Guild Mage: Apprentice

11. Judgement

When Liv and the two mages returned to the great hall, the footmen were just clearing away the last of the midday meal. Liv ran her thumb over the polished piece of Aluthet’Staia set into the ring on her finger; now that she was an apprentice, did that mean that three mages had walked into the hall? The thought made her smile, and she tried to walk a little straighter so that her master wouldn’t think badly of her.

"Excellent," Baron Summerset remarked, leaning back in his chair. "Let us resolve this matter. First - the question of whether the mage guild is legally capable of speaking on Miss Brodbeck’s behalf. Master Grenfell, Magis Jurian, is Liv Brodbeck, or is she not, a member of your guild? Yes or no, please."

"Yes," Master Jurian said, clearly. "With her consent, I have taken this girl as my apprentice." He placed his left hand on her shoulder.

"This is nothing but a technicality," Mayor Cooper sputtered. "I object."

"First of all," Jurian said, "neither the office of the mayor, nor any other guild, nor even Baron Summerset, has any authority over who the mages’ guild chooses to accept or reject as a member. That is entirely an internal matter, as it is for every other guild in the kingdom. Certainly, the Hall of Bricklayers and Masons would never permit interference in regulating their own membership, would they Master Cooper?"

The mayor’s face flushed, and Lady Julianne turned to regard him evenly. "That is a fair question, Mayor. Would you?"

"Of course not," Alban Cooper answered, gruffly. "But our apprentices are not taken on a whim, over a meal. They earn their positions with hard work, and are held to strict standards."

"I also hold my apprentice to strict standards," Jurian agreed, with a smile. "Which is one of the reasons I saw fit to accept Apprentice Brodbeck. In fact, over a meal, she has learned to cast her first spell. I doubt many other apprentices in the kingdom could do the same."

"Learning a spell is no quick process," the baron broke in. "When my father taught me to use our hereditary word of power, it took me months to master the incantations."

"We are prepared to prove the claim," Jurian said. "If it is in doubt."

"Proceed," Baron Henry instructed.

It took only a few moments for the castle guards to bring in a target from the armory, consisting of straw woven and bound into concentric circles, affixed to a tripod of wood to hold it about the height of a grown man’s chest. The guards placed it just inside the door to the great hall, and Liv was told to stand alone at the foot of the high table, facing the target. At Mayor Cooper’s insistence, to be certain there was no aid or interference, both Master Grenfell and Magis Jurian were forced to stand off to the side, leaving Liv to juggle her crutch and her open bestiary.

It would have been much more convenient if she was confident in recalling the entire incantation, but no matter how much the word itself paced restlessly at the back of her mind, the rest of the phrase had not stuck in quite the same way. Liv supposed it made sense; some things were a great deal more difficult to scrub off a cast iron skillet than others, and it seemed foolish to assume words of power all behaved the same.

"This is ridiculous," Mayor Cooper scoffed, as Liv struggled to hold the book open.

"It isn’t the girl’s fault her ankle is broken," Lady Julianne shot back. "But I agree, this is ridiculous. Archibald, hold the book for her."

"Me?" For the first time in Liv’s entire life, the first footman lost his composure in front of the family. "But it is magic, m’lady," he protested.

"It is perfectly safe," Magis Jurian called from the wall at the side of the hall, where he’d been exiled for the moment. "Tell him, Kazimir."

Master Grenfell flinched. "The danger is not extreme," he said. "I do not believe it likely you will be injured, First Footman."

With a great huff of displeasure, Archibald descended from where he’d been standing close to the high table, approached Liv, and took the book from her, holding it out as far distant from his body as he could.

"A little lower, please?" Liv asked. Everyone always seemed to forget how small she was. Archibald lowered the book. Liv closed her eyes, took in a deep breath, and held it. When she finally exhaled, she opened her eyes, and looked down at the page.

"Celet’co Scelis’o’Mae!" she sang out, loud and clear, raising her right hand and thrusting it at the straw target. Once again, the words moved up through her body, from her belly into her chest, rumbling as they came, like peals of thunder in a storm. As it had upstairs, a glistening shard of ice, long and sharp, coalesced in the air in front of Liv’s hand, floating there as if held by some invisible assistant.

Only this time, the power roared through her like the Aspen River during flood. More and more ice built up in front of her, until the spell had created more of a jagged spear or sword than a dagger. Liv thrust her hand forward, trying to cut off the flow of magic before it grew completely out of her control.

The frozen missile streaked forward, piercing the target with such force that it split in half, pieces of broken wood and tufts of straw falling to either side. The shard of ice, in the meanwhile, buried itself in one of the two wooden doors that hung at the entrance to the hall, and with a great crack, the wood shattered outward. Liv, exhausted, fell, and would have hit the floor if Archibald had not dropped the book and caught her up in his arms.

"I believe," Magis Jurian said, striding forward, "that we have sufficiently proved my Apprentice’s talent. Liv Brodbeck is a member of the mage’s guild, and she will attend the College of Vædic Grammar when she comes of age."

"The girl is clearly a mage," Summerset said, with a scowl. "I will deduct the damage from her wages."

"It was you who insisted on the demonstration," Lady Julienne pointed out.

"Moving forward," the baron said. "Yes, as a member of the mage’s guild, it is appropriate for Magis Jurian to speak on her behalf."

"And, in fact," her master continued, "It is my obligation as her master, given that she is not of age. I request that Apprentice Brodbeck be excused from the remainder of these proceedings."

"I suspect that I do," Master Jurian said. "But I am not certain. I would only be making a guess, based on the evidence available to me. That is a conversation you should have with your mother, Apprentice. I would prefer not to interfere. In any event, we have a great deal to do before I leave."

"Livy!" At the end of the hall, her hands covered in flour, Mama stood, her eyes moving between the two men standing to either side of her daughter.

"Miss Brodbeck," Master Grenfell said. "Allow me to introduce you to Magis Jurian of Carinthia. He has accepted your daughter as his apprentice."

"Does that mean the trouble with the guilds is over?" Liv’s mother asked. "Why don’t you all come into the kitchen," she said, stepping back to make way. "There’s no room in Liv’s room for all of you, and you look like you could use a pot of tea."

Grenfell held himself awkwardly, and Liv tried to recall whether she had ever actually seen him in the kitchen before. It wasn’t proper for a member of the family - or their court - to be spending time in the servants’ quarters, any more than it would be proper for Sophie to be caught lounging around the hot spring baths.

Jurian, on the other hand, sat down at the same table where the servants took their meals, utterly at ease. "Thank you, Mistress," he said to Gretta, accepting a cup of steaming tea. "Talking so much is dry work."

Liv hadn’t realized how cold her fingers were until she had them wrapped around her own cup. Instead of putting it down on the table after she took a sip, she continued to cradle it in her hands, absorbing the warmth. "Am I going to feel cold every time I use that word?" she asked.

"Hard to say," Master Grenfell said. "It is not one that I have ever witnessed, until you. Something for us to keep an eye on. The next time you use it, you will take careful notes immediately on everything you feel."

"This, too, is part of how we learn," Master Jurian said. "We try things, we see what happens, and then we record the results. Not only for ourselves, but for our colleagues. Even after we are gone, they can learn from our mistakes." He took another sip. "As to your question, Miss Brodbeck, yes, I believe the matter is settled. The baron has made his judgement, and it would be foolish on their part to take this to the Duke of Courland. He has had a good relationship with the guild since he attended college at Coral Bay as a young man."

"That’s good," Liv’s mother said, visibly relaxing.

"Once Liv has had a moment to catch her breath," Jurian said, "I would like to take her into town, if you do not mind."

"What for?" Mama looked Jurian up and down. "She has her afternoon duties to attend to, still."

"I understand that," the mage replied. "But I cannot remain here long, and I want to see your daughter properly situated with everything she will need before I leave. Is there a bookseller in town?"

"On High Street," Master Grenfell answered. "I imagine your apprentice will know where."

"And a place to purchase mana-infused food?" Master Jurian asked.

"That will be more difficult," Grenfell said. "There are two people who supply the baron with that sort of food, for special occasions, but there aren’t enough mages here to support a shop the year round. For herbs, nuts, berries and the like you would need to go downriver to Fairford, and ask for Aunt Rhea."

"She’s the local witch," Liv supplied, helpfully.

Gretta huffed. "She isn’t a witch," the old woman said. "She’s a midwife, and she grows the best garlic around."

"As to the meat," Master Grenfell said, "Apprentice Brodbeck has already met the best hunter in town."

"Master Forester?" Liv guessed. "If we go visit him, I could make sure his daughter is well, also."

"Good," Jurian said. "Before we go, a matter of some delicacy. "Mistress Brodbeck, it seems clear to me that your daughter’s father is one of the Eld. I am not asking you to name him, but can you confirm for me that the man in question was full-blooded? Not partially human?"

"Yes," Mama said, after a long moment. "Liv is half Eld, half human."

"Excellent. And I imagine your local chirurgeon has told you that she is not growing as fast as she should," Jurian continued.

"And my bones," Liv said. "Master Chushing says I have brittle bones. That’s why my ankle broke."

"Let us see what we can do about that, shall we?" Jurian said. "Kazamir, you’ve never gone over the mountains to Al’Fenthia, have you?"

"I have not," Master Grenfell admitted.

"Did you know," Master Jurian said, turning to Liv, "that when I went to Al’Fenthia, I noticed that all of the Eld eat food grown or hunted from near a rift? Mages do, when we can get it, because it helps to replenish us, but I have a theory, and you are going to help me test it."

"What do I have to do?" Liv asked.

"You need to eat," her master answered. "And keep careful notes. Let us see what we can do about helping you grow properly, Apprentice."