend weeks on the wagon without so
much as an ache. These days it only takes a few hours for my bones
to start feel like there rattling apart.”

“Granddad you’re not going to start
your week long complaining already are you,” Faye said coming up
beside Bren. “If you hate it that much then you should have had
someone else go.”

“Women won’t even let a man enjoy his
complaining in peace,” Doren said melodramatically before waving
them off as he turned and started unhitching the horses from the
wagon.

“Let’s go inside and I will introduce
you to the rest of the family,” Faye said grabbing Bren’s arm and
pulling him behind her.

Bren silently let Faye drag him into
the large farmhouse. Inside what he found was far different than he
had expected. He had envisioned many different things about what to
expect, but none of them were close to what he found. The common
room was large and filled with chairs and a massive fireplace. Bren
could see a wide set of stairs leading to a second floor and a
large table through one of the doorways.

“We have a visitor it seems,” A lady
about his mother’s age, wearing a plain wool dress said, appearing
from the other room.

“Mother this is Bren,” Faye said
smiling brightly. “He is Mark’s son.”

Bren let out a heavy sigh. He had hoped
that Faye hadn’t been paying attention to him and that he could
pass his time here without that mark of distinction. “Hello miss,”
Bren said after a long silent moment.

The older lady looked him over
carefully before a wide smile spread across her face. “You do look
a bit like Mark did when he was your age, though the red tint in
your hair makes you look a bit more dashing. Don’t you think
Faye?”

“Mother!” Faye said, her face blushing
a light pink.

“So what do we owe the honor of having
the prince come to our home,” the lady continued
smiling.

“He said he wants to help out on the
farm,” Faye said meekly, looking down at her shoes.

“Is that so? Following in your father’s
footsteps I see,” the lady said, her hand covering the smile
spreading across her face. “Well I am Faye’s mother, though most
people simply call me Clair. The rest of the family went to sleep
some time ago, but I am sure you will get to meet them soon enough.
Now let’s get you fed and in bed, I am sure father will want to get
you started early in the morning.”

Bren was fed a plate of cold meat then
led to a small room in the attic of the building. The room was
dusty and looked as if it hadn’t been used for a long time. “Most
our part time workers live in a small bunk house at the other end
of the field, but I think this room would fit you best and it’s not
like the prince would do something untoward to my family or my
daughter,” Clair said stressing the word daughter.

“I wouldn’t…,” Bren started to say but
was quickly silenced by Clair’s laugh.

“You do remind me of your father. He
had the same quiet charm. When he was here I used to follow him
around and spy on him, but I don’t think he ever really noticed
me,” Clair said looking at him with the same look that his mother
got when she talked about Thad. “You know this was his room. I used
to pace on the stairs trying to work up the nerve to talk to
him.”

“What was he like?” Bren asked after
Clair drifted off into silence.

“I guess he died before you really got
to know him. It was the same with Faye’s father. She asks the same
question as well, though nothing I tell her ever seems to be
enough,” Clair said, her face suddenly saddened. “Your father was
always quiet and he didn’t laugh much. He was a hard worker and my
first love. He quickly became part of the family. After he left we
wondered what had become of him until my father happened to be in
the capital for his weeding to the queen. He changed his name, but
he knew who it was.” Clair stopped and gave Bren a warm smile. “Not
much help was I. It’s hard to put a person into words. My best
advice is to look in a mirror and in yourself. That would be the
best way to get to know your father.”

Bren watched as Clair shut the door as
she left. Looking around the room, he wondered if his father had
been the last person to sleep in the bed that was now covered by
more than an inch of dust. Picking up the outer cover, Bren gave it
a hard shake then coughed as the room was filled with light brown
dust. The smell of dust tingled his nose the whole time. He tried
to sleep, but the most pressing thing was the thought, that years
earlier his father had been right where he was at.

No one really talked about his father
when he was Bren’s age. His mother would make a few passing
comments, but Bren got the idea that his dad had very few people
who really knew him when he was younger. Even Thurman only knew his
father from after he had become the hero at Southpass Fort, but
what about when he was a child or just coming into his own. It
seemed as if those parts of his father’s life were still shrouded
in mystery.