Chapter 1 : A New Beginning
Lena del Mar, Lena of the Sea, for lack of a proper name, yawned and stretched. It was mid-afternoon and there was just enough time to help Madame DuBois with supper and a little herb-gardening before night fell. Then, she would join her troop of players to sing, dance, and do a bit of acting or "magic" in the market-place. Lena had a small Gift and could bring light and create sparks for show as well as a strong Sight, which made her invaluable to players even loosely connected with The Rogue. This was how she earned her money and her keep with Madame DuBois, an old healing woman of little talent in Port Cayne. She had been entrusted to Madame DuBois and her brother, Jeremy's other Roguish friends two years ago when her brother had signed on as a sailor and gone in search of their father. He had been saving for this opportunity, working with the Rogue, since their mother's death, six years ago. She had not heard from him since.
Lena was met in the kitchen by the aging Madame DuBois.
"I was just coming to wake you, child." She said. "I need some help with the fire. "Could you…?" she wiggled her fingers.
"Oh, of course." Lena cupped her hands over the small flame, and soon there was a roaring fire, emitting small green sparks.
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After she had eaten, Lena combed out her dark blonde hair, dressed her small 5'2" frame in patched costume, and layered dark paints around her green eyes and red lips. She peered at herself in the looking glass and stood on her toes. At thirteen, there was little hope of her growing again, but she could still dream! Even with her small, slight stature, she was deadly with a knife in her hand, so she concealed a few (up a sleeve, in her skirts, behind her back), and hung one around her waist on a rope so all would know she was armed and be wary. She took her hair out of its horse-tail and headed for the market-place as usual. She had no idea how much her life was about to change.
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"Quite a crowd today," commented Jeremy's best friend, Tobias, a fire-eater. "There's talk of the King's men in the city, and the Queen's Riders as well."
"Well, then, I'll have to keep an extra close watch then, won't I?" she replied, knowing that with all those nobles around, the Provost would have a doubly close guard. "Don't worry. I can spot danger a mile away."
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It all happened so fast, Lena had almost no recollection of how exactly it had happened. Usually, while performing, her audience's faces became a blur, none distinguishable from the other unless prompted by her Sight to be so. This was one of those faces. He wasn't a guard. No, in fact, there was no indication of trouble at all, but, nonetheless, a sun-tanned face, framed by coal black curls and lit up by amazingly bright blue eyes became particularly clear. He was about two years her senior, dressed commonly, but she noted an air of authority around him. She would glimpse him every few seconds, weaving in and out of the crowds. Eventually, this became dizzying, and her usually good balance failed her. She fell hard and heard a loud snap. 'Well, there goes tonight's wages,' she thought, as she drifted into darkness, not even noticing when her head hit the hard ground.
It was a few hours later that the Provost's guards swarmed into the market, taking away any vendors or players who seemed a "danger." All the chaos awoke Lena and, realizing the danger, she started to jump up. Pain seared through her foot and ankle. It was swollen beyond belief and definitely broken. She cursed silently. How was she to get away? A cart! Not far away, only a few yards. She could manage that, surely. As quickly as she could, she scrambled to the grain-filled cart and managed to climb inside. She would stay there until it was all over, and then, surely, someone would come for her. With that thought to comfort her, she fell back into darkness.
When she awoke, she vaguely noted that the cart was moving. 'how interesting.' She thought, and drifted back into healing sleep.
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"Look how ragged her clothes are. She must be a gypsy of some kind. And look at her foot. It's disgusting!" Lena heard through the mist that seemed to have engulfed her senses.
"Well," it was a haughty, mocking tone this time, "We have to report her, I suppose."
This last comment penetrated the mist and rang clear in her ears. Reported? It was daylight now. Who had found her? Forgetting her injuries to head and ankle, she pulled her knife from its sheath in her sleeve, but her coordination hadn't fully returned yet. She fumbled and cut herself. Blood oozed from the cut, but she ignored it, trying to jump to her feet. She reeled, in a world of pain, blinking stars from her eyes. The boys laughed at her efforts as she tried over and over to get away. Jeers and laughter filled her mind as she fell again, landing on her knife and watching as a pool of blood formed around her good leg. Just before she fainted, she heard a more pleasant voice and opened her eyes to see the face of the boy from the marketplace.
"Joel, what do you think you're doing?" his voice was commanding as he came over to investigate. "Gods! It's the little dancer from the marketplace. How did she get here?" he asked, accusingly. As the boys protested, "Never mind. Be sure Lord Raoul will speak with you, and I shall as well. Now, she needs a good healer…." Lena didn't know what else was said. She had lost consciousness.
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When she woke, she was on a cot, in a strange tent. She turned her head to see intense blue eyes looking up at her from a book.
She awakens." He said, closing his book.
"Where am I?" Lena asked, groggily.
"Somewhere en route to Scanra. I'm not sure precisely."
"Scanra!" She sat bolt upright, but was sorry she had, and lay back down, weakly. "How did I get here? And, how will I get back to Corus?"
"We can't take you back to Corus, sadly," he answered. "This is war. We can't turn the entire company of the King's Own and Queen's Riders around. That's the reason you still hurt." He added, as she groaned. "We can't spare healers either. I just patched you up as best I could without draining my strength too much." With her Sight, she could see that he had an extremely powerful Gift. "How you got here, you'll have to tell me."
Sensing that he wanted to help her, Lena told him as much as she could remember of the past few days, omitting that he had been the reason for her fall.
"Interesting." Was all he answered. "Well, I'm traveling, and you too, I suppose, to Scanra with my knightmaster, Lord Raoul of Goldenlake and Malory's Peak. I'm his squire, you see. We won't be anywhere near the front, but it's still thrilling to be going into battle, like a real knight!" This was the first time he'd betrayed his age with boyishness. "Speaking of which, you need to meet with Raoul. We have to figure out what to do with you. We'll give you a job or something, of course. What can you do?"
A job? Maybe things weren't as bad as she'd thought. "Oh, a little cooking, and herblore."
He nodded. "Are you up for it now?" He remembered as he was ducking out of the tent. "Oh, by the way, what is your name?"
"Oh, Lena. Lena del Mar." He nodded and re-opened the tent flap. Just as he left, she remembered her manners. "Might I know the name of my rescuer?" she asked.
He hesitated visibly and she almost thought she'd seen him flinch. "Conte," he replied, finally. "My name is Liam of Conte." This said, he rushed from the tent before the realization of who he was could hit her fully.
Suddenly, as if part of a dream, she remembered that the royal family was known for their coal black curls and brilliant blue eyes, as well as their down-to-earth natures. 'A prince,' she marveled. 'I've been speaking with a prince.' It would be hard to say if she then fainted from shock or fatigue.
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Lena awoke to the sounds of three or four voices talking at once. She attempted to keep her eyes shut. Maybe this would all be a bad dream, but when her vision cleared, the Prince and three other noble-looking characters, two men and a woman stared down at her. The men were rather imposing figures. One, muscular and large, the other was abnormally tall and could only be some type of strong sorcerer, judging by the multitude of magic she saw in him, bursting to get through. The woman was small but extremely sturdy, and all three were tanned with dark features. The woman was definitely K'miri.
"What were you thinking taking her in? She could have robbed your royal self blind!" yelled the larger, bear of a man at the Prince.
"Raoul!" chided the woman, at his elbow. "I know you're only looking out for your squire, our prince's" she nodded in his direction. "well being, but let's be rational and please use civil tones! The girl's too hurt to do any harm, and gods know what would have become of her had he left her to the men. He did the only thing he could."
"But he did it without consulting me!" retorted the knight. "Buri, don't…" he broke off as the other man raised his hand.
"She's awake," was all he said. She noticed he was gazing at her quite intently and she felt an itch toward the back of her brain.
"Well, young lady, Liam tells us you've taken quite a beating." Said the woman.
"Yes, milady." Lena quickly responded, breathless. Somehow, this was hilarious to the large knight and he roared with laughter. The Prince covered his face to hide a grin, and even the tall, dark man's mouth twitched with a smile.
"Oh, shutup, you!" the lady exclaimed. To Lena, she said, "I am Buri, Commander of the Queen's Riders. You may address me as Commander, or, if you like, in private, Buri, but never milady. I am not a noble. This is Lord Raoul, a knight of the realm and Commander of the King's Own, and this is His Highness's resident mage, Master Numair Salmalin. Unfortunately, we cannot take you back home, but thus are the demands of war. We will find you a position in camp as soon as you can use crutches. I believe the cook needs a new scullery maid. Is that agreeable to you?" Lena nodded. Commander Buri proceeded to ask several questions about her age and family situation, looking to Master Salmalin for confirmation after each. When she was satisfied, she ordered her to move to the infirmary and stay there until which time she could take up her scullery maid position.
Yet again, Master Salmalin raised his hand for quiet. "The girl shall not be moved." He stated simply. Then, seeing the confused stares of the other four, shook his head. "I forgot. Not all of you can see Magic… Well, got to begin somewhere, I suppose." He turned to Buri. "Your scullery maid, my lady, possesses the strongest Sight I've ever seen; stronger than our spymaster's I'll wager." Still seeing the others' confusion, he changed tactics. "For gods' sakes, people! The girl is a mage in her own right, though a raw one. She needs to be taught, not bossed around by some cook while her talents go to waste. Besides, we had a problem, remember? She brings a solution. She and the Prince will spend every waking moment together. She will have weapons training and magic lessons with him. They will become tuned to each other, and her Sight will work for him. Then, when he must fight, he has a... guard of sorts."
"But, Uncle Numair, I don't need a guard! I can fight on my own! I'm fifteen passed." complained the Prince.
"Your father requests it." The mage informed him. Prince Liam pouted.
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