Took me long enough to get this out.

CHAPTER TEN

I held the ball of fire in my hand, satisfied with my work.

"It's not good enough." Master Salmalín announced.

His voice distracted me and the gray fire exploded in my face. It didn't harm me, but I felt the warmness lick my face before it disappeared. I sighed. That was the fifth exploding ball of fire in just a half of an hour. Still, I thought I'd made excellent progress. I'd only been in Corus for a week.

"You've got nothing even resembling control." Master Salmalín continued. "The spell I'm going to perform on you will hold your Gift back so that you can learn without hurting yourself." He narrowed his eyes for a moment, then smiled. "Light this tinder on fire."

The previous times that I had used my Gift, the magic flowed from me easily. This time, I was forced to struggle. I sat quietly for almost an hour, trying not to let my mind wander onto more interesting things. Finally I grew bored of the tedious exercise.

"Nothing's happening." I frowned, concentrating on the tinder in front of me.

"You're not trying hard enough." Master Salmalín didn't even look up, but kept flipping through his book.

I gritted my teeth and focused on the tinder, trying to catch it on fire. I would have settled for a tiny amount of smoke, but could not even get that.

"Concentrate." Master Salmalín advised.

Fury boiled up in my veins and I leaped up, knocking back my chair. "Gods curse it, can't you see that's what I'm doing?"

To my horror, the book that the mage was reading burst into flames. He flung it away and watched it smolder on the floor. "Not exactly the result I was hoping for." He remarked amiably.

I was in for it. I knelt on the floor. "Milord, I am really very sorry. I didn't mean to lose my temper, milord. I promise that it won't happen again. Please, milord."

He wasn't even looking at me, but still staring at the book. He turned to me quickly and I flinched. His face was eager though, not angry. "Do you think you could do that again? Break through my restraining spell? You were only supposed to be able to make a tiny flame." He looked at me curiously. "What are you doing on the floor?"

I stood, brushing off my knees. "Nothing, milord."

The mage closed his eyes and I felt an odd tickling feeling. He opened his eyes again and looked surprised. "You destroyed my protection completely."

"It was an accident, milord." I shrugged, fairly sure that he would not punish me. The book lay forgotten on the floor.

"It was excellent." The mage's eyes sparkled. "Let's try it again."

My mind panicked, searching for an excuse.

A page brought the excuse for me. He handed a note to Master Salmalín, looking at him with awe and fear. The mage read it and looked at me. "The king wants to see us in his private council chamber."

I was relieved for the interruption, but a little apprehensive. I knew it was about; the slave rebellion on the fief was still fresh in everyone's minds. A small and mistrustful part of me was still worried that I was going to be punished for my part in the rebellion.

The council room was small and only filled with a few people. The Lioness sat near King Jonathon and the beautiful queen. A big, pale man sat next to Mistress Daine, chatting amiably with a shorter, bearded man. Young Lord Farren sat quietly to the side. His blue eyes were tired and sad. Their talking ceased when King Jonathon saw us and stood.

"Thank you all for being here. We need to discuss the recent issue of slavery in Fief Dunstable. The lord is currently in training as a page. He came forth on his own and alerted us to the crimes being committed on his fief. I have concluded that Lord Farren should not be punished in any way. Agreed?"

There was an unanimous nod.

The big, pale man stood and nudged a stack of papers to the side. "The next matter to discuss is the fief itself. By the last count, twenty-eight men and women wish to remain on the fief. The other former slaves have been killed in the rebellion or have chosen to return to their homes. I propose that forty-five percent of all profits made on the land and animals of the fief be distributed among those who work it."

"What say you, Page Farren?" King Jonathon asked kindly.

Young Lord Farren stood with a jerky bow. "Your majesty, it's just me and my brother and my sisters now. We don't need very much. We owe them, besides."

King Jonathon quickly looked around the group. He seemed to be satisfied with the nods of approval. "Forty-five percent it is."

Lord Farren sat back down. His eyes met mine, but he quickly pulled them away.

"Do you wish to continue your training, Page Farren?" The pale man questioned the boy.

Lord Farren hesitated. "Who will look after the fief, your grace?"

"Do you have anyone you trust who could do the job?" The pale man, a Duke, frowned.

Young Lord Farren began to shook his head, but bit his lip and turned to me. "Adda? Could one of your crew do it?"

My mind ran through the possibilities. "I'd say Rolph, milord, but he left. Evrett could do it, I suppose. Mathias would be better, but I'm not sure what he's gone and done with himself."

"Mathias?" Lord Farren's forehead crinkled.

I remembered that Lord Farren had left for Corus just before Mathias had been transferred to our crew. "He's smart and fair, milord. They both are."

"Mathias, your Grace." Lord Farren answered the duke. "Evrett, if it can't be Mathias."

"So be it." The Duke nodded and scribbled something down on a piece of paper. He looked towards the king. "Jon, is that it?"

King Jonathon shook his head. "We're trying to find the men who sold slaves to Lord Amrold. If we punish them, we may be able to prevent something like this from ever happening again. Adda, if you don't mind, can you tell us how you become a slave?"

I stood, because it seemed to be the thing to do when speaking in a council. After bowing slightly, I answered the king. "Your majesty, I was eight, I think. I lived in Corus. They smuggled us out in the night. We were all chained up."

"Do you remember the men?" King Jonathon leaned forward.

I shook my head. "No, your majesty. We had sacks over our heads. There were only a couple other children. The rest were men and women and they were all poor, like me. When we got to the fief, the mage looked us over and he saw I had the Gift. He put bands on my wrists, to keep me from using it." I pulled up the cuffs of my sleeves to show them the identical scars on my wrists from the chafing metal.

"Is there anything else you remember?" The king questioned.

I squinted, trying to remember. "I was crying, sir. One of the men knocked me down, but another stopped him afore he did worse. He said that damaged goods didn't sell as well in the market. But he said market funny, like it wasn't really a market..

The short, chubby man frowned. "Jon, the market is a term for a network of smugglers and their buyers. It isn't likely that we'll be able to search out the slavers. I'll give him the word though."

Master Salmalín stroked his chin thoughtfully. "We could find your family. It wouldn't be easy, but-"

"No." I interrupted. "Milord, I don't want that."

Master Salmalín didn't look very surprised and nodded his agreement.

"You have a place with us, as long as Numair is your tutor." King Jonathon reassured me. He looked around the group. "I suppose we're finished here."

"Praise the Gods." Lady Alanna muttered, lifting herself from her seat.

"We've still one more meeting." The Duke reminded her, tucking the stack of papers under his arm.

Lady Alanna groaned.

"You agreed to be King's Champion, if I remember correctly." The Duke pointed out mildly, following the lady from the room.

"I was misled." The Lioness joked.

Lord Farren caught my arm. "Adda?" His small body was trembling with repressed emotion and his lips began to quiver. "I should've told sooner. If I had, then things wouldn't have gone so wrong. It was my fault."

Young Lord Farren looked so sad, his blond hair mussed and his eyes red. I knelt down and hugged him. He let himself cry in my arms, his shuddering sobs short and ragged. I smoothed his hair down. The others left the room, allowing the boy his privacy as he wept.

"My mama taught me about chivalry." Lord Farren pulled away to look at me, his voice bitter and hurt. "I should have listened. Now she won't ever know that I did the right thing. Never."

"Like as not, she's watching for you." I soothed. "She knows."

"Do you really believe that?" Lord Farren asked. "I don't."

There was nothing I could say to take away his pain, so I held him. When he stopped trembling and my tunic began to dry, Lord Farren took a deep breath and wriggled from my hug.

"You alright, then?" I asked.

Lord Farren nodded. "How long will you be in Corus?"

"As long as Master Salmalín wants to teach me." I shrugged.

"He's teaching you?" Lord Farren's jaw dropped. "Can you do anything yet?"

I ruefully shook my head. "I'd better not, not without the mage here. I've got no control."

"Please?" Lord Farren grinned at me, even though his smile was a little watery.

I held out my hand and concentrated on my palm. I felt calmer than I had since the rebellion. A small ball of fire appeared and burned brightly in my hand. I let it grow a little bigger, then blew on it and watched it float in the air.

"Nice." Lord Farren approved. "It's pretty."

I agreed. "Some mages have got flashy colors, like black or violet, but I like my gray."

"I'm glad that you'll be around." The boy told me. "Lord haMinch keeps us busy, but I still might see you."

He gave me one last hug and began to leave the room.

"Wait!" I called to him. "Fief Dunstable should be proud to have you its lord. I know I am."

Lord Farren smiled at me gratefully and left.

I went back to my room. I had learned the corridors well enough to find my way around, as long as someone could show me the way first. I turned the key in the door and pushed it open.

My room was just down the hall from Master Salmalín's. It wasn't as large as most of the nobles' rooms, which I was glad for. I didn't need that much space anyway. My room was as large as my old shack and there was even an indoor privy in a little closet to the side. The bed was in the middle of the room, with the head pushed up against the wall. There was a chest to put my clothes in and a large bearskin rug by the fireplace. I was comfortable enough on the rug, with the blankets piled on top of me.

I slept on the rug because I didn't like the bed. Sleeping on it didn't feel right, because it was raised so high above the ground. I could learn to sleep on it, just as I could learn to do the magic that Master Salmalín taught. None of it felt natural, but nothing did anymore.

So, Hunchbook said that I should have ended this fanfic after Chapter 8 and made this the chapters I'm adding right now into a sequel. The thing is, the slave rebellion is such a small part of Adda's story. It's just the beginning. I'd end up with 6 fanfics and I think I'd rather make it one big part.

Well, you guys are my readers and I thought I'd ask for your advice. Besides, I have no idea what to do.