Guild Mage: Apprentice

29. The Mountain Song



29. The Mountain Song

"I think maybe I should wait in the carriage," Liv said. She glanced out the window; Mayor Cooper’s manor was three stories tall, built almost entirely of granite, and it had so many windows that she couldn’t even imagine how much he’d spent on glass. "Or I could go back to the castle for midday meal, and meet you here with the carriage."

"Why, because of that spoiled girl?" Master Reimis snorted. "You’re already beyond her, Livara, even if she hasn’t realized it yet. Even if you haven’t. If you run and hide from someone like that, I will be very disappointed in you."

"You say I’m beyond her," Liv protested. "But as far as this town is concerned, that isn’t so. She’s the mayor’s daughter, and I’m just a bastard who grew up in the kitchen."

"How splendid it must be to be blessed with such a wealth of children that you can afford to throw them aside," the Eld muttered. "You will not solve your problems by avoiding them. Best you learn that young, before it gets you killed. You think your aunt would have run away from some ill-mannered brat who thinks too much of herself?"

"I never met my aunt," Liv reminded him.

"More’s the pity," Airis Reimis said. "They called her Livara of the Five Blades. Take a guess."

"Probably not," Liv admitted, staring down at her feet. What was the worst Mirabel could do to her? Spill another goblet of wine on her skirt? Say something mean? She might be older, and her father might have a lot of money, but she wasn’t as dangerous as a stonebat coming through the door. She didn’t have magic. "Fine," Liv said, taking up her staff and clambering out of the carriage. "But she’s going to be horrible, I can tell you that already."

Master Reimis smiled. "You are not responsible for her behavior," he said, offering Liv his arm. "Her father is. You are accompanying me, and to insult you is to insult a guest he very much wants to do business with. Let us go and hear his proposal, and in the meantime enjoy his food."

Mayor Cooper’s staff had apparently been waiting for his guests, because the door was opened immediately by a portly servant who had lost most of his hair. After a brief discussion, an offer to take the aspen-wood staff which was refused, and a frown in Liv’s direction, he walked them past a grand staircase. On the left, they found an open door from which snippets of conversation drifted.

"Master Airis Reimis, of the House Keria," the footman announced, ushering them through the doorway and into a luxurious sitting room. "Accompanied by Apprentice Liv Brodbeck of the mages’ guild."

Mayor Cooper rose from the cushioned bench where he’d been sitting, a glass of wine in his hand. Liv recognized not only Mirabel, but Griselda Mason as well. Both girls were sitting together on a bench before a beautiful harpsichord, the wood of the instrument so finely stained and polished that it seemed to glow with an inner light. There were a half dozen other men as well, none of whom Liv knew by sight, though she imagined that one must have been Griselda’s father.

"Ah, Master Reimis," the mayor said, setting his goblet aside on an end table. With three quick strides, he reached them and extended his hand. "It is a pleasure to welcome you to my house. You know Master Mason, of course, and we have also representatives from the Drovers’ Guild, and the Banker’s Guild. We shall be sitting down for a midday meal in just a few moments, but my daughter, and Master Mason’s daughter Griselda, were just about to entertain us with a song."

"How wonderful," Reimis said. "I’ve just been out inspecting the orchards and the vineyards, with Miss Brodbeck as my guide. But please, don’t let us interrupt. I don’t often have an opportunity to hear a harpsichord played - not many examples have made their way north, as of yet."

"Perhaps Liv would like to accompany us, Father?" Mirabel said. "Master Grenfell always said she had a beautiful singing voice, but we haven’t got to hear her often since we no longer have lessons together."

"Yes, that would be lovely," the mayor said, turning to address Liv directly for the first time. "If it would not put you out, of course."

Liv’s entire body froze, and she was aware of every eye in the room turned toward her. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t breath, she couldn’t even blink. Sing? In front of all these strangers? She’d thought there was nothing Mirabel could do to her that she wasn’t prepared for, but this was terrifying. Breathe, she told herself. In, hold, out. Just like Master Grenfell taught you. Finally, she was able to speak. "I’m not certain there will be a song we both know," she said.

"Nonsense, I know all sorts of things," Mirabel said, a wicked gleam in her eye. "You name something, and I’ll make do." At her side, Griselda giggled.

Liv tried to think of a song that wouldn’t be an embaressment. She couldn’t propose any of the kitchen songs that her mother and Gretta sang while they worked. Nor could she suggest a lullaby, even though that’s mostly what she’d been singing of late, when little Matthew needed a bit of soothing to go to sleep.

"Do you know The Mountain Song?" Liv asked, finally. She’d never heard who’d originally written the tune, but it had been sung around Whitehill for generations.

"Of course," Mirabel said. "Come over here, then, while I play the beginning, and just pick up when you’re ready."

Liv released Master Reimis’ arm, fixed her eyes on the harpsichord, and set off across the sitting room, setting the butt of her staff carefully on the carpet with every other step. If she didn’t turn her head to either side, she didn’t need to look at all of the powerful merchants that filled the chamber. From Mayor Cooper’s first words, it had been clear to her what sort of gathering she was stepping into. These were wealthy, powerful men, and Mirabel was setting Liv up to embarrass herself in front of them. A single note sung off key, and the chuckles would make their way around. The snide comments. And Mirabel would have won.

When she reached the harpsichord, Liv turned her back, so that she didn’t have to face Mirabel or Griselda. Instead, she fixed her eyes on Airis Ka Reimis, who was perhaps the only person friendly to her in the entire room. If she could even count him as that, given he’d likely sell everything he knew about her to the highest bidder.

Mirabel’s fingers struck the keys of the harpsichord; it wasn’t the way Liv was used to beginning, and it threw her for a second. Normally, she simply joined in with Mama and Gretta, and let her voice mix with theirs. She stood up straight, like Master Grenfell always chided her to do, took a deep breath, and sang from her belly:

"When I woke this morn, I felt a tear, couldn’t recall why I’m here;

I’ve come so far, away from home, have I lost the way back?

So I packed my things, set out the door, and turned my face to the north.

The mountains are calling me, now I’m going home…"

She wavered slightly on the first note, but the words came easily after that. Liv’s voice filled the room, though she hadn’t meant to sing so loudly, and by the time she reached the second verse, she closed her eyes so that she could pretend that she was all alone, singing to no one but herself. Or to the baby, perhaps; Lady Julianne’s son wouldn’t ever judge her, he’d just giggle with delight.

She sang like that until the song was over, and held the last note, of the last repetition of the word ’home,’ past the time that the sound of the harpsichord had died away. There was a moment of silence, and then applause.

"That was excellent!" Master Reimis called out, and around the room the men joined in the praise. Liv opened her eyes, and wondered for a moment if she was going to fall over. She leaned on her staff, letting it take her weight, like a deeply rooted tree. The old men crowded around the harpsichord, all talking at once, and it blurred into an overwhelming and confusing noise. She couldn’t keep of track of who was talking to her, to Griselda, or to Mirabel.

It was the overweight footman, in the end, who saved her. "Luncheon is served," he announced from the door, in a deep voice that cut through the chatter.

"Ah, excellent," Mayor Cooper said. "Right this way, gentlemen. Ladies." He took his daughter by the arm to escort her, and Liv was finally able to put a face to Griselda’s father when the man collected her. Master Mason had a sharp face, hard eyes, and hair that had gone entirely to gray. Liv wasn’t certain whether she should simply follow the crowd until Master Reimis offered her his arm again, and she accepted it gratefully.

"That was terrifying," she whispered to him, once the room had nearly emptied out. The Eldish merchant lingered at the back of the crowd, and Liv suspected it was to give her a moment to catch her breath.

"It may have been," Master Reimis said, "but you didn’t run, did you?" They followed the crowd into a chamber that was a good deal smaller than the great hall at Castle Whitehill. For a moment, Liv wasn’t certain what to do with her staff, but one of the footmen showed her where to lean it against the wall, behind her chair.

The entire dining room was paneled in wood, and just large enough to accommodate a high table by itself, without any benches for a crowd of guards. Still, Liv counted four footmen, rather than three, and they began serving as soon as everyone was seated.

"We have oysters, shrimp, and tuna from Coral Bay," Mayor Cooper said, indicating the dishes. "Courtesy of our colleagues from the Merciful Society of Butchers and Drovers, and the Trading Guild."

"And courtesy of the cold storage enchantments supplied by House Syvä," Airis Reimis pointed out. My family, Liv reminded herself. It was still a bizarre thought.

"Indeed, indeed," the mayor agreed. "That has been quite a profitable arrangement for all parties concerned, I dare say, and I hope that it marks only the beginning of a rich cooperation between the Eldish houses and the guilds of Lucania."

"Elden," Reimis broke in. "We say Elden, not Eldish. That is how southerners speak, but it is not what we do in the north."

"Of course, my apologies," Mayor Cooper said, his smile faltering. "Thank you for educating me." Liv tried to remember how many times she’d used the wrong word in front of Master Reimis. He’d never corrected her, but she didn’t want to offend him - and how ignorant he must think Liv, of her own people!

"-which brings us to a new opportunity for cooperation," one of the men was saying. Liv had missed the beginning, and she was further distracted by one of the footmen piling a type of fish she’d never had before onto her plate, seared on the outside and left pink and raw in the middle. "For some years, we of the Most Worshipful Society of Pipes and Waters have been engaged in creating irrigation systems for farmlands across the kingdom, piping water into the fields from nearby streams and rivers. Mayor Cooper tells us that your house, Master Reimis, is capable of creating enchantments that spur crops to incredible growth. If you were to grant us an exclusive license, as House Syvä did the Drovers’ Guild, we believe that enchanted irrigation systems could increase crop yields across Lucania by as much as half again."

"That is an interesting proposal," Airis Remis said. Liv lifted a fork and tried a bite of the seared fish; she was pleasantly surprised to find it had been coated in ground pepper of various sorts before being seared. Across the table, Mirabel and Griselda were whispering together, but she couldn’t make out what they were plotting.

"Of course, the agreement with House Syvä provides a well-tested template for our use," the mayor said, and Liv couldn’t help but frown. That was the agreement they’d tried to use to set the sheriff on her.

"Maybe Master Reimis should change whatever section lets you try to arrest people for having the wrong kind of magic," Liv broke in, "before he agrees to anything." All around the table, the guests fell silent, and she felt her face heat up. Perhaps that would have been better to keep quiet, rather than to say out loud.

"A regrettable misunderstanding," Griselda’s father said. "Thankfully settled now."

"I would have thought that it was in the guilds’ interests to maintain good relations with House Syvä, given that they can withdraw from the agreement at any time with half a year’s notice," Reimis said. "Any agreement that I considered would, of course, need to be negotiated with parties whom I could trust to operate in good faith. I would take their history into account when making my decision."

Now that everyone had looked away from her, Liv poked her fork at one of the open shells on her plate. She didn’t have the slightest idea how to eat whatever was inside without making a fool of herself, and she knew the moment she tried Mirabel would point and laugh. Instead, she finished off her seared fish.

"It is a great deal of difference," Reimis was saying. "Cold storage allowed the guilds to move food from one part of the kingdom to another. In the north, we have far less arable land than you do here. We need magic to increase our crop yields simply to survive. Providing a license for enchantments to be used all across the kingdom would flood the markets with excess food. That would have wide-ranging economic consequences."

Liv looked down at her plate; everything she was willing to attempt eating was gone, and the conversation had moved deep into matters that she had absolutely no frame of reference for.

"I fear that we’re boring the young ladies," Mayor Cooper said, to scattered laughter around the table. He must have noticed Liv’s wandering attention. "Mirabel, why don’t you take Griselda and Miss Brodbeck and show them the garden."

"Of course, Father," Mirabel said, rising from her chair. "Come along, girls. I’ve just been given a cutting from Varuna I want to show you, and I think it’s growing well."

Liv shot a glance over to Master Reimis, but she saw no help there. She was trapped. Without saying a word, she rose from her seat, took her staff from where it had been leaning against the wall, and allowed herself to be led out of the dining room.

The trap wasn’t sprung until they were in the garden, well away from any chance of help or rescue. It was a pretty enough place, if much smaller than what Liv was used to at the castle. Rather than a sprawling warren of paths winding through bushes, trees and flowers, the Coopers had set aside a walled in plot of land no larger than the kitchen at Castle Whitehill. The spring flowers had long since passed, but the air was scented with the smell of fresh herbs.

Mirabel was far less pleasant.

"I can’t believe I have to put up with trash like you in my house," she said, turning on Liv with a snarl as soon as all three girls were in the garden. "It’s bad enough they’ve let a bastard out of the kitchen, but at our table?"

Though she’d known something like this was coming, Liv took a step back in surprise before she got ahold of herself. The raw viciousness of the older girl’s tone stunned her. "I don’t understand what I’ve ever done to you," she said. "You’ve just been nasty and mean since the moment we met, and you never stop. Why won’t you just leave me alone?"

"Don’t you dare talk back to me," Mirabel snapped. "Learn your place, you halfblood bitch." In an instant, the girl’s hand flew, and slapped Liv across the face, turning her head to the side.

She was completely unprepared for it, but she caught herself on her staff, and ran her tongue over her teeth. Liv’s lip was already swelling, and she tasted a bit of blood in her mouth. Master Reimis’ words from the carriage echoed in her mind: "You think your aunt would have run away from some ill-mannered brat who thinks too much of herself?"

"I am so sick of you," Liv growled, surprised by her own anger. "Celet Aiveh Belia." She raised her staff, and the silver sigils flooded with cold light. The ground around Mirabel’s feet burst apart, curved walls of ice rising up from the earth to surround her. It was the same spell that Liv had used on the fox that came to the walls of Whitehill during the eruption; then, it had imprisoned a mana-beast until the town guards could kill it with their crossbows.

Mirabel Cooper was not nearly so formidable as a mana beast.

Before she could do anything but scream, the mayor’s daughter was swallowed up by a bowl of ice, the sides rising around her in a sharp curve until they reached well over the girl’s head, blocking her entirely from view.

To the side, Griselda shrieked and scrambled back in fright, until her back was pressed up against the wall of the garden. "Don’t hurt me," she whimpered.

"It’s funny," Liv said, taking a step toward her, staff raised. "Would you have ever stopped, no matter how much I begged you to? But now that you’re the one afraid, I should stop? How does that make any sense?"

"What in the name of the Trinity is going on here?" Mayor Cooper’s voice boomed across the garden. Liv turned, to see the entirety of the luncheon party storming in through the gate.


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