Firebrand

The youth stared at him. Her hair was short with a sensible cut, she wore good boots with soft tread, and while her clothes were worn, none of it seemed ragged. “You’re not as clever as you think. I always leave a needle in the door opening. Knew you were in here when I saw it on the ground.”

A faint scar ran across one cheek, and Martel wondered how she had acquired it. “Oh, I didn’t mean to surprise you. I just needed a place out of sight to wait for you. I figured discretion was to our mutual benefit.”

“Damn right. Weasel will throw a fit if he sees you here.” She closed the door behind her. “He’s already angry at all the talk going on about you and your expedition. He thinks you’re fishing in his pond, luring people out of their silver without paying him a cut.”

A thief would always suspect everyone else of being a thief. If Martel had known that removing Kerra would leave room for Weasel to take over, he might have reconsidered. “He truly never changes. Well, one more reason to avoid him. I have no interest in listening to his nonsense.”

“Why are you here? I’ve not seen you since you went off to war. That’s some years ago, isn’t it.” Check latest chapters at novęlfire.net

“Yes.” Martel coughed. “I’m sorry it took so long for me to come see you.”

She shrugged. “No copper from my purse.”

“I meant to come sooner. When Eleanor – you remember her? – and I returned from our travels the first time, I knew it would mean a confrontation with Weasel, and I thought it best not to upset matters.”

“As I said, don’t care.” She removed a small bag from inside her tunic and placed it under her bed. “That all? I got things to do.”

“How is your magic progressing?” “That’s none of your business, is it.”

“As I recall, I played a part in helping you grow your abilities.”

“Is that why you’re here? To complain about how I use them? Well, sir, captain, master, whatever title you go by these days, I don’t owe you gratitude for life because you showed me a few tricks.” Although she did her best to control her voice, anger still shone through.

Still in his seat in the corner of the room, the bed between them, Martel regarded Sparrow. “No, you don’t. But I imagine you’re not using them nearly to your full potential. Earth is a truly powerful element.”

“Yeah, it lets me open any lock I want by looking at it. Great. Now I’d kindly thank you to leave.” She crossed her arms.

“What you’ve heard… about our expedition. It’s true. Eleanor and I are building a new city that’ll be home to all. And nobody will be left to fend for themselves.”

“I got a home right here, and I can fend for myself just fine. I’m the best earner in the whole Drum.” Sparrow smiled with self-satisfaction. “Weasel’s one of the Nine, the youngest there is. Everyone respects him. And I’m his right hand. Anything needs done outside the copper lanes, I’m the only one he trusts.”

“The one he uses, you mean. For your magical talent.”

“Isn’t that the only reason you’re here?” she suddenly spat. “Otherwise, you’d not give two rotten apples for me.”

“That’s not true. I approached you because I know you best. But the expedition is open to all. Mouse, Badger, Squirrel… they are all welcome,” Martel promised.

“Spare me. You left, Martel. You left us. Weasel never did.”

“I had little choice,” the battlemage protested. “You know what they would have done if I had refused to go to war? Enslaved my family and hunted me down!”

“Yeah, and after?” Her voice grew angrier. “We all heard the news. Sol’s Eye, we heard the fighting! The captain prefect of the east, conqueror of the city. The great imperator, father of the Senate.”

“I came to visit that time,” Martel argued, his own temper rising. “I went to see you all.”

“Yeah, to use us to get rid of Kerra,” Sparrow retorted. “And when it was done? When you had no need of us? You left. Couldn’t wait to get out of Morcaster and forget about us.”

Martel bit his own tongue, keeping silent. She was right, but how to explain his reasons? Martel had been shattered by the war, as evidenced by his breakdown going through the Undercroft. He needed to go home and see his family, ensure they were safe. He needed time and distance to heal. He had been in no position to take care of a child, let alone a whole band. “I had to leave.” Deep down, Martel knew that was the coward’s reply; if he truly wanted to, he could have found a way to bring Sparrow with him back then. But he wanted to be free of all responsibility for the first time since he had arrived in Morcaster as a sixteen year old, himself barely more than a child.

“Great. That makes it alright, then.”

She had regained control of her voice, but Martel sensed the anger from her, thanks to his magic. She resented him. And he could not blame her. “Alright. I’ll leave. But you should know one thing.”

“If it’ll make you sod off, then tell me and get going.” She tapped one foot against the floor.

“You have so much more potential than what Weasel will allow you to reach. Or yourself, I suspect.” Martel got up, grabbed his staff leaning against the wall, and walked over to the door. “I hope one day you will give yourself permission to be all that you can be. A mage with the strength to do anything.”

She gave no reply, and if his words made her scowl lessen, he could hardly tell. Knowing that his time and her patience was at an end, Martel left her room and The Copper Drum.

Back at The Firebrand, Martel informed Eleanor of his efforts. “You knew it was unlikely she would listen,” Eleanor told him with sympathy in her voice, lying on their bed.

“I did. I guess I had a naïve notion that the prospect of learning proper magic would sway her.”

“Let us hope that Henry has more luck. Without any earthmages, our endeavours will be painfully slow. It will also make it difficult to attract more settlers if we cannot properly house those we already have.”

“True enough. What of the merchants?”

“We have a meeting with the guild of metal traders.”

“General recruitment?”

“So far, not a lot of attention,” Eleanor admitted. “I cannot say what holds them back, but we have only a few names added to our lists. Mostly old veterans. I suppose they trust us more than the rest.”

“We’ll give it time. Let the word spread.”

“Sol willing, it will do so fast.”