Rose of the Alchemist ~ Second Edition

Chapter One

GRANDFATHER WAS IN a black mood again so Xavier held his nose and ducked into the privy when he heard the heavy thud of feet on the stairs.  Then, as soon as the steps went by, he darted down the hall to his room and went in. Fishing out the black-bound book hidden under his bed, he went to the open window, stepped out, and skimmed down the heavy vine climbing the castle wall.  The courtyard was blessedly empty of servants so he darted to the side gate and out into the woods, where the boughs of his favorite tree roofed him in woody shade and he could pour over the book he’d smuggled out of the library. It was the one book Grandfather had forbidden him to read, Gustav Magnus’s Treatise on Sorcery, so naturally he had to read it. The symbols illuminated in gold and the words scribed in the old Galtalin language weren’t always clear to him, but it always sent a chill up his spine to read them. When he mouthed the strange words, time seemed to spin like a top and the leaves, grass and singing birds all swirled with new life. Somewhere in this book had to be an answer. Since the day he and Gemma, his grandfather’s devoted servant, had their encounter with the bull, he’d been seeing strange things, and he wanted to know why.

It had been a lovely midsummer’s day and an opportunity to escape the dungeon of home, so Xavier had jumped at Gemma’s invitation to go on a picnic. He hefted the wicker basket with the delicious smells, while Gemma brought a basket of clothing to mend.

When they reached the sandy bank of the river, he speared fish in the shallows and skipped stones on the water, while Gemma darned a hole in one of his shirts. At midday, they spread a blanket in the shade and ate pork pies, plums and treacle tarts. Then they sat in the cool shade as Xavier licked the plum juice from his fingers. The balmy afternoon made him drowsy, so he leaned back on the blanket and the question popped out before he could stop it. Gemma, why does Grandfather hate me?

Gemma paused in her darning, and her face puckered in an expression that mixed pain and exasperation. "He doesn’t hate you, Xavier. It’s that you’re a constant reminder of something he wants to forget. Your mother was a Jardi, one of the wagon folk, and your grandfather never forgave her for that. Though she was a dear, kind soul, she tainted his precious son, Jevan, by marrying him."

So Grandfather hates me because Mother was a Jardi and I’m a half-breed?

Let’s just say you remind him of a deep wound that never healed, Gemma said, and went back to her sewing.

So, why did he even take me in after mother and father died if he hates me! Xavier fumed. The water looked cool and inviting and he was hot and sweaty, so he stripped off his shirt and rolled up his trousers and waded into the cool green of the river. The crystalline stillness flowed over him but it didn’t ease the ache inside.

Gemma’s scream tore the afternoon stillness.  Xavier looked up to see his grandfather’s prize bull, usually penned behind the stables, crashing through the rushes along the bank. The huge beast pawed the earth and bellowed not twenty paces from her. She stood frozen as it lowered its head as if to charge.

Xavier wadded out onto the bank and hurled stones at the beast to distract it. The bull’s tail lashed in a whip over its flanks and it snorted great, steamy breaths. He could see it was going to charge at any moment, so he ran to Gemma and put her behind him. Then he advanced toward the bull with his hand extended. She tried to grab him, but he waved her away and walked towards the bull.  He tensed in anticipation of his gut being ripped open by those terrible horns. I’m going to die. Closing his eyes, he reached his trembling hand to touch the smooth hide of the beast’s shoulder. He was just as astonished as Gemma when the bull grunted and its head lolled down in contentment.

By this time Gemma had rallied out of her shock and she crept up and grabbed his arm and pulled him away through the tall rushes. The bull watched them go. Then it swished its tail at the mud flies on its flanks, and lazily maneuvered its bulk into the river to wade to the other side.

Gemma’s face was pale, and her hands were shaking when they reached the safety of the courtyard. She turned to him and demanded, "Tell me how you did that!"

"I haven’t got a clue, really, Gemma. I was sure the brute was going to gore me, but when I looked at it, I saw something so strange!  It was as if I was looking inside the beast’s mind, and there were all these shimmering particles, like seeds, inside. And somehow I knew what kind of fruit each seed would bear. I found the seed that was tameness and just kind of held it in my mind. It sprouted with a light, yellow as a buttercup, and made the bull behave as if he was a calf again. I really have no idea how it happened."

Gemma nodded thoughtfully, and then said, I believe you have the gift of magic, even as your mother once told me you would when you were a babe.  She grabbed hold of Xavier and looked him in the eye, as she pleaded, Not a word of this to your grandfather. He’s bitter and resentful enough over your mother’s Jardi ways and her marrying his precious son. Your mother never told him she had visions.

What kind of visions?

She could foretell the future. She had a premonition when you were two that she was going to die soon. She asked me to look after you. Your grandfather knows nothing about this and you must never tell him. Gemma insisted, as she brushed a cocklebur off his shirt, and then added, Now, come, we must hurry or we’ll be late for supper. 

Two months later, when he turned sixteen, Gemma told him, I’ll speak to your grandfather about sending you away to university. It’s expected for boys your age to attend university, if they do well on their Trivium Exam. Your tutor says he’s sure you’re going to pass with flying colors.

But Xavier knew the real reason Gemma wanted to send him away was she was terrified Grandfather might find out about his Jardi visions.

The next morning, after another dreary breakfast with Grandfather, Xavier held his breath as he darted into the library. His heart felt like it would pound right out of his chest as he fumbled through the leather-bound volumes until he located the forbidden book. He’d made up his mind to try a spell today. A scurrying in the corner made him jump, but it was just a mouse. Grandfather would kill me if he caught me with this! He crept to the door and held his breath as he listened. The cloth whisper of tapestries on the wall was the only sound, so he strolled as casually as he could down the hall and into his room. He dared to breathe again inside his sanctuary. Grandfather never came to his room. The book tucked under his shirt, he clambered the thirty feet down the vine and crouched in the shadow of the drainpipe. The courtyard was empty, except for a groom shoeing one of the horses, so he darted as fast as he could to the arched side gate and out into the woods. 

The sunlight danced in and out of the boughs as Xavier curled up under his favorite tree. He had no lessons today, and even Gemma didn’t know about his secret hiding place. He was safe until it was time for supper. His hand trembled as he pulled out the forbidden book on magic. On the few occasions he’d been able to swipe the book from the library, he’d practiced reciting the spells over and over again in his mind, but he couldn’t be sure he was pronouncing the words correctly. They were written in the old language of the church, Galtalin. He’d had a year or so of studying the language with his tutor, but he’d never heard most of the words in the spell. He flipped through the worn pages until he came to the one he wanted, The Spell of Levitation.  Reaching into his satchel, he removed the squirming lizard that was his guinea pig. Silently repeating the words of the spell for the hundredth time, he held the lizard before him, cleared his throat, and then uttered the words out loud.

As first nothing happened, but then he watched breathlessly, as the lizard glowed with a silvery light and the air around it seemed to come alive. The creature puffed up to twice its size and floated out of his hand. It worked! I did it! He wanted to yell, but he covered his mouth before the joy could escape. He didn’t dare risk anyone discovering his secret place. The lizard was bloated as a bellows and he watched as it drifted higher and higher through the conifer boughs. But then something went horribly wrong. There was a loud report, like a musket discharging, and it exploded into a thousand bits of flesh that rained down over him. He gagged, as the gory missiles pelted him, and then tried to wipe the carnage off on the grass.

The bell for supper clanged in the distance as he was plucking bloody bits from his hair. God, I lost track of time! I’ll have to return the book to the library later and dash to my room so I can get cleaned up before supper! He darted through the woods like a flushed rabbit as he relived the horrible experiment over and over. It had worked, at least for a little while, but what good was a spell he couldn’t control, a spell that killed whatever it was cast on?

When he got back to his room, Xavier pulled the forbidden book out from under his shirt and hid it in his wardrobe. He barely had time to wash his face and change his clothes before Gemma was pounding at his door to come to dinner. He shoved his bloody clothes down the privy on the way to the dining room.

Why his grandfather had to put that horrible clock in the dining room was beyond him. The tick-tock was a constant reminder of the agonizing crawl of time at the table, but punctuality was something Grandfather insisted on. He speared the innocent slab of roast pork on his plate and stuffed it into his mouth. He’d learned to bolt his food in order to escape to the sanctuary of his room as quickly as possible.

Grandfather brooded on his throne at the head of the table, chewing his food as he always did, like a great, angry bull at its cud. It was the same every meal. He rarely spoke and looked anywhere but at Xavier. He might as well have been a ghost for all his grandfather seemed to notice or care. He hates me because I look like a Jardi, just like mother. Someday I’ll throw my plate against the wall and storm out of this morgue!

Xavier’s fork clattered to the table in shock, when suddenly his grandfather cleared his throat and spoke, I got a letter today from the Headmaster at Lorrain. Seems you scored in the top percentile on your Trivium Exam. You start university in two weeks. For once you did the family name proud, Boy. His grandfather’s voice was warmer than the iceberg it usually was.

I don’t believe it! I really get to escape this prison and my dreary grandfather! I can be around people my own age! Xavier’s head felt light as a dandelion puff and he grabbed onto the table to keep from leaping out of his chair. He finally noticed his grandfather’s bushy brows undulating like caterpillars, a sure sign he was irritated, so he cleared his throat. Thank you, Sir. I’ll do my best to uphold the family honor and do well at my studies.

I expect nothing less, Boy. Now finish your supper and we’ll go to the stables. I have a surprise for you. A shadow of a smile touched his Grandfather’s dour face before he turned his attention back to slurping his soup.

The food disappeared faster than usual off Xavier’s plate. A surprise for me in the stable? Could it possibly be my very own horse? He had to clasp his hands into fists underneath the table to keep from shouting, Hurry up! at his grandfather.

The lamps shed a soft light throughout the barn as Xavier followed his grandfather inside. A sleek, black filly he’d never seen before whinnied at him from a stall.

She’s bred from the finest stock and cost me a small fortune so take good care of her, his grandfather said sternly.

She’s... m... mine? He looked hesitantly at his grandfather. A ghost of a smile warmed Grandfather’s somber face, as he nodded.

Thank you, Sir, she’s beautiful!

Xavier went to the filly’s stall and opened the door as she whinnied and nuzzled him. Her warm breath fluttered his hair as he caressed her silken coat. My very own horse! And she’s the most beautiful horse I’ve ever seen. And soon I’ll be going away to university! This has to be the best day ever! Tears of joy welled in his eyes, but he didn’t want Grandfather to think he was girlish, so he wiped his tears into the filly’s coat before his grandfather could see. He wanted to shout and jump with joy, but he clutched onto the filly’s mane instead.

Chapter Two

FLY AWAY, LITTLE ONE! Meri thought to the black and white speckled pheasant perched on the limb as she aimed her crossbow.  The bird was in her sights, but her finger paused on the trigger until it fluttered to safety. Then she pulled the trigger on the crossbow and watched the bolt lodge in the branch in the exact spot the pheasant just vacated.

Tough luck, Meri, Kendal of Shoreshire commented ruefully, as he gathered up the string of dead birds. I don’t understand it, you can hit an apple through its center at fifty paces with your crossbow but I’ve yet to see you bring down any fowl or game with it.

Meri ran her hand through her close-cropped, dark curls, and gazed at her boot. "Sorry Father, I know I’m a disappointment to you, but I just can’t kill animals. I hear their thoughts and I can’t bring myself to hurt them."

A faint frown crinkled Kendal’s brow. Sir Fallon will expect you to kill a wild boar as part of your initiation for the Knight’s Vows, he observed, more sternly than he’d meant. The crestfallen look on his youngest child’s face tugged at his heart, so he patted her on the shoulder, and added more gently, I’ll have a talk with Sir Fallon. He told me your skill in weaponry and handling horses greatly impressed him for a boy your age. Perhaps he’ll overlook the hunting requirement. He glanced around at the woods surrounding them, and then lowered his voice, You’ve been careful, haven’t you?

Meri looked up into her father’s eyes. Yes, Father. I’ve kept our secret. Neither Sir Fallon nor my fellow squires know that I’m really a girl.

Kendal’s tone was grave, as he added, "You must never let them find out, Meri, or we’ll all be sent to prison,"

I won’t, Father, she promised.

Good. Now we’d better head home or Abigail will blister our ears for letting her fine pork roast get cold! Kendal winked, as he mounted his horse, and Meri climbed into the saddle. They rode at a good clip through the twilight woods.

Father’s disappointed in me, though he tries to hide it. I’ve got to work that much harder at my squire’s training to make him proud of me! Meri vowed, though her stomach was tied in a knot as she rode through the gathering shadows.

Shoreshire Manor was a buzzing like a hive of angry bees when they rode through the gate and onto the cobblestones of the courtyard. George, the pock-faced chamberlain, grabbed hold of Lord Kendal’s bridle before he’d even reined in. His face held the look of a dog that’s been caught stealing the roast off the table. Something terrible has happened, Lord, and it’s my fault! George wailed.

Well, what is it, man? Kendal demanded, as he slid from the saddle.

"It’s Lady Catherine, Lord. She insisted on going riding this afternoon. I didn’t want to let her go unescorted so I sent Garth with her. He returned about an hour ago alone.