Chapter 1

In the months, following Roblar's wooing, winning, and finally wedding his lady, but before their wedding I settled into the way of life in the castle. My quarters were sort of an afterthought built in a niche, sort of an attic, above the Great Hall in the Keep of the Castle, on the south side, but well under the roof.

This meant I lived in the one of the most comfortable places in the castle; only the ducal apartments over the back end of the great hall on the next lower level were nicer and much larger, albeit not as warm.

The kitchens were on the north side of the hall, the guards' barracks were on the two levels west of the kitchens and north of the ducal apartments. The servants were scattered all around the castle, pretty much as it occurred to the builder to stick them in.

My apartments were nearly as long as the great hall, although not as wide, with a reception area near the entrance, then three small rooms, or large closets, then my library on the north side toward the hall, and on the south side, against the castle's curtain wall, a large laboratory. At the west end of the apartment, were my sleeping quarters, a large suite, with a bedroom, an office, a bathing room, and three medium-sized rooms for housing sick people, or other uses, as I might see fit, and a dining room, or something.

It was obvious that Symellon, the duke's father's mage lived very well, and he had probably earned it according to what I had heard of the old duke's evil reputation for erratic and uncertain Behaviour. As I was to discover the old mage was the castle's chief architect.

In the centre of the apartments, my laboratory lay on the south, the wall-side, and my library lay on the north, or hall-side. Unfortunately, the library contained about 40 or 50 volumes that only barely answered to the description of books. They were moth-eaten and tettered, and nearly as old as the hills behind the castle. They were obviously Symellon's school textbooks they were so sadly out of date, aged and worthless.

At the east end of the apartments were three medium size rooms, and a larger area next to the exit to the ramparts. Obviously, my predecessor believed in the sybaritic life, there was an area at the east end like a small roof top garden outside that door, with a five comfortable chairs to reclining in.

Miracle of miracles, there was hot and cold running water in my apartments; I did not need servants running back and forth carrying buckets of water for my bath. I had read of such comforts, but had never before seen such opulence. I looked forward to exploring my apartment to see how the architect had managed this minor miracle.

In the room just outside my bedroom was an elaborate and expensive orrery (a mechanical model of the solar system, ) capable of incredible accuracy and showing the pos- itions of not only the sun and moon, but many of the principal planets and some major stars.

I spent all of my fifth day at the castle starting and adjusting it. Other notable improvements to the apartment included the fixture of an auditory scrying device in my bedroom. This device enabled a mage who was practiced in divination, as I was, to listen to private conversations throughout the castle. I resolved to spend a few minutes every day here. The castle was warmed by solar heating devices and with the approach of summer, it was growing too hot in the castle, using my arts (a fancy way of seeming to know more than anyone else) I managed to get the heat in the castle adjusted so that it now in fact, comfortably cool. Also, of interest to a diviner, I found a large scrying glass in my office; it was a huge bowl nearly 10 spans across. It was empty at the time I took up residence but I quickly filled it up; if Sym- ellon, my predecessor had need of it, I would probably need it as well.

Symellon had amazing engineering abilities. For example, a huge well sat under the castle, hidden from most eyes, it could easily meet the needs of 20 to 30 times as many people as presently lived in the castle. I knew that we would not run out of water for at least a year, although I suspected that the river that lay outside the castle replenished the well on its way to the lake. We would probably never run out of water.

Symellon's journals, when I finally found them, secreted-away in a secret, and hidden table drawer in the offce. It appeared that Symellon had the manerisms of some of the more pedantic teachers at the acadamy. In my experience, these teachers invariably had less to teach, and thus used more words than their fellows with more to impart; the finest example I cn speak of, in my own experience is that of one of my instructors who was laconic to the core, however he was a genius in imparting his knowledge of the physical inprospection.

[ "Here we must consider the unlikely possibilitie that the driad and her surroundings may be found..." ][in a large and awkward script]

When I finally found my predecessor's journals, I spent the first few weeks studying them to gain a better idea of how to perform my duties, indeed, to learn what my duties were. Judicious and cautious inquiry with the duke, and other long-time den- izens of the castle, had left me with impression that I wasn't the only one without a clue of what I was to do. Unfortunately, his journals gave little information except how live to live a comfortable and sybaritic life. Symellon, like this ducal master, liked to be waited on hand and foot by pretty girls; admittedly, a noble ambition, but what was I expected to do for Duke Roblar?

The many servants of the castle were tucked here and there, like an afterthought wherever space might be found for them. Every where there was room for a couple of cots and a wardrobe, you would find a major-domo, or two or three valets or footmen, or three or four maids or a half dozen pages or scullery maids. Their place and position in the castle hier- archy of servants dictated the number of people they had to share their room with and the degree of comfort to which they might aspire.

Not that much beyond sleeping took place in those little cubbies, the castle's butler and the housekeeper and the cook kept their respective staffs busy and running all day long.

The soldiers occupied yet another niche in the castle's life. Besides their two barracks just inside the curtain wall on the east and west side of the castle, and the guard house, in the outer curtain wall, a few officers had quarters with their wives in the keep proper. A few visitors stayed in the great hall, unless they were of sufficient rank to demand more luxurious quarters elsewhere. There were seven guest suites and eighteen single rooms in the castle for the lofty who wished to use them. All-in-all, I had the most luxurious living quarters in the castle, outside the duke's. Curiously, there was no sign of anyone else moving into the mage's apartments for the four months between Synellon's tenancy and my arrival to take up my duties.

One morning, before the duke rode off to visit his duchess-to-be he visited me to compel me to provide moral support and encourage him in his campaign to find a wife. I provided the few necessary words to brace his backbone, and announced, when he invited me to ride over to see the fortunate lady, I felt that my duties required me to ride my horse through the forest to gather herbs to take care of his people in the months ahead. Duke Roblar evinced no surprise at this announcement, indeed he seemed to approve of my attention to my duties, so obviously I had struck on one of my duties, or at least, both the duke and I agreed on the necessity.

The duke bsde me a good day, and left for the chase. I followed a few minutes later, and had a groom saddle the horse that the duke had ordered set aside for me, that is "my horse". My horse and I left through the north gate, and ambled toward the forest lying to the north of the castle. I spent a pleasant day, wandering through the woods; I saw lots of wild-life, many plants of medicinal nature, and many more, of less obvious quality for the care of the denizens of the area. I gathered some of each sort-the plants to make medicine, and the plants to make other things; I briefly considered making a perfume for my mother, perhaps I would find a merchant traveling that way who would carry it for me.

My attention was diverted suddenly when I noticed a bee buzzing around the head of a clover blossom. While I had seen a number of bees flitting around various blossoms as I rode through the forest, the type of bee struck me. It was very large; and I recognized the type. It was a new breed to this part of the world, that had been imported to our country by one of my fellows at school, that was known for being very aggressive, albeit very productive.

I watched carefully; as it buzzed a bit; then landed on the blossom. By and by, it rose into the air and took off toward its nest. Watching it, you could see the origin of the phrase bee-line. Observing carefully, since I knew that it would be out of sight shortly, I watched it disappear in the trees. Then I followed, walking in that direcion until I reached the last point that I had seen it.

Then I waited until I saw more bees approaching from that direction. There were a large number of them; in fact, there was nearly a chain of bees. As the bees went on to harvest the nectar from the patch of clover, I went on to find the nest. When I found the nest, I watched for a few minutes and discovered that an barely mature queen was emerging from the hive.

I grinned. I looked around quickly and found a suitable stick. By speaking to the lady, I was able to persuade her to start her swarm on that branch. I mounted my borse and rode away to speak to the ducal beekeeper.

When I found him he was not overly enthusiastic about following my orders, or as I put it, my suggestions. He agreed to have an old hive cleaned and ready for me, or rather the hive. I returned to the hive and found the bees gathered on the branch with their soon-to-be queen. I picked up the branch, speaking soothingly and very politely to the bees as I climbed back onto my horse.

I returned to the bee keeper, and speaking to the bees, suggested that they would find their new accomodations very comfortable. The Beekeeper stared at me with a wild look on his face. With the keeper, I waited while the swarm disappeared into the hive, when they I explained that this hive would need a larger excluder, in fact, he should not do anything since the queen would not leave.

I explained to the keeper that it was not a good idea to try to curb these bees; they wouldn't like it. He agreed to do it my way, although he was shaking his head.

Then I returned to the castle since the day had not waited for me to complete my tasks. The sun never waits either, does it?

Now, I must resort to deduction, and recording the thoughts of other's as they reported them to me; sometimes those reports came to me several years after the events reported to you here. There was in the castle a young girl, called Marisym, who was in service, as they say, at the castle. This girl's mother had named her Marisym afer a favourite herbas the older woman who had been a hedge-witch at a nearby village had often used. The witch had pleaded for a place for her daughter when she anticipated her own death who had treated the ailments of the local populace; and earned the affections of her neighbours named her daughter after a favourite herb. The girl will figure heavily in my story later.

And, there was at the castle a great burly man-at-arms known as Llusftwigg. Llustwigg was a huge rough, and homely, one might fairly say-an ugly man, who behaved in keeping with his appearance, he had picked a vocation in keeping with this size and demeanor. Llustwigg had been one of the escorts taken by the duke on his journey to swear fealty to the king following his father's death, as required by tradition and law.

Conversation not long after the events described here, indicated his sergeant would not have taken him on the journey, but he felt it desirable to be able to keep an eye on the man; or maybe, he hoped that Llustwigg would get into enough trouble in the big city that it would be acceptable to leave him there.

Sure enough, Llustwigg did get into trouble; but it was not serious enough; the duke paid the fine levied by the local magistrate for unruly conduct in a tavern, and he joined the escort for the homeward bound trip. He made no impression on me at that time; of course, I paid very little attention to my companions on that trip. My tightly-strung nerves compelled me to think of other things.

Llustwigg had cast his eye around, and decided that as a great man-at-arms with his arduous task of protecting the duke and his castle that he was entitled to comfort from the lackeys who merely worked in the castle, particularly of a carnal nature. His eye finally lit upon Marisym.

The difficulty, Marisym, though not a virgin, decided that she wanted nothing to do with Llustwigg. He frightened her. Llustwigg was a very young man, as you might determine from my description, and he frightened a lot of people; nearly everyone who met him. Consequently, her tales of rough-love-making and her descriptions of near-rape drew little attention, the bruises on her body she was silent about as she embodied the modesty that becomes a maid. Her reticence about showing-off the bruises on her bosom, I feel were quite understandable. After all, she was hardly of a social level to command attention from the duke, and she was frightened of all the soldiers, so she didn't speak to anyone who could, and would, have done something about the situation. Had the duke known of the situation, he might have behaved, quite likely would have behaved in a fashion similar to his father, the old duke had many times.

Marisym had been orphaned, and hired as a maid in the castle the previous summer by Duke Willange who while feared by his people, was also respected by them. He also knew what was happening within his castle and his duchy. If Willange had lived, Llustwigg would have speedily found himself dancing at the end of a rope. Liberties taken to the persons of young maids were taken by Willange, and no one else! If anyone else forgot that, they were very speedily and forcibly reminded of Willange's determination.

Later, I decided that helping Roblar find out about things like this was one of my duties. Of course, Roblar was too straight-laced to do the liberty sort-of-thing. Or maybe, he was too busy finding a bride.

Marisym had the day before met with Llustwigg, and he gave her an unforgettable message signaling his desire for a hasty conclusion to his courting ritual. In the course of the debate Llustwigg while tenderly presenting irresistible and sentimental sweet-nothings in her ear, had nearly twisted Marisym's left breast from her body. The information she received indicated Llustwigg's impatience, he apparently needed to complete his conquest so that he could pursue other interests, such as Marissa, or maybe, Gloria.

At about the time I was riding through the north gate, Marisym was holding her smock open and exhibiting her, now-black-breast to Theresa, another chamber maid. Theresa's expression of sympathy was of little practical use to Marisym. Theresa did not need the graphic illustration of Marisym's mutilated body; she had already experienced Llustwigg's form of love-making.

Wincing, Marisym gently placed her breast inside her smock and with a sigh, left the room and went out big front door just in time to meet Corkel, the butler, as he stalked back into the hall. Corkel had just had an unsatisfactory interview with the duke who had wanted to know why his mage's quarters were dusty. Unacceptably filthy, in the duke's view in fact; it is gratifying thinking back on the incident.

Now Marisym was very proud of her mother's avocation of hedge-witch, and was not loath to make aware every one who didn't already know her family and repeat the information to anyone who did know. She could even read a little, and although I never saw her act in a high-stepping fashion with her fellow servants, they perhaps could at least be forgiven for feeling Marisym made a bit too much of herself.

Duke Roblar had just decided that the mage needed somebody to take care of him when Corkel saw Marisym. The duke had just discussed that very point with him, apparently in great detail. In almost a snarl, "Marisym, I'd like a word with you!"

Marisym uneasily stood with her eyes downcast. Corkel explained her new promotion to her. "Oh, Sir. I don't know how to serve a mage."

Corkel, shortly, "Well, of course not. No one knows. But, you know more than anyone else in the castle. The Duke wants Marthullis to be well taken care of; or he'll skin me alive. He may not be much like his father, but I'm not taking any chances, I think my skin looks very nice where it is."

(I should note that the old duke, Willange, was prone to punish those who deserved it in a thoroughly unpleasant manner. He had been known to have his executioners practice flensing on servants who need to be

reminded of their place so they could be ready for more illustrious victims.)

Corkel continued, "And, I'll see that you get your share of any shit that flies around. You are now the servant taking care of that damn mage. Now, the mage's quarters are dirty, he's gone for the day, and he will return to a bright cheerful snf clean room. Do a good job. If you don't, you may as well get out of the castle, today!"

Corkel turned away, and marched into the keep. Marisym sobbed a little, and turned to enter the castle and go up the stairs to the mage's rooms.

When I returned in the late afternoon, with a big bag of herbs and other savoury natural products of the forest, I stopped at the stable to give my horse into the care of the hostlers, pass the bag to a nearby page and told him to get it up to my rooms. I grinned as the lad, carrying a bag more than twice as big as he was, trudged off to the castle. I trotted briskly to the tavern which operated inside the castle walls, only a few steps from the stables. I had decided that a beer might ease my sore back. While I was medicating my back, the duke returned and headed for his apartments; miracle of miracles, he appeared in a very good mood; whistling cheerfully.

The mystery of the duke's good cheer could wait until morning. I needed a hot bath, and my bed. Off I went. When I got to my apartment twilight was ending and it was getting very gloomy. There was a candle lighting my dining room, what was going on?

The poor light shed by the candle caused me to stumble on a stool placed right in the centre of the hallway. The clatter of the stool striking the floor caused a figure busily scrubbing the walls of the dining room to start wildly. A loud gasp signaled the intruder's awareness of my presence. A wild look, with large eyes and round mouth, "Oh, Sir!"

"What are you doing?" mildly, too tired to complain.

"My Lord... Mage... Sir... I have been commanded to take care of you." A little breathlessly, she was steadily backing away from me, nearly to my bedroom door.

"Wha'... Who?" I said somewhat confused.

"Sir... Corkel... " my uncomprehending look compelled amplification. "You know, Sir, the butler. Corkel told me I was to look after you."

A cheeky grin, "I need looking after, do I?"

"Oh, Sir, I don't... he... to'... the duke command... Oh, Sir!" some tears leaking down her cheeks now.

She took a deep breath, then slowly, and very determinedly, "My Lord, Mage. I have been told to come here, to look after you, to see to your cleaning, your laundry, your meals, and anything else you need. Her face turned a bright red. Corkel told me that it's my last chance, I must do this task right." She paused, "I have been cleaning here all day. But, the place is so dirty... and so big... sob; Well, its an awful lot to... " Tears and great wracking sobs coming from this little girl who looked like nothing so much as a pile of rags.

"All right, you can clean the whole place for all I care. But does that mean I can't live here while you're working here?"

"Oh. No, Sir... My Lord, Mage... I'll work when you are... somewhere else... I mean... where you are not. I mean... "an exasperated sigh punctuated the statement. "My Lord Mage. You. Will. Not. Be. Inconvenienced." It was the first time I had ever heard periods in someone's speech.

"Very good. Will you show me what you have done?"

"Of course, my Lord Mage." She tried to show me everything, but remarked that she would not enter the laboratory or the library without me; and would have succeeded in confusing me further, but I was starting to understand her, well, at least to understand her odd, syncopated speech.

I was quite surprised at how much she had accomplished, working alone - I asked - she had managed to scrub the bedroom, the bathroom and the office walls. The places on the walls that had been scrubbed bare of whitewash made the place as depressing as its previous unclean state.

"Well, I think you are doing an excellent job and you had better carry on. And... What is your name?"

"Marisym." She told me. She told me I would never regret keeping her on. She told me that she was very grateful. She was grateful to the Duke for the opportunity. She was grateful to Corkel for the opportunity. Corkel? Again. Reminder to self: who the devil is Corkel? And she wanted to know if my feet needed to be rubbed. The last remark reminded me of my intentions when I arrived here. "Well, Marisym, you can continue cleaning this place tomorrow. Now, I would like a bath, then I want to get some supper. Now, you have put in a very hard and very fruitful day's work. So, your labours must stop until morning. Go get your supper"

This statement led to an inquiry about the assistance I would need in my bath. I was convinced that the question was not coquetry, but a degree of shyness and desperation to please almost painful in its intensity. Further statements regarding her desire to please me, to please the duke, to please the butler Corkel, to please anyone else she could think of, even those she not yet met.

I was gratified that she wished to please both the duke and me, but a trifle confused about Corkel. I still was not certain, who in the devil was Corkel? And why would I care about him being pleased? Marisym's explanations were somewhat lacking in coherence; so I thought it best to approach the matter indirectly.

"I don't need your help with my bath. However, would you go downstairs to the kitchen and have a page bring up a tray of supper. One of the larger pages, or even two pages, they will need a fair amount of strength, maybe they will need two trays, I swear, I could eat a horse." That hyperbole was to prove useful later that evening in feeding a certain servant girl who had worked through dinner and supper. "And tell Corkel that I wish to speak to him. I think you need some help cleaning this place." My memory had at last stirred itself, I remembered that mother had always had me, and the men servants whitewash the walls of the house every spring, after she and my sisters, and the women servants had scrubbed the walls down. If it was good enough for mother, it would be good enough for Corkel; whoever the devil Corkel was.

I was still splashing in my bath, when I was interrupted by a knock at the door. "Come in."

A short, fat, balding self-important man bustled into my bathroom. "My Lord sent for me? It is not appropriate for me to answer the summons of a maid," I had seen him around the castle but did not know his name.

Yes, I had sent for him; and I didn't care for that last statement of his. If I sent for him, it was up to me, not him, to select the messenger. I didn't care for his attitude, I didn't care for his smug self-satisfied look, I didn't care for his palpable air of long suffering, I thought he was a typical better-than-anyone-else person; so I glowered at him. I stood in my bath and wrapped a towel around my body.

"You are Corkel?" at his nod, I continued. "Did you not receive lessons on appropriate manners, Corkel?"

This was a day for firsts. Today had been the first time I had heard someone speak in periods, and now was the first time I saw someone's face turn truly white.

"My Lord, Mage, forgive me, my day has been over-full; everything has conspired to go wrong. At breakfast time, the head cook levied on me for a 15 maids and boys to gather berries in the garden. Then Sir Tandoull decided that he needed a crew of men to cut pells for his soldiers' practice. Then Roblar decided that your quarters needed to be clean, later his valet instructed me on unpacking some chests that he bought at Harford." Poor Corkel heaved a dramatic sigh to indicate in how many ways he thought he had been put upon.

While I could sympathize with the fact that he would feel that there was 35 hours of tasks to do every day and only 24 hours to do the tasks-after all, I had been a student at Mages College. However, I had noted that his people in the castle had never hurried in their tasks, and I had never seen one move faster than a crawl, except little Marisym just a few minutes ago. Then as I reviewed his last complaint, I focused on a name and thundered, "Duke Roblar!"

"I beg your pardon, My Lord Mage?"

"Your Lord,... and my master is DUKE ROBLAR. I suggest you remember that, Duke Roblar was speaking to me just the other day, remarking upon his executioners needing practice." I gave him a significant look, I was sure that Corkel would remember Willange.

The man turned a shade of white suitable for a painting of a snowscape. Obviously, he remembered Willange. This might be fun.

"Well, you have done something right, for once. Sending Marisym to my apartments was inspired, she is perfect, and she seems to know what she can do, and what is very dangerous to tinker with."

Corkel preened, "Well, it was an obvious thing to do for someone who has my experience. Her mother was the local hedge-witch, and she is practiced with herbs and things."

His salutation, it was merely to be understood, deserved a frown. However, he gave me some information without charge. I frowned to indicate I had heard the display of lese majeste in his remark. "Yes, well, you will assign her permanently to me; I will need some assistance with my herbs and things. She can be my valet."

A valet was a servant of some importance, probably it was usurped importance since the valet had daily contact with his master, and could oh-so casually mention difficulties suffered by him in carrying out his master's instructions, road-blocks placed in his way by such puffed-up toads as a butler. I did not expect him to give up without a whimper. I wasn't disappointed.

"But, Sir, she's a woman!"

"By George, I believe she is! I guess we'll have to call her a valette."

"It's unheard of to give such responsibility to a woman. She won't be able to handle the tasks."

Again I noted his salutations were lacking in respect, I resolved to speak to Jeramalt, the steward of the castle. I realized now that Corkel worked for him and was titularly in charge of all the servants in the castle. Corkel the butler was responsible for the cleaning and general housekeeping tasks, as well as providing unskilled labour to others in the castle.

"I will undertake to instruct Marisym is her duties, I'm sure she will do a fine job. She has already done a fine job, without instruction that I could see. Now, tomorrow, I will want you to send a crew of men to whitewash the walls, three or four should do, and a crew of women to scrub the reception area and I will need Marisym to assist me. It's too dangerous to have novices scrubbing and painting in the laboratory and the library. So, we will have to do that later."

The look of outrage on his face was worth selling tickets. He was obviously hopping mad, but dare not say anything to me.

"As you wish, sir" and he nodded his head and left, muttering about being needed in the kitchen.

I mistrusted the expression on his face, so I felt I should head off any flanking moves. I threw on a robe and made the short journey to Jeramalt's quarters. A few minutes consulting with the steward had settled the whole thing, although I learned that when Symellon had had a woman for the same position, many years before, he had called her an apprentice although Jeramalt was not completely sure. Jeramalt had wanted a quid pro quo for rearranging his workers, by mentioning that he could use some distilled spirits to soothe his troubled spirits. I mentioned that I intended to fire up Symellon's still quite soon and would see to his needs. So Jeramalt offered any help I might need.

As I bid Jeramalt a good night he mentioned that he would speak to Corkel about his manners. "Don't want old duke Willange's methods back."

I got back to my quarters about the same time as Marisym and two pages bearing a magnificent meal. The older boy with her nervously told me that there were a number of duties that required their efforts, and he politely begged my pardon for their haste.

At this betrayal, Marisym took a deep breath, "My Lord Mage, please be seated and I will serve you."