Lys

Chapter One.


A bumblebee buzzed against Edmund’s ear startling him awake. He opened his eyes and blinked up at the sky. It was getting late.

“Damn.”

He scrambled to his feet. Around him gorse seeds cracked under the hot sun.

“Thunder where are you?”

Dratted horse.

Shading his eyes he peered down the hill. Far in the distance the ocean stretched, meeting the unblemished sky on the horizon. The horse was grazing not too far away, sighing with relief he hurried towards it. The animal looked up and snorted a greeting.

“You had me worried there for a minute,” Edmund murmured, taking hold of the reins. “We’re late.”

They galloped up the hill, across the open expanse of heath, and into oak woods at the top. It was pleasantly cool beneath the broad branches. Sunlight dappled through the leaves making patterns of light on the bracken and brambles. Ducking a branch that appeared at head height Edmund encouraged the horse to go faster. His father was going to be furious.

He glanced up at the position of the sun in the sky and decided to take the more direct way to the house, along barely perceptible trails hidden by exuberant summer undergrowth. He had memorised secret the routes as a child when he’d spent countless days roaming the woodland pretending to be everything from an outlaw to a hero.

He was just starting to feeling relieved that they were almost home when a turn in the trail revealed a huge fallen oak blocking the way. He stared in dismay at the shattered trunk and mess of crushed branches. Tangles of bramble and undergrowth made it impossible to go around the tree with the horse. He sighed, batting at a swarm of curious midges. If he turned back to meet the main pathway he’d be noticeably late.

“Damn,” he muttered, biting his lower lip. Now what?

The sun was getting low, the hot day mellowing into what promised to be balmy midsummer evening. If Thunder could jump the tree it would solve the problem. He studied the path the other side of the fallen tree, it seemed reasonably clear. It would be a high jump, but he reckoned Thunder was capable.

Edmund patted the horse’s neck trying to ignore the churning of his stomach. He wasn’t keen on jumping on horseback. He gritted his teeth; this was no time to be a wimp. He turned the animal and went back along the trail far enough to give it a good run up.

“Let’s do it,” he murmured, and urged Thunder into a run.

The horse took the jump well but the next thing Edmund was aware of was slamming into the earth. A sharp pain shot up his arm and he had to roll to escape being crushed by the horse as it fell beside him, its hooves barely missing him. He lay dazed for a moment but the squeal of pain that Thunder made frightened him out of it.

He scrambled to his feet, closing his eyes at the wave of dizziness that made him stumble and grabbed the reins. The horse shied and pulled at the reins, Edmund paled as a lance of pain that went through his shoulder.

“Shhh,” he whispered. He looked down and felt sick. Thunder’s left leg was broken.

Tears blurred his vision and he blinked them away. He shouldn’t have gone out today, not when he knew they were going to have his birthday celebration this evening. The horse was shaking and when he stroked Thunder’s nose he saw his hand was shaking just as much.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered and spotted the cause of the accident. Close by was a shallow hole, opened up by the shifting roots when the tree had fallen. It had been obscured by debris and he guessed Thunder’s foot had landed in it.

The horse squealed again, eyes rolling. Edmund had no doubt that his father would order the animal to be killed. Unless…

Edmund glanced around surreptitiously. Nobody need know. The woods were silent but for the drone of insects and chirps of birds high in the branches. He wouldn’t get caught and it was only going to be this once. Shushing the horse he knelt beside the injured leg and took it gently in his hands. If his father found out what he was doing he’d be in even more trouble than just taking the horse home injured. If anyone told the council he’d die.

Pushing away any misgivings he concentrated on the wound and gently let out some strands of magic. He guided them, knitting together bone and muscle. The horse snorted.

It didn’t take long and he withdrew the strands as soon as the wound would finish healing without help. He studied the leg. It was still bruised and sore but Thunder was able to put his weight on it once more. Edmund decided not to risk riding the shaken horse any further and stood up. He felt bruised all over and had a slight headache.

There was a crackle in the undergrowth and Edmund jumped. If anyone had seen what he’d just done…He knew there were plenty of men capable of hiding amongst the trees undetected. He swallowed, it was done now and how could he have let Thunder die because of his stupidity?

“Let’s go home,” he said to the horse. The animal still looked frightened but walked with him. “And all this because of the stupid party,” he murmured, patting the long muzzle.

***

There were already several carriages pulled up in the driveway when they emerged from the woodland. Edmund groaned. His father was going to be more than furious.

He went the back way, down the path the servants used as he hurried to the stables hoping that none of the guests would see him. He was under no illusions of how dirty he was. The boy cleaning out the stables looked up in surprise as Edmund barged in.

He hurried over and took the reins from Edmund. “I’ll take care of Thunder for you, sir,” he said, scanning Edmund’s appearance.

“Thank you,” Edmund said, feeling relieved. He’d usually have taken care of the horse personally but he didn’t have time. “Could you let the stable master know that Thunder’s left foreleg is hurt and ask him to take a look.”

“Yes sir.”

Edmund hesitated for a moment but knew he’d have to trust the boy. The staff were competent enough, even the youngest, else his father wouldn’t keep them on. He smiled at the boy and then hurried towards the servant’s entrance to the house.

He crept through the door into a narrow corridor, relieved that at least the guests wouldn’t notice him arrive looking such a mess. That might earn back at least a little of his fathers regard.

The busy servants glanced at him as they worked without surprise. It wasn’t the first time he’d used the back way. The housekeeper rolled her eyes as he passed her but made no comment as he bounded up the small staircase that lead to his floor on the wing. Finally he burst into his rooms and slammed the door shut gasping for breath.

“Where have you been?”

Edmund sighed and looked over at the man stood with his arms folded and a look of utter disapproval in his eyes.

“I didn’t mean to be back this late.”

“I should hope not!” his servant growled. “I’ve made excuses for you but your father wants you ready immediately. I have a bath ready for you, it’s your own fault if it’s cold.”

“Thank you, William,” Edmund said, ignoring the waspish tone. A tongue lashing from William was preferable to one from his father.

He walked through to the next room where a bath stood waiting and peeled off his filthy, sweaty clothes. He stepped in the bath and pulled a face. It was only just warm.

“Do you need any help?”

Edmund glanced back and seeing the caustic look in William’s eyes hastily sat down in the chilly water.

“No, I can manage,” he gasped. “You… go ahead and do whatever else needs doing.”

“Your father will be back any time now. Clean up as quickly as you can.”

Edmund obeyed, scrubbing away the sweat and mud and wincing as he found bruises from his fall. William only spoke so freely when they were alone and Edmund didn’t mind. He’d become a friend as well as a servant over the years.

It was too cold to linger in the bath even if he’d had the time so once clean he got out, huddling up in a warm towel. William poked his head around the door.

“Ahh good, you’re ready,” he said, then frowned, “What happened? How’d you get those bruises?”

“I fell off Thunder,” Edmund shrugged.

Concern immediately entered the servant’s eyes as he studied the growing discolouration on Edmund’s shoulder. “You should have said when you first got in. Here let me take a look.”

“I’m fine.”

William pointed firmly at the bed. “Sit down and let me look.”

Edmund sighed and obeyed so William could poke at the bruises.

“You’re lucky you didn’t break this arm. I’ll get a comfrey poultice ready for when you come to bed. There isn’t time now before the party.”

William looked up, a more serious look in his eyes, “You shouldn’t have gone out alone. You only had to ask and I’d have come with you.”

“I couldn’t drag you away from your chores just to baby--sit me,” Edmund said evenly. “I’m not a child anymore.”

“You behave as badly as one sometimes,” William muttered. “Now lets get you dressed.”

Edmund winced as the tight stylish clothes were pulled on over his bruises. He hated them and wondered for the hundredth time who’d thought it was a good idea to design clothes in a style that meant the wearer couldn’t dress without help.

“There you go,” William said eventually. “I’d never believe that only a little while ago you’d come in looking like a vagabond.”

Ignoring the dry tone Edmund walked to the mirror and studied his image. A young gentleman stared back. He could almost be handsome if not for the fact one side of his face was too red from the sun.

“I can’t go down with my face all red like that!”

William’s lips twitched as he held back a smile. “It isn’t that noticeable, and won’t be in the hall.”

“But...”

“Are you going to explain to your father that you’re missing your twenty first birthday celebrations because you fell asleep in the sun?”

Edmund sighed and pushed back a stray curl of damp hair. He eyed his face critically again for a moment. Perhaps in the lamp light the red would blend into his tan more.

“I suppose I’d better go,” he muttered, and at the same moment there was a sharp tap on the door.

William hurried over and opened it. “Good evening sir,” he said as Lord Richard strode into the room.

“Are you ready?” Lord Richard snapped, looking at Edmund and ignoring the servant.

“Yes father,” Edmund said.

“Good. And tomorrow morning you’ll come and tell me where you went today and then, perhaps, we’ll have a discussion on responsibility.”

Edmund stifled a resentful groan and turned away. He wasn’t a child to be lectured any more.

Lord Richard took a step forward and jabbed a finger into Edmund’s chest. “Don’t you dare look at me like that. You know well enough how essential tonight is. All the important families of the southern counties are here, what will they think if you don’t even have the courtesy to turn up at a decent time?”

Edmund met his father’s eyes. “I don’t really care. You’ve only arranged tonight so you can finally get rid of me. I know how ashamed you are of…” he stopped, suddenly aware of William standing, motionless, by the door.

Lord Richard waited for a moment to make sure Edmund had finished then with an impassive expression masking his thoughts he shrugged.

“If that’s what you think then so be it. Yes, I hope a heiress to catches your eye tonight, you’re of marriageable age, but did you not think that as you’ve reached your age of maturity tonight I may have just wanted to introduce you to your place in society amongst our peers?”

Edmund swallowed and looked down, unable to hold his father’s gaze. Lord Richard turned and added quietly, “I’ll meet you downstairs, Edmund.”

William closed the door behind Lord Richard and turned to look at Edmund.

“He does just want to get me married and away, whatever he says,” Edmund said, but his words no longer held any conviction. William made no comment.

Edmund sighed and walked over to the table beside his bed and picked up a tiny silver ring. It had been his mother’s. He closed his hand around it. How different would things have been if she’d not died giving birth to him? It had felt wrong to celebrate his birthday ever since he’d learnt why he didn’t have a mother like other children. Tonight was no different. Twenty-one years she’d been in her grave and all because of him. The ring was all he had of her, and that was only because she’d insisted he be given it as she bled to death.

“She’d have been proud of you,” William said gently, watching the emotions flitting across his face.

Edmund swallowed, but shrugged nonchalantly and slipped the ring into the pocket of his jacket. “Why would she have been proud? My father isn’t.” He sighed and turned towards the door, “I suppose I should go.”

“Yes sir,” William replied keeping his tone neutral now. There were others in the corridor. “Enjoy your evening,” he added as he opened it.

Edmund nodded and walked out into the corridor and into the path of his brother. He stifled groan. Harry was seven years older and had never bothered to hide his resentment. He blamed Edmund for their mother’s death and even now, after all these years, animosity blazed in his eyes every time they crossed paths - something Edmund made sure didn’t happen very often.

“Good evening little brother,” Harry said. The look in his eyes belied the courteous tone.

Edmund inclined his head in greeting and attempted to pass. Harry casually rested his arm against the wall blocking the way.

“Let me offer you some advice, little brother,” he said softly. “Find yourself a wife tonight. If anything happens to father you’re not my responsibility now you’re a man and I’d hate to see you homeless.”

“This is my home,” Edmund said, his hands clenching into fists. “You have no right to threaten me.”

“I’m the heir of this estate and I don’t think you’d want to live here once father isn’t here to protect you. I know your secret too remember.”

Edmund felt a chill. He took a deep breath to calm his anger, there was no way he could win against Harry, there never had been.

“Can I pass?”

Harry slowly moved his arm out of the way a malicious smirk on his face and Edmund barged past. Tears burned his eyes but he wasn’t going to let them fall. Not because of Harry.

jeang287

B and the B may have made you think of something like this story, but the story certainly stands on its own. I hope you finish it. Can't wait to see what happens to the young guy, how he puts his disgusting brother and father in their places, and how poor Thunder recovers from his injury. This is fascinating -- do go on!
-- jeang287

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Lys

Thank you .

This is a novel I've already finished a first draft for, but I'm now trying to edit it. I'm still not sure this beginning works in context with the rest of the story but it's better than the original first chapters. I'm still working on it . I've added a bit more of the rewrite below.

Lys

The grand hall smelled of fresh polish, flowers, and the more cloying scent of perfume. The huge fireplace blazed with bright flowers, and above the mantle were two crossed swords that had once belonged to some ancestor who’d fought in the Great War. They were so valuable that his father only put them on display on special occasions.

Many guests had already arrived and the hall was getting crowded. The band was playing and servants discreetly moved through the hall, helping guests and offering drinks. Edmund slipped into the hall hoping to remain unobserved for as long as possible.

“Drink sir?”

Typical, Edmund thought as he turned. The servants missed nothing. He took a glass from the tray held by a dour faced man.

“Thank you,” he murmured and turned to survey the hall as he sipped the wine.

His father was looking serious, talking to several older men. Some couples were dancing, a gaggle of young women were huddled, giggling, on the other side of the hall. Harry entered and joined a group of young men, which ruled out Edmund approaching them for now.

He sighed, and glanced at the group with his father. There were a couple of men he’d not met before so he supposed he should go over and greet them. He struggled through the crowd trying to look purposeful and as he approached he caught a snatch of their conversation.

“…he’s on the run after attacking the town he was supposedly protecting,” Matthew finished with suitable horror in his tone. Edmund knew him reasonably well as his lands bordered theirs. A few of the men shook their heads in disbelief.

“Well, it’s their own fault,” growled Charles, taking a long drag on his cigar and then waving it about to emphasis his point. “The Northern counties should have done the same as us and had all those with magic rounded up and executed.”

Edmund sucked in a sharp breath and slowed. He had no desire to get pulled into this conversation and wondered if he could make a discrete retreat before they noticed him.

A dark haired man Edmund didn’t recognise studied Charles with sharp eyes. “The purge wasn’t totally successful. It just drove those who escaped into hiding and because of it their magic could become unstable with lack of instruction. Perhaps making them even more dangerous.” He paused as he spotted Edmund, “Ahh, so Richard, this is your youngest son.”

Edmund gave up on the idea of retreating and walked over to the group plastering on a smile of greeting.

“Yes,” Richard said as Edmund reached them. “Thomas, may I introduce you to my son Edmund and Edmund this is Thomas, he rules over the lands just south of the White River.”

“I’m pleased to meet you sir,” Edmund said, shaking the man’s hand. The grip was firm and the look in Thomas’s eyes both intelligent and assessing.

“The pleasure is mine,” Thomas said, smiling. “Perhaps you’d like to join us and offer your opinion on the current problems to the north.”

Edmund’s mouth went dry. “I’m afraid I’m not informed enough to comment,” he said, taking a gulp of his drink. He really didn’t want to get involved in this conversation. Thomas appeared unperturbed.

“Well, as you’re probably aware the northern counties still allow magic and most towns have a wizard advisor,” he began, his gaze held steadily on Edmund. Edmund nodded but said nothing. “Anyway, a wizard has betrayed the town he was supposed to be protecting and has been causing the surrounding villages problems. There are calls for the northern counties to purge themselves of their wizards and magic folk as we have done. We were just debating whether that would be a good thing.”

“I see.” Edmund said, risking a quick glance at his father. Richard was watching him with warning in his eyes. He turned his attention back to Thomas and then glanced at the other men in the group, standing lazily with their drinks and cigars.

He cleared his throat. “I see no reason why they should kill them all just because of one miscreant. Why should all be judged because of him?”

Lord Matthew snorted. “No one with magic can be trusted, why do you think we purged our lands of them in the Great War?” He turned his gaze to Thomas. “You’re just worried that it’ll cause trouble in your lands.”

Edmund recalled that the White River was the boundary between the northern and southern counties. The laws were much different in the north. Perhaps Thomas had more sympathy to laws made there since he was so much nearer to that capital than theirs. He studied the stranger speculatively.

Thomas narrowed his eyes at Matthew. “I’m sure you’d be worried about potential unrest along one of your borders too, but that isn’t why I disagree. I disagree with the idea that magic automatically makes a man less trustable than one without. Surely it depends on an individual as to his integrity.”

“That maybe,” Charles rejoined, pointing his cigar towards Thomas like an extension of his finger, “but a man with magic who can’t be trusted is infinitely more dangerous than a man without magic who can’t be trusted.”

There was a pause, and then Edmund said, “I agree with Thomas, I think it was silly to judge all magic by the few who used it wrongly.” Matthew and Charles scowled at him but he ignored them. “Magic can be used to help others can’t it? Haven’t the number of people dying of illness and disease in the south increased because the magical healers have been killed or gone into hiding?”

“Perhaps,” Charles conceded reluctantly, peering at Edmund, “but I’ve found that most of my people are happier now than when those with magic were allowed to take positions of importance. The healers learn more with each generation being trained.” He squared his shoulders, trying to look important, as he added, “And don’t forget, boy, I was born before the Great War.”

Silence followed and Edmund glanced at his father. Small lines of worry had appeared between his brows and his hand was tight around the glass he held. A churning started in Edmund’s stomach and he wondered if he’d said too much. Charles and Matthew held the popular view and Edmund knew these men would have him taken to the council if they guessed about his magic.

As if sensing his unease Thomas turned and appraised Edmund. “My eldest daughter, Alicia, is here tonight. I’d like you to meet her.”

Edmund forgot his worry and suppressed a groan. Another man looking for a husband for his daughter. As if he could read his thoughts, a small smile quirked on the side of Thomas’s mouth.

“Unfortunately I wasn’t blessed with sons so I have to choose husbands for my daughters with care. I think, perhaps, you’re a good candidate, assuming you and Alicia get along of course.”

Matthew snorted. “A good match is a good match. Why would you concern yourself with if they get along?”

Thomas’s expression darkened as he looked at Matthew. “I care for my daughters and their happiness. I will not see them married for the sake of it, to men they do not respect.”

Matthew snorted again and turned away, trying to hide his discomfiture at Thomas’s expression. Edmund decided he liked Thomas.

“I’d be honoured to meet your daughter.”

Thomas stopped glaring at Matthew and smiled at Edmund. “That’s wonderful. I’ll see if I can find out where she’s disappeared to. I won’t be long.” He put his empty glass onto the tray of a passing servant and moved lithely into the crowd of guests.

Matthew scowled at Thomas’s back. “That man gets more incongruous every time I meet him,” he muttered. He looked at the other men in the group and raised his eyebrows. “You know his reputation of course.”

There were nods and mutters. Edmund wondered what kind of reputation Thomas had but didn’t feel brave enough to show his ignorance by asking.

“A word,” his father murmured softly, coming to his side. Surprised at the summons Edmund followed him through the crowd to one of the small alcoves that were built into the walls.

Richard glanced out to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard and then turned to him.
“Take care of your words. It doesn’t do to sympathise too much about those with magic. It’ll draw the wrong sort of attention.”

“Thomas seems free enough with his opinions,” Edmund said, keeping his voice low.

Richard sighed, “People are used to him having controversial ideas. I’m sure he does it on purpose half the time just to keep up his ornery reputation. You on the other hand do have something to hide. Stick to the popular views in debate, whatever your real thoughts.”

Edmund felt a wave of frustration. “I agree with Thomas’s views,” he murmured defiantly.

“That may be, but don’t let the others know it so openly.” He hesitated then added, “I worry about you Edmund.”

Edmund sighed and glanced out at the guests laughing and talking. “If Thomas has such a bad reputation do you approve of me showing an interest in his daughter? Should I pretend not to like her even if I do?

Lord Richard rested his hand on Edmund’s shoulder. “I have no reason to disapprove of Lord Thomas or his family. He can certainly liven things up.” Edmund was surprised to hear old amusement in his father’s voice and a half smile curled on his lips. He focused on Edmund again and said more seriously, “If anything his sympathy towards those with magic is probably a good thing in the circumstances. If you like his daughter I will approve the match.”

Edmund smiled. “Let’s just hope I like her and she likes me then.”

Richard shrugged. “There are others here tonight with daughters I’d approve of if you don’t like her. There’s no hurry. Now, we’d better get back to our guests before they start noticing we’ve vanished.”

As they emerged from the alcove someone immediately waylaid his father so Edmund carried on struggling through the crush of bodies alone.

“Edmund.”

He stopped, wincing as the sharp heel of a woman’s shoe crushed his toe and turned to see Thomas beckoning him. He followed the older man through the throngs of guests to a spot near the open doors to the balcony.

Thomas stopped by the door and studied him speculatively. “I saw you talking to your father. Did he refuse you permission to court a daughter of mine? I’m aware of my reputation.”

“No, on the contrary, he gave me his approval.”

A brief look of surprise entered Thomas’s eyes but then he smiled wryly. “Your father is one man that never fails to be unpredictable. Come, Alicia is waiting.”