Chapter 2 – The Thegn's Son

I arrived in Britain towards the end of winter. I had passed the previous six months with Abu. We had travelled north through Castile, passing through the mountains before the cold weather arrived, and so to a house Abu owned in the region of Aquitaine, in West Frankia. There we spent the winter, and he taught me much. In the beginning, I longed for my home and my mother and everything familiar. But that passed, and in time I became accustomed to the new comfort of my life.

The house was not a large one, but it seemed a vast fortress to me. I slept on a mattress made of goose-down, in a corner of the hall that I had to myself, though there were servants and slaves sleeping in the same room. Abu had his own chamber, for he was a man who liked his privacy. He kept me working hard through most of each day, but he was a good master. He rarely lifted his hand to me, and every day I had some hours to myself. There were other boys who worked in the house, all wizards like myself, and I enjoyed their company, though I always found something lacking, and as I learnt from Abu I came to know what it was. Wizards they might be, but their blood was not pure. They were slow and dull-witted boys, and it was clear to me why Abu would not have chosen any like them for his apprentice. They could perform only the most basic of spells, and there seemed little hope of them ever learning more.

I, on the other hand, learnt fast. The first thing he taught me was how to read and write in Arabic, for it was vital that I should be able to follow his written instructions and read things out to him. Then he began to tutor me in the noble art of potion-making, and much else besides. Abu was one of the great wizards of the world, and under him I flourished. For the first time, I had a wand that worked as it should, for he had one made especially for me. He also began to teach me to speak in other languages, a skill I picked up easily, perhaps because I had always spoken several. As well as the snake-tongue and my native Castilian, I also spoke Basque, and a small amount of Arabic; now I added English, Occitan and Latin to that.

I was loath to leave Aquitaine as the spring approached, but Abu wished to go to Britain, to converse with some other great wizards he knew of there, and to acquire some potions ingredients he could not get elsewhere, and so we set off north once more.

The north seemed to me a wasteland. The spring came later there, and so although we left the beginnings of warmth and birdsong behind us, we found cold winds and lingering snow and bare trees. I was sick to my stomach as we crossed the narrow strip of water between Flanders and England, my first time on a boat and not a happy experience. By the time we made land, I was as weak as a kitten, and more or less crawled ashore. We rested in an inn on a wild part of the coast, and then we travelled on. I was quite determined to hate the place, and sulked for for the first part of the journey. Abu continued to teach me this and that, but we could not conduct proper lessons on the road, though he insisted I continue to practice my English.

As a child in Burgos, I had been thin and underfed and ill-grown. The months in Aquitaine had seen me grow in all directions. For the first time in my life I had been well fed, and so my flesh now covered my bones, and my skin and hair grew brighter, and my legs longer. Weeks on the road worked the flesh off again, though we still ate well enough, and instead I grew strong. My muscles no longer ached at the end of each day's riding, and my skin no longer blistered under the reigns. By the time we arrived at our destination, I had the appearance of a tough young wayfarer, journey-stained and road-hardened.

And so we came at last to the great homestead where dwelt Abu's friend. It was deep in the heartland of the old kingdom of Wessex, a few leagues from the walls of the city of Badum, set amid rolling, forest-covered hills. It was a vast hall, surrounded by a smaller buildings, farm fields, and a high wattle fence. A year before I might have been impressed, but I had seen much on my travels, and fancied myself a man of the world. We travelled with no servants or guard, for Abu needed none, and must have looked like vagabonds as we rode up to the outer fence. However, as soon as Abu spoke his name, the gates were opened for us, and a tall, broad-shouldered old man was striding towards us across the yard.

"Abu Al-Sadiq! It has been too many years, my old friend!" the man exclaimed, in English spoken with an accent I could barely understand.

"Beorhtric, I come to you at last," my master answered. They embraced, and broke away, smiling.

"And who is the lad?" the man called Beorhtric asked. "Your son?"

"Nay, my apprentice. He goes by the name of Salazar." Abu never called me anything but Salazar; what had begun as a joke had become an easy habit.

"Salazar?" The man looked quizzically at me from behind great white eyebrows. "Kin of the Salazars of Castile?"

"Some sort of kin, aye," Abu agreed. "But of a minor branch. The boy is a promising wizard. And Salazar, this is my old friend, Beorhtric Hwit, whom I met in Frankia many years ago, when we were both young."

"You were younger than I, Abu." He turned to me. "You speak English then, lad? Very good. You must meet the boy I have staying here myself. You will be much of an age with him. Now, come. Hildegard will be glad to see you, Abu."

We followed him towards the hall, where we were introduced to his wife, Hildegard, herself a great witch, or so Abu had told me. These people and their ways were foreign to me, but they were kind. We were given hot water to wash the dirt of the road away, and then invited to sit before the fire, and given ale and oatcakes, for the meal would not be for some time. Beorhtric and Hildegard sat with us, and they and Abu spoke of times past, of battles fought in Frankia, and of King Aethelred's ongoing feuds with the Scots of Strathclyde and the dukes of Normandy. Then they fell to speaking about spells and potions and great wizarding duels. I did not understand everything, but I listened closely, letting their words fall over me like a song.

"And who is the lad you spoke of, Beorhtric?" Abu asked at last. "Some kin of yours?"

"By blood, no," Beorhtric answered. "Do you mind a lad called Gryffydd, who was with us in Frankia? Hardly more than an apprentice himself at the time, but good with a sword as well as a wand?"

"The Welsh boy? Aye, I recall him. But he'd be a man grown by this time."

"A man grown, true enough," Beorhtric agreed. "And advanced far. He is one of the king's most honoured thegns, and spends half the year at Aethelred's side. Aethelred likes to have a wizard or two in his services, and he rewards generously. This hall you sit in is his thanks to me, for my years of service."

I knew that it was not my place to ask questions, but I was puzzled by these words. It seemed that wizards in England had no need to hide what they were, which was right to my mind. But I did not understand why a wizard as great as Beorhtric must be would serve a Muggle, and speak so cheerfully of it, as if it did not demean him.

"The lad I have taken on is Gryff's boy," Beorhtric went on, knowing nothing of my thoughts. "It is our custom here, you know, for young witches and wizards to go away from home, to learn their arts from others. Gryff knows that I am a warrior as well as a wizard, and he asked me to take his eldest son, some ten years ago now. I have taken all his children willingly, for they show much promise. The boy who is here at the moment ought to be Gryff's third son, but the eldest, Leofric, was killed in Strathclyde last year – a bad business when sons are taken before their fathers." Beorhtric shook his head, looking downcast for a moment, but then smiled again. "He's out hawking just now – spends most of his life outside – but he'll be back before long and you can meet him. He's a very talented young wizard, and a good boy, if a little wild."

I wasn't very sure how I felt about this. Most of the boys I had played with in my life had been very clearly my inferiors. Now here was one who was not only a wizard, but might be as good a wizard as myself. And while I had been born in a hovel, he had evidently been born in a great hall like this one, and had a father who was somebody important, even if he did serve a Muggle king. I made up my mind not to tell this boy of where I had come from.

He came in just before the meal, as Hildegard directed her serving girls with plates of meat – more meat than I had ever seen together. Abu and Beorhtric were still deep in talk, and I sat beside them on a small stool, beginning to feel a little bored. I spotted the boy before they did and knew immediately who he must be as he came in the main doors from outside. He might have been my age, or a year or two older, but he was taller than me, and already broad-shouldered, with a mane of tawny hair and a wind-swept appearance.

A moment later, Beorhtric had seen him and called him to us. With one hand on the boy's shoulder, he explained our presence and introduced us.

"And this young scapegrace," he finished, "is my ward, Godric."

The boy smiled widely at me.

"Pleased to meet you," he said courteously, then immediately went on. "Do you like to hunt? I have my own hawk; you shall meet her if you want!"

"I've never hunted with hawks," I answered quietly. I had never hunted at all, unless I counted hitting the odd rabbit with a slingshot outside Burgos, but I would not tell this thegn's son that.

"Oh! Well, I shall show you!" he announced, and made as if to take me out at once, but Hildegard bustled up to us.

"After the meal, if you please, Godric," she said. "And have a care to your manners! Salazar has had a long journey to get here – he will be too tired for your hawks."

"Very well, Mistress," Godric agreed meekly, but winked at me as soon as she was gone. "After we sup," he whispered, as we were ushered towards the table. Swept along with him, I could do nothing but nod my agreement. And thus was my first meeting with the boy who would become known as Godric Gryffindor, the lion of the west.