[LATE SUMMER - SEPTEMBER]
My small business with Roisin prospers nicely. As she predicted, the villagers have enough trust in her to overcome their fear and distrust of me. The large quantity of menthol, both of our crops of devil's claw and all the wild meadowsweet we could gather from down the road went into our salves. The older folk of Heston insist that they simply cannot get on without them once the weather turns cold. I wonder, at times, if it is not the visit from Roisin that they cannot get on without.
My suspicion is based on my own reactions. I have always been solitary and self sufficient, but that, like many other things in my life, seems to have changed. I find myself looking forward to Roisin's occasional visits, and am aware of disappointment when she does not come. Perhaps I got used to having someone about because of my students.
I find that I am not looking forward to the winter. While Roisin assures me that the weather here is mild compared to what I am used to, it is not the weather that concerns me—at least not directly. With no garden to tend or plants to harvest, I will have much free time to fill and such time palls on me. I find the binding of my magic especially galling at such times. The council made a fuss over my 'outstanding' abilities, but the truth is simply that I put more time and effort into my magic than most. I spent many solitary hours honing my spells to a fine edge. That option is no longer open to me.
Now, what shall I do with myself?
It was quite possible, even probable, that Roisin would come today. With that on his mind, after he had baked his bread, Niall had baked a goodly batch of tarts.Once that was done, he set about putting his kitchen to rights. It was a surprise when he heard a tap on his front door, for two reasons. First, because Roisin always came to the kitchen door, and second because she never knocked. Actually, she never had to, as he always met her, having heard her pony cart.
Curiosity warred for a moment with fear. Shaking his head at his own foolishness, Niall went toward the door. An enemy would hardly knock, after all. A momentary sensation of warning brought him up short. He had been about to check his visitor with magic. Niall frowned, then sighed, and reached for the door.
It opened to reveal a rather thin and unkempt pre-adolescent boy, who was plainly nervous and trying very hard not to show it. His windblown hair was light brown and his eyes—seen briefly when he glanced momentarily upward—were silvery gray. In his hands was a basket—the one Roisin normally had Niall's meat in when she came. Niall's eyes narrowed. Had the lad stolen the basket? No, no, of course not. In that case he would hardly have brought his pilfered goods here, of all places. The boy fidgeted under Niall's gaze, but did not speak.
"Well, lad," Niall finally asked in a firm tone. "Are you mute, or are you going to explain why you are here with my meats instead of Roisin?"
"OH!" The boy's gaze snapped to Niall's face and his own reddened. "Sorry, um, sir." The lad swallowed, dropping his gaze to the ground. "Miss Roisin sent me ahead wif yer basket." He held the basket out at full arms length.
Looking the boy over, Niall felt an odd pang of recognition. Too thin, not entirely clean, awkward and uneasy, the boy reminded him of someone—himself at the same age. Although much more cared for under Roisin's eye than Niall had been in his village, the boy had a look Niall recognized easily. It was that realization that brought the memory of the lad's identity.
This must be Torash, a local orphan of unknown parentage and origins. Roisin had told Niall how the boy had appeared from nowhere, half starved, about a year ago. Finding that no one was going to stone him or lock him up, the lad had stayed, but had not accepted any offers to sleep in anyone's home, including Roisin's. He kept his independence by erecting a shelter of sorts behind the General Store, and made a few pennies and food by doing odd jobs around the village. The boy told Roisin that he was about ten years when he arrived, but his exact date of birth was uncertain.
"Well then, lad," said Niall in the same tone he had used on his students, "You had best come in and wait for her arrival." He stepped back and swung the door wide. Plainly nervous, the boy nevertheless stepped inside. Niall closed the door, then reached out and took the basket. "The kitchen is this way," he said, leading the way. Putting his meat in the cold room, he returned to the kitchen to find Torash standing uneasily just inside the doorway.
"So, do you have a name, boy?" Niall asked, stopping in front of the lad.
"Ash," blurted the boy, his gaze flicking up to Niall's face, then back to the floor. "M' name's Torash, but folks call me Ash."
"Well, Torash," said Niall, "What name do you prefer?"
"I like Ash, all right," replied the boy, edging further into the room and looking around, eyes wide.
"Ash it is, then," said Niall, gesturing to the small table. "Go ahead and sit down." Ash scuttled over and perched on the edge of a chair, poised as though for flight. Niall recognized that familiar pose from his past, and his tone softened. "I was about to have a snack." He took up the plate of tarts and sat them on the table. "Have some tarts, if you are hungry." He turned to put the kettle on the stove for his tea.
Watching out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ash looking hungrily at the tarts. It took a long minute of struggle before hunger won out over caution, and the boy reached for a tart. He nearly chuckled at the look on the lad's face at the first taste. Ash's surprise at the goodness of Niall's baked goods was obvious. Finishing the tart, the boy did not take another, although he gazed longingly at the plate.
"Do you want a cup of tea, Ash?" Niall asked. The boy started, but nodded.
"Yes, please," said Ash. "Sir."
"Have another tart, lad," said Niall, taking down another cup. "There is plenty." Watching the boy take another, and nibble it with obvious delight, Niall felt his sympathy stir. He had often lingered over his food in like manner, savoring the simple pleasure of having something to eat. Even so, Ash was more at ease than he had been as a lad. The relatively kind treatment he had received from the people of Heston had taken the edge off the boy's fear of strangers. When the tea was ready, he poured two cups and carried them to the table.
"So, Ash," he said, setting one cup before the boy, then taking a seat on the other side of the table. "Was there a particular reason Miss Roisin sent you here ahead of her?" The lad looked at him for a moment as he finished chewing and swallowing the last bit of food, then seemed to come to a decision.
"Well, sir," Ash said, still a bit hesitant. He blew on his tea for a moment before he continued. "Miss Roisin thought it might be good fer me to git outta the village for a bit while Warton calmed down."
"And why was Warton upset?" Niall prompted, when no more information seemed to be forthcoming. He sipped his tea.
"Well, it was an accident," stammered the boy. "Truly it was."
"I do not doubt it," said Niall softly, wondering what mischief the lad had unwittingly caused. "But what happened, precisely?"
"I ..." Ash swallowed, hard. "I nearly set the store on fire," he finally said softly. "I din't mean to. It was just chilly and I was starting my fire and I got startled by Arnett's dog and my fire went on the wall instead of my wood." The lad hung his head. "An' I got so scared I cudn't think an' I took too long to get the water an' it scorched the wall an' smoked into the store an' Warton got upset."
"The fire went on the wall ..." repeated Niall, confused. Then understanding dawned. "You were using magic?"
"Yes, sir," said Ash softly, hanging his head. "Just a little sir, 'cause I was cold and it takes so long with rubbin' the sticks, sir." Tears sprang into the boy's eyes. "Arnett's dog has a loud bark an' he made me jump an' it spurted on the wall instead of my wood."
"I see." The boy plainly had a natural talent, much like his own, and Niall now suspected that Roisin had ulterior motives in sending the lad here. It was obvious that Ash needed to learn control of his magic. The question was, did Niall want to take on the task? More importantly, could Niall take on the task, while not able to use his own magic? "Is this a common occurrence?" Again he sipped his tea.
"Oh, no," Ash assured him hurriedly fiddling with his cup. "I don't use it much." He took a swift sip of tea. "Makes folks nervous."
"I suppose it would bother some," said Niall evenly. "But it does not bother me at all."
"It don't?" The boy looked up, eyes wide.
"No, it does not." And Niall, ignoring the warning tingle, flicked a small flame at the candle, which sputtered to life. The boy was worth the time.
"You ..." Silver gray eyes locked on sapphire ones. "You, too?"
"Yes, lad." Niall leaned back in his chair. "My ability was discovered by an older mage and he taught me how to use it properly." After a moment's consideration, he decided the whole truth was necessary, as rumors must already have circulated around Heston. "As it turned out, he was not a very nice man, and certainly not a good man. I was wrong to follow him and give him my loyalty." Niall shrugged. "He did teach me how to properly wield my magic, however."
"Can you teach me?" Ash leaned forward eagerly. "So I don't burn stuff as I shun't and things like that?"
"I can, do you promise to listen and try your hardest," said Niall. He was rewarded by a look of relief and some vigorous head nodding. "I think, also, that you should come and stay here with me. I have room in the loft. Than we can work on your magic whenever we like."
"Stay here?" A look of doubt settled on Ash's face. He took a gulp of tea. "I dunno ..."
"Yes, yes," said Niall calmly. "I understand boy. I was a lone orphan myself. But do you think Miss Roisin would have sent you here were it not a safe place? Come or go at your pleasure, lad." He leaned back in his chair, keeping his posture non-threatening. "I had to avoid that sort of man, also, and I assure you I am not one of them," he said, his voice hardening.
"You was an orphan?" asked Ash, eyes wide.
"I was," said Niall with a chuckle. "I still am, actually. That does not change with time, lad. The point is, Ash, that it would be easiest and best all round if you stayed near, where I can teach you whenever I have the time."
"Oh." the boy considered for a moment. Watching his face, Niall could see when the desire to learn overcame his wariness. "I could make a lean to here," he suggested.
"You could," agreed Niall, sipping his tea. "It would be simpler if you were in the loft, however. One never knows when the opportunity to learn will come. An apprentice, like Ned at the mill, usually lives with his teacher, so as to be always available." He regarded the still skeptical boy levelly, as his sharp hearing picked up the sound of the pony cart. "You may, of course, ask Miss Roisin if she thinks it to be a good idea." He rose and went to the door, opening it for the cleric. "Good day, Roisin. The lad made it here safely."
"So I see," replied Roisin brightly. "I thought he would. Ash, the pantry is the door at the end of the hall. Would you put the packages from the back of the cart in the pantry, then bring the ones under the seat in for me, please?"
"Yes,m," said Ash around the last bite of tart. Draining his tea, he scuttled off to do her bidding.
"Did he tell you, Niall?" she asked softly once the boy was out of earshot.
"That he has magic? Yes, he did," answered Niall.
"I hope I did not err sending him here." Roisin's usually confident demeanor gave way to uncertainty. "I thought you might be able to help him." She looked up, her eyes full of sympathy. "If it is uncomfortable for you, or you cannot, I will find another answer for him. I do not want to cause you pain, Niall."
"It is all right, Roisin," Niall assured her. Her sincere concern for him warmed him in a manner he found as pleasant as it was surprising. "I hope that the council will not object to my teaching him."
"I will convince Sevaka that it was both necessary and right," said Roisin firmly. "You need not worry on that score. Can you teach him with your own magic bound?"
"It will take some creativity on my part, but I believe I can manage." He couldn't help but smile as she visibly relaxed. "I was, in fact, wondering what I could find to fill my empty hours over the winter. Ash will do nicely. He is hesitant to move into the loft, however."
"Hesitant?" For a moment she looked blank, then realization dawned. Her cheeks pinked a bit, but she nodded decisively. "I will reassure him."
"That will help, I am sure," said Niall. "I have told him that an apprentice usually stays with his teacher."
"Where do I put them, Miss Roisin?" asked Ash as he entered, burdened with her packages.
"Oh, dear," said Roisin, hurrying to take some of the parcels. "I did not realize I had so many. I am sorry, Ash."
"What have you brought, Roisin?" asked Niall, a smile threatening to break loose on his face.
"I planned on making dinner for us all, if you do not mind," said Roisin with a smile. "Of course, you both can help if you like."
"What do you think, Ash?" Niall asked the boy. "Shall we help?"
"Yes, sir!" agreed Ash enthusiastically.
"Well, then," said Roisin, grabbing an apron from a hook, "let us get started."
Niall had to admire Roisin's handling of the boy. Ash was wary and skittish, as most orphans were, but she charmed him easily. By the time they sat down to dinner, Ash had agreed to stay in the loft and Roisin had made a list of extra supplies needed for Niall to take proper care of the lad. It was no real surprise to him. Niall had experienced the power of her genuine concern himself. Her undisguised and unfeigned affection had charmed him as well. Perhaps, he mused, she had a gift for befriending male orphans of any age.
Later that evening, once Roisin had left for home and a sleepy Ash was tucked away in the loft, Niall sat and pondered his new situation. It remained to be seen if he would be allowed to keep Ash as his student for long. Niall was not nearly as confident as Roisin that she could convince the council to let him apprentice the boy. But, as that was out of his control, Niall did as he had at the Scarlet Ossuary—prepared for the best, expected the worst and did what was in front of him.
It would be a challenge tackling the problem of teaching the lad without using his own magic. Yet often, with his students at the keep, the hardest part was getting them to actually USE their already innate ability. As Ash was already using his magic, albeit on a rudimentary level, it was not a problem. With that hurdle eliminated, Niall was confident that he could manage.
Ash clearly had ability with fire, but that did not mean he was limited to that spectrum. Niall was not—which was one of the reasons the council was so wary of him. But the simple fact was that the various schools—fire, earth, water, air, solar and lunar—were often as much a matter of choice as necessity. There was no rule against a non-fire mage learning a fire spell, in fact, most mages could light a campfire or stove easily.
What made Niall exceptional was that he could do any of them equally well. That made him dangerous, to the minds of many, as it made him a perfect candidate for the darker schools of magic—namely necromancy, sorcery and shadowcasting. Some enjoyed the dark magics, as they were based in control, manipulation and exploitation of others. Niall, however, had been victimized enough himself to have developed a distaste for victimizing others. As a result, he had never been interested in such things. That he had no real interest in dark arts was, Niall believed, one of the reasons Osram finally left him to teaching instead of keeping him in his circle—a fact Niall now had much reason to be thankful for.
The hardest part of teaching Ash would be explaining to the lad about Niall's binding, why it was there, and the reason he would not break it for more than a tiny spurt of magic. It was, quite frankly, embarrassing, and not a subject he liked to talk about, but the boy had to know if Niall was to teach him not only the use and control of his magic, but the ethics as well—a lesson Niall had learned the hard way, at a cost that even now galled him. That the boy would keep his secret Niall did not doubt - orphans learned early how to keep their mouth shut when necessary.
Ash stirred, mumbling in his sleep and Niall went to check on the lad. Looking at the sleeping boy, he was surprised at the warmth he felt. Only in the privacy of his thoughts would Niall admit the truth—that he was already attached to Ash. The immediate kinship he had felt was not without precedent, as it had happened with his students before. But something had changed. Niall had changed. The inner core of him, so carefully protected and hidden away, had been breached and Ash had snuck in and taken a piece of his heart. And Niall knew who was to blame, because she had taken another piece for herself.
He carried that somewhat disturbing yet oddly sweet thought to bed with him and he fell asleep with a tiny smile on his face.