Wizard and Spy: Book 1 The Ex-Apprentices

By Julia Group

Life hasn’t been good to Lucia and she has returned the favor. Her family is poor, her father beats her and she has a bad habit of using the closest object at hand to smack anyone who disturbs her. When her latest apprenticeship turns out be with a witch, the situation is actually an improvement. Still, life has its ups and downs. A famous seer warns Lott that her apprentice is destined to kill one of magic. Lucia’s friend, Denae, can kill any six normal people, yet, her dream of becoming a spy seems out of reach. A girl who stutters terribly is easy to remember, and spies need to be extremely forgettable. Things can always get worse. Lucia’s father, convinced that the witch is cheating him out of his rightful profits, demands that his daughter return home. Lucia’s behavior improves much slower than her magic. Hopefully her skill will be enough to stop her father from bringing her home, the seer from removing her mouth, Denae from being kicked out of the guard and the magician, Ravidan who is going to want to kill her as soon as he learns she exists.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Julia Group
• Release date: Jul 1, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465930699

Julia Group

Cubicle drone by day, fantasy writer by night - the wizards and centaur type, not the ideas the creepy guy who wants to buy me a margarita has about fantasy.My dream is to become a full-time writer, either that or a wizard, oh, yeah, and ride a pegasus. If that is out, I'll settle for a corner office and my own parking spot.

Book preview

Wizard and Spy

Book 1:The Ex-Apprentices

by

Julia Group

Wizard and Spy: Book 1 The Ex-Apprentices

Published by Julia Group at Smashwords

Copyright © 2011 Julia Group

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

Chapter 1

THE EX-APPRENTICE

Lucia flattened herself against the wall, out of sight, not making a sound or moving a muscle. She knew what that slamming door meant. If she hadn’t been quite so hungry, the girl would never have dared to enter the house in the first place. Unfortunately, having left, or been thrown out of – it didn’t really matter – her apprenticeship to the waxsmith, there was nowhere else to go.

Brandishing a poker, the master had chased her out the door and to the end of Main Street. Since she was halfway home, the ex-apprentice figured she might as well grab a pack full of bread, cheese and apples and sleep out in the open for a few days. Maybe by then Ma would be worried enough to prevail on her Da not to beat her this time, though she doubted it. Standing up for herself or anyone else was not one of Ma’s better qualities. Lucia was rummaging through the cabinets for food when Da came storming in, the front door banging open in front of him.

I’ll kill her, he began softly. Called me away from the forge, by heaven, his voice rose with each word until it was clear he had lost his temper completely. Her mother stood still, eyes wide and silent.

He stood wringing his thick hands in front of him, I’ll have her skinny neck! Six apprenticeships in two years! Can’t take orders, they say! And whose fault is that?

There was only one door out of the kitchen, but, as he was distracted yelling , she gathered enough of her wits to remember the window. Quickly, she sprang on to the table and was out the window, just before the kitchen door slammed against the wall. The last words she ever thought to hear from Da were shouted as usual, Just let me find her, I’ll beat some obedience into that one if it breaks my hand! Just see if I don’t!

Lucia sprinted down the alley as fast as she could, hurdling the piles of garbage that dotted the path, as well as an occasional surprised stray dog or cat. She passed a middle-aged but still pretty gnomish woman, talking earnestly with a tall, elderly merchant. The woman’s tiny hands were pressing into his chest and they were gazing into each other’s eyes, deep in conversation. They weren’t likely to remember her passing, and they certainly weren’t the type Da would ask.

She was glad that she had slipped in while Ma was upstairs working. That way, her mother could tell Da honestly that she had not seen their daughter and did not know where she went. For once the girl was glad for her mother’s lack of hearing. Ma certainly hadn’t heard her come in, as she hadn’t heard anything in many years now. Ma could at least be spared a beating on her account. Of course, how could Ma know where she was going when she did not know herself?

Not to the baker, she had been apprenticed there already. That was her first apprenticeship, and there had at least been plenty to eat, and it was warm in the kitchen where she slept. Two points better than home. However, soon into the term, the baker had begun making advances and innuendos about activities to take place outside of the kitchen. Then she had awakened one night to hear his footsteps coming toward her in the middle of the night. She had been sound asleep, and, in a panic, without even thinking, she had blindly grabbed the nearest defense and ended up hitting him on the head with one of his own iron skillets. He still had the scar from it to this day. His fat wife had blamed Lucia for tempting him, and that had been the end of that apprenticeship – not that she would have stayed after that anyway.

Out of the alley and on the main street now, she walked close beside a centaur couple strolling hand in hand. The female’s thick, lustrous black hair fell past her breasts but that didn’t stop the village men from staring, hoping for a sudden breeze. No man present would remember a mere girl when there was such a much more interesting sight to hope for. Both centaurs trotted with their heads held high, taking no notice at all of humans, as was their habit. She had to jog to keep up with them, but in her present haste, that pace suited Lucia perfectly.

The male was huge, even for a centaur, and hid the girl entirely from the view of those on the opposite side of the street. This was especially fortunate as they passed across from the shop of yet another former employer who might wish Lucia ill. The tailor certainly would not be staring at the centaur woman. In fact, she was probably right now glaring at those men and muttering prayers for their souls.

Mistress Thom didn’t beat her or try to grab her in the night, but she was a devout follower of the Divine Princess. Lucia had never been quite clear what was so divine about her, except that she seemed to be against everything a normal person would ever want to do. Mistress Thom’s divinely inspired rules included, no talking between sunrise and sundown, no talking to males at any hour, no music, no sweets, no drinking anything but water, no second helpings at meals. Lucia often wondered how much of these rules were really the Divine Princess and how much were Mistress Thom’s efforts to get the most possible work out of her apprentices for the least possible number of coins. After she had finally tired of the constant preaching and told Mistress Thom to JUST SHUT UP, BY THE PRINCESS’ BONES! she found out that the two habits most appalling to the Princess were rebelliousness and cursing. So much for apprenticeship number two.

Wherever she went, it had to be somewhere far away, that was clear enough. The centaurs paused in front the well-kept shop of the Ernst the weapons-maker. She should have known. Gifted with far more talent than he had ambition, Ernst was the one true artisan in this rural province, plying his trade in the very shop where he had learned it from his father. The huge male looked at Lucia, amusement in his beautiful, grey eyes, Well, my young companion, he said politely, I hope we have sufficiently shielded you from whatever you are hiding from, for unless you are in the market for a new bow, I fear we must part company here.

The girl was taken aback by this amazing speech, astounded that a centaur had condescended to speak to a human when not absolutely necessary, and could think of nothing more to say than, Thank you, I believe you have helped, yes.

The female gave a sweet, neighing laugh and playfully slapped him on the arm. She, too, smiled pleasantly at Lucia, and turned to wave from the double-wide doorway of the weapons shop. It was only then that the girl realized that she was staring. Perhaps she had some inkling that she was seeing her childhood home for the last time, and she wanted to soak it in to her memory. More likely, it was just the usual good looks and unusual kindness of the centaur pair. They were certainly more attractive than the town itself.

Springtown was like any other small town in the southeast of Nurliyah. It was nothing more than a collection of rickety wooden shacks with thatched roofs, a handful of fine stone houses, six dirt roads and a single cobblestone path. Around three hundred souls scratched out a daily subsistence in the regular collection of little shops found in such places, along with a few ‘families of importance’ totally unknown in the next village ten minutes’ ride away. In short, it had absolutely nothing whatsoever to recommend it. That is, unless one happened to be in the neighborhood and was in the market for a decent weapon at a cheap rate.

It would make a good story to say that Lucia strode purposefully off to pursue her destiny, shaking the dirt from Springtown off her feet as she set down the cobblestone path that turned into the road to the capital.

The truth is that she continued down the road in the direction she had followed the centaurs, for no other reason than that it was less trouble than turning off. Since she had no idea where she was going, one direction was just as good as another. By now, she was far enough from home to slow to a walk. Da would not waste the energy to chase after her when he could just wait to catch her at home, or around some corner, when someone sent him word where she could be found. There were plenty who would be willing to do that. Lucia seemed to have a bad habit of offending anyone she was around long enough. Even if she didn’t always come to blows, it had left her with no one she could turn to in Springtown.

Allo the street! called a cheery wagon-driver, see you don’t get yourself stepped on, now, girl! She had been so caught up in pondering her next step that she hadn’t noticed the snuffling and stomping of the animals coming up behind her, nor the rattling wheels of the wagon they were pulling along at a good pace.

Allo the wagon! called back Lucia, too startled to be rude.

Where you off to, miss? inquired the driver, If it be on the route to Missop, I’d be pleased of some company. Muledragoons are nice, but they don’t talk much.

Why, I was just going to Missop! Lucia exclaimed, thinking to herself, that, at least, she was going to Missop now. It was as good as anywhere else, better than some places, in fact, since Da would not look for her there, and she hadn’t anyone mad at her in Missop. That was most likely only because she had never been there.

Up with you, then, said the driver, as he bent down to swing her beside him. She settled in with a sigh, glad to be off her feet and not being chased for once. Glancing sideways at the driver, he seemed to be a decent enough sort. He looked like someone’s Da, someone else’s Da, that is. Middle-aged, brown, slightly sunburnt on his neck, and a little bit pudgy, he didn’t look like the type who would take her down a back road and slit her throat. Ma always was warning her about lurking dangers that never seemed to happen anywhere but in her imagination. Just to be on the safe side, she pulled her knife out of her pack and began peeling an apple. Best to let him know she was armed.

Seeing her out of the corner of his eye, the driver unsuccessfully tried to hide a smile. Name’s Benj, short for Benjamin, and I am not in the habit of attacking young girls in case you were wondering.

I wasn’t – Lucia began, but he waved off her denial.

Yes, you was, and right of it, too. Not many people get killed in this world by being too cautious. Though, you know, I think you have to have the right amount of caution. Too much caution and you end up staying in a bad situation or not chasing after what you really want in life.

What do you mean by that? Lucia asked suspiciously.

Oh, nothing, I just get tired of not talking, having only muledrags for company. Speaking of which, I would appreciate it if you would save those apple peels. The drags deserve a treat for all their hard work, don’t you think?

Lucia nodded, and they rode on in silence for a while. The muledragoons and driver seemed to know one another well. They walked along at an even pace, only pausing when the road forked. A gentle tap of the reins and cluck from the driver was enough for them to turn in the desired direction. If he had a whip, he didn’t use it often, because it was nowhere in sight. Unlike most people, Lucia was not at all uncomfortable with silence. If no one was yelling at her, that was good enough. Finally, though, curiosity got the better of her.

You never whip your muledrags?

The driver turned in his seat and stared at her for a moment, Now, why would you be saying bad things about me and only known me for half an hour?

Well, answered Lucia, in confusion, I didn’t mean it to be a bad thing. I mean, lots of people, do. Most people, no?

It would be a shame to whip an animal that was just doing its best. And, if it’s not doing its best, I don’t see how whipping a thing makes it more fit to do labor, now, do you? Besides, look at those beautiful animals. What a crime it would be to scar such a good-looking thing.

Lucia looked, but all she saw were four muledragoons, three green and one brown one. They were well-cared for, healthy and strong, yes. Huge, covered with scales, and a bushy white tail sticking out each rear end. Hardly what one would call beautiful. They didn’t even match. At least they didn’t have scars on them. She thought of all of her scars from Da’s beatings, plus the ones she had gotten from masters three, four and five. At least those, she had been able to give some scars back.

Without thinking, she traced the scar over her right eye, the one she had gotten in the fight with the scribe. He had tried to beat her for being late to her place one morning, and when he raised his whip, she had thrown up her arm, and been hit with the handle as he turned the whip around. That was the first time she had really fought back. With blood streaming down her face, she had grabbed the nearest ink jar and thrown it at him with all her strength. It had broken his nose, and that was the end of that apprenticeship.

So it had gone with the coppersmith, who refused to give her gloves, but demanded she remove the still hot plates from the anvil. He went to strike her and she reached for a hot poker to defend herself.

Then there’d been the glassmaker. Despite her small stature, he required her to put all the freshly blown glass on the store’s highest shelves. One afternoon, the rickety ladder broke sending her crashing through four shelves of glass. Lucia lay on the floor nearly unconscious and bleeding, as he stood calculating how long it would take her repay all the damage. She threatened him with the largest of those shards a week later when he refused to let her leave.

Her mind drifted back to that morning with the waxsmith. Lucia had known that one wouldn’t work out. She was not meant to tend bees, a fact the smith had learned first hand when he returned from the market to find the bees escaped. His apprentice was covered in stingers and honey.

She noticed that the wagon had stopped and Benj was looking at her speculatively. What? she asked irritably, dropping her hand to her lap.

Time to feed the drags. Didja keep those apple peels?

Oh, yes.

She climbed down to stretch her legs. After the driver had fed, watered and checked each animal over carefully, he nodded in her direction. Suppose you could feed them those peels, now.

Lucia approached slowly. She wouldn’t say she was scared exactly, but, being raised in town, she wasn’t too accustomed to large animals. Close up, the muledragoons looked pretty big, and their teeth even bigger. Benj was beside her before she noticed it. She flinched when his hand touched hers, but he just clucked as if she was one of his mules. Open your hand flat, that way the drag won’t nibble on one of your fingers, mistaking it for a carrot. He smiled at the way she stiffened. Come on, old Syrup won’t hurt you.

Holding her hand as flat as humanly possible, Lucia held the apple peels out to the brown animal that was already stretching its head toward her. She almost jumped when its lips went back over its large, yellowish teeth, but, a second later she felt a tickling in her palm as the apple peels were nuzzled up. Quickly, she grabbed another handful of peels from her pack and held out her hand again. The muledragoon swung its enormous head, and she noticed that its huge eyes were purple, and the crest on its head was now standing up, instead of laying flat. She wouldn’t go so far as to say it was beautiful, but it certainly was a striking looking animal. She was so engrossed in the drag that she didn’t notice Benj watching her.

Another runaway, he sighed to himself. He was always getting them on this route. There was a lot the same about this one. Almost always, they had been beaten by masters or parents or both. Most of them had told him all about it before they had gotten this far along. Sometimes he tried to talk them into going home, and some times they did. They were usually too young to be out on their own, but they were too young to have had all the hardships they had, too. This one was different, but couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Where the beatings seemed to have tenderized most of them, making them somewhat less than they would have been, this one had healed stronger over the scars.

He took a good look at her, now that she was feeding the drag. Not much to her in a physical way. She was short and wiry, with brown hair to her shoulders, that looked as if it had been cut with a knife, and probably had. There was a white scar over her eye, and several others up and down both arms, he presumed from throwing them up to protect her face. Not beautiful, but healthy and strong, and there was something about the way she carried herself. Most of the runaways cowered, as if to say, Don’t beat me. This one stood straight with an attitude of defiance.

So, Benj asked, conversationally, as they climbed back up the wagon, What takes you to Missop?

What takes you to Missop? was the reply.

He chuckled to himself, as he answered, It’s my job. Drive the barrels to Missop. Drop off the ale. Drive to the next town with the next load. None too exciting, but that’s what I do. Not that I mind it. I kinda like being out on the road, but it can be a lonely job, just me and the muledrags.

Although it hadn’t been a long speech, by the end of it, she was asleep, or pretending to be, at any rate. He nudged her, and pointed with his thumb toward the back. She climbed in and fell asleep, really asleep this time, on a blanket laid in front of the barrels. When she woke up, Benj was shaking her and the sun was shining brightly overhead. She sat bolt upright, fists in front of her, ready for a fight. Benj just shook his head sadly, Whose been beating you?

What did you say? she asked argumentatively, but he just shook his head.

Nothing, it’s just an expression. Look, I need to get some sleep. I have been driving all night, and you’re in my spot.

Oh, sorry, she got up hurriedly, before he could get any ideas about joining her.

No matter. I would appreciate it, though, if you could keep an eye on the drags. They are tied, and shouldn’t be a bother. Lots of rats around silos for ‘em to eat.

He laid down fully clothed and was soon snoring away.

With nothing better to do, Lucia walked over to watch the muledragoons. They were milling around, munching placidly, looking for all the world like a bunch of scaly cows. Lazily, one of them, she thought she had heard him called Scarab, lowered his head toward a hole in the silo wall and snorted a billow of smoke. Fearing fire, several rats scurried out almost immediately, and were licked into the large open mouth by the drag’s long, wide tongue. He closed his eyes sleepily and munched, blood dripping down both sides of his jaw. Lucia grimaced at the sight, reminding herself that she didn’t even like rats. She had been thinking of asking Benj if he needed an apprentice, so she had better get used to this if he were to have any idea of saying yes at all.

Caught up in her thoughts, and feeling safe this far from home, she was rudely shaken when a rough hand grabbed her and a too familiar voice, growled, "So, there you are! Made me miss another day at the forge. I’ll make you pay for that one! And when you can stand