Sorceress

By Paul G Mann

Xavier, a youth on the eve of his adulthood initiation with Gwen, his girlfriend of next door, is given a scroll by his father. The scroll is from his dead mother, a powerful sorceress, telling him she is very much alive and he has a twin sister. She also informs him, when he wakes an adult on his eighteenth birthday, he will also acquire the gift of magic. The scroll set him out on a quest, first to find his sister, then an unknown uncle, brother to his mother; the uncle will give them guidance in the use of magic.
They must reach level two standard in magic to free their mother from the land of the elves where their natural father banished her years ago. Assassins chase them, sent by their father to stop them freeing their mother. When the truth finally reveals itself, friend become foe, and foe become friend, in between it is knowing who to trust.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Paul G Mann
• Release date: Dec 10, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215408674

Paul G Mann

Paul started writing after a heart attack, some 17 years ago. His career has seen him as a merchchant seaman, a telephone operator, window cleaner and lastly a taxi driver.  Since then he has published a number of books and written numerous short stories, all for his own amusement. As Paul says, if you like his writing, good. If not , tough.

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Acknowledgements

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Wirral Writers for the support, advise and critique of the work as it progressed

http://www.pixabay.com for the cover artwork.

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Also, by this author

Newth 1

Newth 2

Newth 3

Solace

A Child of Time

One Small Step

A Revelation at Ancandanter

Tony Higgins (An Alien by any other name)

Midshipman GOD

The Last Magician.

The Sab’s of Mentra

Sorceress

Chapter One

Tomorrow, I become a man, able at last to make my own way in life; make decisions without fear of criticism, or chastisement from my father or the village elders. However, today I am still a child, subject to the orders of the village adults, and to obey my father without question, or suffer the consequences. As villages go, Dominion Creek, is a modest settlement, boasting a small inn and about a hundred houses. Not a particularly prosperous place, the main occupation being that of farmers, who worked the land from dawn till dusk for payments that were hardly enough to sustain them. We were lucky, my father and I, he owned the tanning shed on the village outskirts, producing some of the best leather in the district. His services always in demand at a price he set to keep us that much better off than other families.

Growing in Dominion Creek was to my mind overshadowed by my father’s strict code of morals. I was never an easy child to bring up, especially by a father, left alone by his wife's, my mother’s death when I was still a toddler. He was always strict with me, but he was fair, always taking my side in village disputes if he thought I was right. I was expected to tell the truth, and admit to my mistakes; failure led to punishment. He sounds heartless, and I dare say, at times he was; but he loved me, of that I had never doubted.

The last few months of my seemingly prolonged childhood, has been particularly frustrating, with my fathers’ usual dour features, not getting any better as I approached adulthood. I often wondered why? Tonight, I was about to find out as I sat down to supper, looking at my father with a self-satisfied smile on my face; I had survived my final day as a child, its rigours, all without rebuke. Tomorrow, I turn eighteen, looking forward with nervous apprehension to my adulthood initiation. A fear runs through me, desperately hoping I give my initiation partner the respect she deserves. Like me, she too becomes an adult, and like me is filled with nervous apprehension.

‘I have an early present for you,’ my father said, handing me a sealed scroll. ‘Read it as soon as you finish your supper.’

‘What is it?’ I asked, ‘who is it from?’

‘It is the fulfilment of a promise I made to your mother,’ he answered, his normal dour expression deepening to what looked like a scowl. His reply wiped the smile from my face. Mother was someone he never talked about. Even now, I could see the hurt in his eyes as they softened with her memory. The scowl had gone, his eyes misted over, and his voice an almost whisper as he said. ‘She demanded I gave it to you the day before your eighteenth birthday.’

‘I don’t understand,’ I said.

‘Eat your supper and read the scroll,’ he interrupted me. ‘Your understanding will come then. If you have any questions, I will try to answer them as best as I can.’

We ate in silence after that; the only words coming from my father, as he ordered me to keep eating if I reached for the scroll while there was still food on my plate. Finished with my meal, I took the rolled-up parchment and stared at the unbroken seal. My father stood and began clearing the dishes from the table, as I picked up my mother’s final words. I knew then whatever was in the scroll was serious; because clearing the table was my job, dad would never demean himself by doing my chores. While he busied himself, I broke the seal. Opening it, I nervously noted the beautiful, painstakingly written, cursive script, and read, thanking my father for taking the time to teach me to read and write.

"My Dear Xavier,

I hope these words find you well and looking forward to tomorrow and your transition into adulthood. There is not a day that passes when you are not in my thoughts; I miss you, I long to hold you and hear your voice now that you have grown. I know the years have been kind to you because you have been brought up with your father’s love and understanding. I know this as I know my own soul. Tomorrow, you become a man, and as a man, you need to know things because, my son, Tomorrow is the day your life will change.

The man you call father is not your natural father. He is a good man who loved me and married me, knowing I was already with child. He promised to bring you up as his own son, and I have no reason to doubt he did that with love and affection. He knows what is in this scroll, except for one thing. While you must know it, I beg you not to tell him; it will hurt him deeply. I am not dead; I am alive, in hiding from a monster who seeks my death. With your help, I will one day return. Nothing is certain. I may not return from where I go. If your father knows I live, it might give him a false hope.

When you wake in the morning following your initiation, you will feel a power in you, you cannot explain. It is the essence and the force of magic. Do not use it. If you need help, it will come to your aid, but be warned, without training, you will undoubtedly kill yourself. There is only one person in the world, I trust to teach you how to use your powers, and that is my brother, your uncle, Kennet. Go to him; he lives far to the south in the town of Weybridge. He will teach you how to use and control magic. Listen to him, heed his words, or the magic will grow in you and seek a release. If you cannot release it or control it, it will become unstable and kill you. You have until you are twenty-one before the power inside seeks stability. Go to Kennet, trust him and do as he instructs you.

One last thing, my son, you will not be alone on your quest; you also have a sister, Carla, a twin who is older than you by ten minutes. She, too, will need training. Find her and take her to Kennet before she is also consumed by the power within her. By now, she will know of you and why you have been apart all these years. To help you find her, your father will give you an amulet, the other half of which Carla has, the two halves will draw you together.

I am sorry I have not been in your life; your father will tell you why and answer any questions you may have. What he cannot answer or does not know Kennet will. Never doubt that I love both you and your sister. It is that love that has forced this parting. It also keeps me going, hoping one day, I will be able to hold you in my arms and tell you face to face how much you mean to me. Until that day, I ask one final thing, please, tell your father I will never love another man as I love him.

Your loving mother  

Eleanor."

‘What did she say,’ Father asked as I looked up after reading the scroll?

‘I have a sister,’ I replied, the information not fully registering. ‘And I have to embark on a quest to find her.’

‘Anything else?’ he demanded.

‘It seems I also have an uncle, name of Kennet,’ I replied

‘Both true,’ he answered, holding out a thin leather neckband with half of a small silver disc hanging from it. ‘I am to give you this; as far s I know, it will help you find Carla, your sister.’

‘She also said you would explain things,’ I said, automatically taking the band, coldness creeping into my voice. ‘What really happened to my mother.’

‘I’m surprised your mother never mention that I am not your natural father,’ he said, looking me in the eye, defying me to say anything about it. ‘Xavier, I don’t know who your birth father is, but I will kill any man who says you are not my son. I may not have sired you, but as God is my judge, you are mine. As to your mother,’ another rare smile crossed his face as he spoke of her. ‘I met her on a cold and wet night as I returned from delivering tanned hides to Hinterland Farm. She was lying by the roadside, unconscious, and soaking wet. How she got there, I don’t know; she would never tell me. It was too distressing for her to speak about; after finding her, I brought her home before she died of the cold, and asked Erin Fairclough to see to her. Between us, we got her into bed, and I left Erin to make her comfortable. Later she came out and told me your mother had a suffered some bruising around the face and ribs; she assumed she had fallen from a horse. Anyway, she recovered and asked to stay with me as she was pregnant with nowhere to go; we were married two weeks later. You and your sister were born two months after that.’

‘What happened to her?’ I demanded.

‘You and your sister were twelve months old when she came to me with a wild tale of sorcery and wizards.’ he replied with his eyes downcast. ‘I discounted it, of course, as you are aware, we are God fearing people around here, who think wizards and the like are nothing but folktales. That night however, I became a believer as she showed me what she was capable of. Then came the bombshell. She was leaving me, you were to stay with me, and she would take your sister to a childhood friend. I pressed her for a reason, begging her not to go, or at least leave your sister with me. I was distraught at her leaving, but all she said was if she stayed, she would die, so would you, and your sister Carla, and probably me. I didn’t care, I told her, without her I would be as good as dead, but she said she needed me to look after you, as she was dying anyway. A disease of the heart, she said. I was to let her go so I could move on, and make sure you and your sister would be safe.’

‘But why split my sister and me?’ I asked, ‘it doesn’t make sense.’

‘She said it was because of the magic in you,’ he replied. ‘Together you could be found; apart, and you were safe until you reached the age of eighteen. Someone or something was after her; if they knew she was your mother, you too would die. Even splitting you from your sister could be dangerous, she told me. Now, as adults, you and your sister will have the power to defeat what, or whoever comes looking for you; to do that, you must work together; if you don’t, you can’t win.’

‘If I refuse,’ I said, ‘what will happen? What if I don’t want magical powers? What I want is to stay here, help you in the tannery, and maybe one day, marry Gwendoline. Magic is not for me.’

‘You must!’ he snapped. ‘I have not kept you alive for these years only for you to betray your mother’s final wishes. Besides, stay here and not only will you die, so will your sister, myself, and probably both ours and Carla’s village’s. Someone wants you dead, and they do not care who else dies trying to kill you.’

‘Who, and why?’ I snapped.

‘I don’t know,’ he answered. ‘Your mother said when you asked those questions, to tell you Kennet will give you the answer.’

‘Kennet, who the hell is Kennet, and why hasn’t his name been mentioned before?’ I demanded.

‘Your mother’s family name is Isherwood,’ he replied. ‘I assume that is the name Kennet will be known by. I understand he lives far to the south in a place called Weybridge. As to why he has never been mentioned? Your mother didn’t want you to know about him or magic until you were and adult. It stopped you wondering and probably stopped you showing any magical ability you have.’

‘The scroll said I must be trained before I am 21,’ I said, defiance still coursing through me. ‘How long will this training take?’

‘Again, only Kennet will know that.’ He answered, ‘I was to tell you to seek your sister and begin the training as soon as you can. Once the magic in you begins to stir, you can be found; your training will be the only thing that will keep you alive.’

‘Then if I must leave, it will be next week.’ I said, looking at him, daring him to argue with me. ‘I have looked forward to my transition to adulthood. I am not missing out because of some unknown magic.’

‘Next week will be soon enough,’ he smiled, ‘Tomorrow you become a man, what type of father would I be if I denied you that? We will talk more about this as you prepare to leave. I would have liked to come with you, but your mother was insistent, the quest to find your sister, and Uncle you must do alone.’

The rest of the night I spent with my mind in turmoil. Up there, as the number one turmoil producing fact, was my mother’s claim that she still lives; a close second was I had a sister. The other inconsequential idiocies like I was a potential wizard, my father wasn’t my real father, and I had to travel to Weybridge to see an unknown uncle. All added to the turmoil in my head, but everything paled into insignificance behind the fact, my mother still lived.

I tried pushing the thoughts out of my head by thinking of Gwendoline. My next-door neighbour and friend since early childhood. As young children, we spent our days playing together; to the rest of the villagers, we were alike as peas in their pods. What she liked, so did I, her sense of fun and quest for adventure much like mine. We would often be seen happily playing in the woods, climbing trees, kicking stones and swimming together, naked in the lake at the back of my father’s tannery. Now the gangly young girl had grown, filling out to a become a beautiful young woman, my father, and her mother banning us from our naked swims.

We formed a pact last year, when we talked about us taking on the mantle of adults. We would do it together, she would be my first, and I would be hers. We had been friends, close friends for years, our gravitating to each other because we were of similar age and also neighbours, entirely natural. We no longer climbed trees or swam naked in the lake, but she still ordered me around. When that failed to get me to do her bidding, she used a smile. She knew that would get me jumping through hoops, much more than an angry shout or temper tantrum. It was the early hours of the morning, with the light beginning to brighten the eastern sky, before I fell into a fitful sleep.

Chapter Two

Despite the poor night’s sleep, I woke in the morning feeling refreshed and energised, determined to face the day with a smile. It was the magic stirring within me, my father said, but that was as much as he knew or told me. My resolve had also changed; yesterday, or last evening, I was determined to stay here as long as possible. I wanted nothing more than to make a life here with people I knew, and others I loved. Now, something was compelling me to get far away from my comfortable life, and begin to search for my sister. It wasn’t something I had thought about, or made plans for, but the compulsion I felt was resolute. It built in me as the day progressed, the compulsion nearly overpowering me to find my sister, seek our uncle, and rescue my mother. I idly wondered why I had this intense urge, and how much the amulet had to do with my resolve.

In my head was what I can only describe as an idea, prompting me to look in the south-west, even stipulating the ocean coast as a place to look. It took the best part of the morning to get the idea out of my head, replaced as my nerves began to worry about the forthcoming night’s activities. Tension, and the beginning of an unnatural panic, well unnatural for me, invaded my body and thoughts as the day wore on. My father helped, he was someone to talk to; someone to unload my worries and concerns on, as I began the ritual of bathing while the rest of the village made merry with games and sports. The serious part of the day, would be later when Gwendoline and myself, immersed ourselves into the initiation of adulthood. While the villagers made merry, I spent my time nervously wondering if I would do my friend justice, and hope against hope I would please her. When we indulged in our activity to become adults; the sports would stop, only to herald the start of some serious drinking by our friends and family.

My afternoon went slowly; once my father left at noon, I was allowed no one to help calm my nerves. No activity to take my mind away from the night forthcoming acts. The time spent on my own was meant to put away my childhood, and reflect on how I would conduct my future life. With my mother’s scroll running through my head, my future life was a blank canvas to me. My only entertainment was the shouts and squeals of my friends and neighbours as they danced in the village square. At five minutes to the hour of 6.00 o’clock, a silence fell. It was time for my journey to adulthood to begin. I checked the mirror; I was looking as good as I was ever going to get. Dressed in the Virgin white tunic demanded of the ceremony, I opened the door and waited for my escort to come and get me. My knees were shaking, my head a swirl of emotion; not made any better when I looked to my right and saw Gwendoline standing in her doorway, her beauty something to behold, making my worries even worse. Like me, she waited for friends to escort her to the square. Like me, she was terrified.

She looked to be in a worse state than me as she held onto the door frame to help keep her balance. She was bright red with sweat on her brow, and my heart went out to her. I wanted to quieten her fears, take the nerves