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Authors: Craig Alanson

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Gruch wasn

t unpopular only with
Mother Furliss, he was unpopular with his flock in his home church. And any
church he'd ever been in. Faith and a desire to serve are not what had called
Emil Gruch to the church as a young man; poverty and laziness had motivated
him. He was the fourth son of a merchant family that had fallen on hard times;
his oldest brother would inherit the struggling business, which left Emil and
his two other brothers to find their own ways in the world. Two brothers joined
the army, which might have inspired Emil to follow them, except he saw how hard
they worked, being outside in all kinds of weather. And then there was the
danger, which did not appeal to Emil at all. When his brother Thomas was hit in
the shoulder by an orc arrow, and came home to recover for three months, Emil
decided army life was not for him. Fortunately for Emil, and unfortunately for
the followers of the faith, the priest in Emil

s home town was elderly, and increasingly
unable to manage by himself. Young Emil began helping the old priest, when he
wasn

t working
in his parents' shop, and soon the old man had taught the young man the basic
points of the scriptures, and the typical ceremonies of the faith. What he saw
of priestly life did appeal to young Emil; a roof over your head, food provided
not by your own sweat but by donations from the townspeople, respect from the
people both common and royal. The work was not hard, either, if you didn

t want to work hard at it,
except for the part about caring for the sick. Emil didn

t like that, didn

t enjoy it to this day,
and avoided those duties as much as possible.

Before the old
priest died, he had, reluctantly, for he saw no great calling of faith in young
Emil, written a letter of recommendation for the young man to be trained in the
priesthood. Emil had seen studying at the monastery, where he had discovered to
his dismay there were only two meals a day, and meager ones at that, as his
ticket to an easy life. As he read all the proper scrolls, and said all the
proper things, and did not cause trouble, the priests in charge of the
monastery had not seen how they could deny him graduation, and ordination as a
priest.

Unfortunately
for Emil, he had not been as successful as a priest as he had imagined. He had
to work harder than he wanted, and the ceremonies were so dull, and the
ungrateful townspeople not so generous with their donations, and it seemed like
there were always sick people he had to visit. Even when he was assigned to the
royal chapel, two weeks a year, donations seemed to be significantly less than
what Mother Furliss had told him was customary. So, Father Gruch was in even
more of a bad mood than usual, when Koren interrupted his lunch. And then Gruch
looked more closely at the young man, who had given such a pitiful donation.

Oh, you

re the wizard

s brat.

Wizards were a
particular source of irritation and jealousy for Father Gruch. Just because
wizards could touch, influence and command the spirit world to affect the world
of the living, ordinary people thought wizards were sooooo powerful. Lies!
Priests, Gruch told any and all who would listen, guided people

s souls to their reward
the spirit world, and wasn

t
that more powerful, and more useful, than the silly tricks wizards played with
their skills? Especially since, Gruch hinted darkly, many, many wizards used
their power for evil purposes, and even the best of them used foul, dark magics
that were forbidden!

Koren bowed
fearfully. This priest didn

t
seem very nice.

Yes,
sir, Father Gruch, I am Lord Salva

s
servant.

The mention of
the word

Lord

made Gruch almost bite
his tongue. How did a wizard merit the title

Lord

,
when a dedicated servant of God like Emil Gruch only had the humble title of

Father

? Gruch looked back at his
lunch, which was growing cold already.

What
did he send you here for, boy?


Oh, begging your pardon,
sir, but the wizard didn

t
send me, he doesn

t
know I

m here.
I came, you see, for, um, for spiritual guidance?

Koren wasn

t sure those were the right words.

I want to know if a person
can really be cursed, sir, Father.


Hmmmm.

Now, this might be
interesting enough to interrupt lunch.

Spiritual
guidance? You came to the right place, boy. I am a graduate of the Suyurdan
monastery, and am an expert in the scriptures and the eternal mysteries.

Gruch didn

t know which mysteries
were the eternal ones, but it sounded impressive.

Come with me.

Gruch walked back into
the side chamber where he had been eating lunch, and put the lunch plate on top
of the stove to keep warm. He was about to wipe his hands on his robe, when he
realized that was not quite the way to impress the boy, so he splashed some
water on his hands, and dried them properly with a towel. Gruch draped the
official scarf of his office around his shoulders, and waved Koren to sit
opposite him.

What
is troubling you, child? You can unburden yourself to me, you are safe in this
house of the faith.

Koren, having
never been in a chapel, was impressed, and intimidated. The priest was doing
his best to appear kind and caring, but his expression was severe.

I, um, I want to know, can
a person be cursed? Could a person be cursed, to be, to be a jinx, for example?
To jinx other people, and cause bad things to happen, by accident?

Even in his
little church on the outskirts of the city, Emil Gruch had heard a vague rumor
about something being strange with the wizard

s new servant boy. A rumor whispered in
confidence by another priest, who wasn

t
supposed to say anything.

This
cursed person, this jinx, is this a friend of yours? Or it is you? Come, speak,
and speak the truth, you cannot hide truth from God, boy.

Koren

s mouth was dry.

Uh, sir, Father, it

s me, sir. You see,
strange things have been happening around me, since I was little. Sometimes,
bad things. Paedris, I mean, Lord Salva, says there is no such thing as jinxes-


Of course there are! Why
else would we have a word

jinx

in our language?

Gruch interrupted.

Continue, boy.


I don

t mean for bad things to
happen, and I don

t
do
anything, bad things just seem to happen when I

m around.


Um hmmm, um hmmm. And when
did these bad things start? What is your earliest memory of these jinx things?

This was more interesting
than Gruch had hoped, he had, for the moment, forgotten about his lunch.

Koren thought
back.

I
guess, when I was five or so.

Koren listed some of the worst jinx incidents, ending with him
destroying the grain mill.


Yes, yes. And did you do
something bad at that time, the first time you realized you

re a jinx? Steal something,
or disobey your parents, perhaps?


Oh, no, sir. Not, not
anything like that.

Gruch leaned
forward, his face very stern

Think,
and answer truthfully. God does not curse people unless they have been wicked.
What did you do?

Koren felt
tears welling up in his eyes.

I,
I, I, um,

he
searched his memory,

that
was about the time my parents wanted to have another baby. I remember my mother
said she

d
like a daughter, but I told her that I wanted a brother, to play with, and to
help with my chores around the farm.

Father Gruch
shook his head slowly.

You
wicked, wicked boy. How could you be so selfish, to go against your dear mother

s hopes for a daughter?
And all because you were so lazy that you wanted someone else to milk the cows,
and harvest the crops?

Koren bowed
his head in shame.

I
didn

t mean
it.

 


Come now, you meant it at
the time didn

t
you?

One of
the few things Father Gruch actually enjoyed about is job was reprimanding, and
punishing, the wicked. And there were so many wicked, particularly among the
people unfortunate enough to belong to his little church. The parts of the
scriptures about God

s
righteous vengeance, although only the smallest part of the spiritual
teachings, were Gruch

s
favorite parts to read.


I guess so. Yes.

Koren said in a whisper,
unable to look the priest, the representative of God, in the eye.

God has cursed me?


What do you think, boy?

Gruch flashed a quick
grin, before the boy could see. Clearly, the boy was cursed? How else could he
be a jinx, and have all those bad things happen around him? There was no other
explanation!


What, what can I do? To
lift the curse?


Oh, there

s nothing you can
do
.
God

s will is
not like a debt you can pay, boy! You don

t
bargain with the Almighty. You are going to be a jinx, and a curse and a danger
to all around you, until, and if, God determines you have been punished enough.
And that may not happen in your lifetime. What you can do is try to be good,
from now on, and not give God reason to curse you more, and punish the people
around you.


Yes, sir, Father Gruch,
sir. Sir? Could Paedris, Lord Salva, help me?

Mention of the
wizard

s name
angered Gruch.

No!
You think wizards are more powerful than mere priests, because of their silly
magic tricks?


No, no, sir.

Koren stammered.


You best not, boy!"
The priest's voice thundered righteously. "Look to wizards for useless
potions, and silly tricks, and smoke and lights. Look to a priest when you fear
for your soul, boy. Your master wizard may be able to stop your jinx from hurting
someone, if he is lucky, and is there in time, and sees what is happening,

Gruch wasn

t exactly clear on how
jinx curses worked, but they had to be powerful,

but he cannot help you lift your curse.

Gruch sniffed, and leapt
to his feet. His lunch was burning on the stove. He raced over, scorched his
fingers on the plate, shouted some very unspiritual words, and used the hem of
his robe to lift the plate onto the table. The scent of the food reminded him
of his hunger. His interest in the boy

s
curse was satisfied.

Begone,
boy, think on your sins, repent and try to follow the path of righteousness.
And remember! What is said in this chapel, in this holy house of God, between a
priest and the faithful, is private and not to be repeated to anyone. Especially
not to a wizard!

CHAPTER
SIX

 


Oh!

Ariana exclaimed as she
pulled the neck of her dress up to cover her mouth and nose.

What is that
smell
?

The princess,
with her guards and maids, had been crossing the palace courtyard, when there
was a muffled explosion from the wizard

s
tower, and a burst of green light. Explosions and lights coming from that tower
were not unusual, to the dismay of the residents of the castle. What was
unusual was the thin, sickly greenish mist that poured down from the windows,
and the mist smelled
terrible
. Like, as if some very large, stinky beast
had died in the tower several days ago, and someone had unwisely just opened
the door. Or, that same large beast had eaten something that didn

t agree with it, and had
the worst case of gas
ever
. Her maids began choking on the mist, and her
guards, coughing and choking, grasped her arms to hustle her away to safety,
when she saw the wizard and Koren stumble out the tower

s doorway into the
courtyard.

Wait!

She ordered her guards.

Help them.

The wizard, on
his knees and choking, pulled a wand from inside his robes, and gasped out
words in a language Ariana didn

t
understand. The mist stopped pouring from the windows, but it was too late.
Tendrils of the mist had reached across the courtyard into the palace, and
people were already running out into the courtyard, pinching their noses and
looking around in disgust.

The guards
helped Paedris and Koren to their feet, and the party staggered across the
courtyard, gagging and coughing,  to climb the stairs inside the wall that
ringed the castle. Higher was better, as the heavy mist tended to cling to the
ground. When they reached the top of the wall and could stick their faces into
the wind that blew from the west, everyone hung over the wall, gasping for
breath, trying to keep their stomachs from rebelling.

Lord Salva,

Ariana managed to say,

what happened?

She glanced down into the
courtyard, to see people frantically rushing around, trying to get away from
the stench. She almost laughed when she saw Charl Fusting, the palace

s chief of protocol,
attempting to keep his dignity by striding stiffly, rather than running, and
holding a handkerchief over his mouth. But then the breeze swirled a thick
tendril of mist across the man, his eyes bulged and he ran in panic, tripped
over his own feet, and fell into a puddle.


I was-

Paedris paused to catch
his breath,

brewing
a healing potion. Or I thought I was.

The wizard

s
eyes narrowed, and he turned angrily to his servant.

Koren, are you certain
that was leaves of arrowroot that you brought?


Yes! And I ground it up
real fine, like you said.

Koren replied fearfully. Growing up on a farm, he was used to being around
unpleasant smells sometimes, but he

d
never even imagined anything smelling as bad as that mist. Had the foul mist
been caused by his jinx, his curse?


A single, narrow, silvery
leaf, with serrated edges?

Koren shook
his head.

No,
that

s a
spearleaf tree. Arrowroot leaves are dark green, and shaped like a triangle,
with smooth edges.

Paedris rubbed
his beard in frustration.

Ah!
This is my fault, I should have considered that trees could be called different
names in Crickdon than they are here.


So, you mixed the wrong
potion?

Ariana asked.


It would seem so!


What potion did you mix?


I don

t know, it was a mistake,

the wizard bit his lip in
disgust,

but
I

ll be sure
never to do that again!

As the mist
cleared, Ariana became aware of where the worst of the smell was now coming
from.

Uh,
Lord Salva, Koren, I think your clothes are,

she wrinkled her nose,

rather fragrant.

Koren lifted
his arm to his nose and sniffed his shirt sleeve.

Oh! Blast! That smell is
in my clothes, and my hair now.

Ariana backed
away, making sure to be upwind from the stinky pair.

Perhaps you two had better
bathe, maybe in the stables?


Or a pigsty.

One of her guards
muttered under his breath.

 

Koren shivered
as he scrubbed sand into his hair, then lathered his hair, for the fourth time,
with a rough bar of soap. Taking a couple deep breaths, to steel his nerves, he
plunged his head under the surface of the pond again and again, until he was
gasping for breath. Sniffing, he still caught a whiff of that terrible smell.
Or he imagined it. Or the smell now was in the pond water. Or in the tissues of
his nose. Either way, he couldn't get himself any more clean without scraping
his skin off, which he'd almost done. The stablemaster hadn't let him in, or
even near the stables, when many of the horses panicked after  getting a
nosefull of Koren. Paedris had been brought to the servant's bath in the
castle, there to be attended by several servants who doubtless wished they'd
volunteered to shovel out the stables that day, but Koren had been left to
scoot out a rarely-used castle gate, and bathe himself in a cold pond that lay
half a mile from the imposing stone walls of the castle.

Fish had swum
away in a hurry when Koren plunged into the pond, and not only because he'd
disturbed them; he was polluting the water with a horrible stench. Standing up,
wearing only short underpants, he looked in dismay at his clothes. There was no
way he could ever get that smell out of the wool and cotton fabric of his
clothes. Best to dig a hole, then, and bury them.

Would the cost
of the clothes be taken from his pay? So far, all his clothes, and his meals,
and everything he'd needed in the castle, had been free. When Paedris sent him
out to get something from the city, the wizard gave him coins, and never
bothered to count the coins that were returned to the brass money chest in the
wizard's office. A chest full of coins, that was not even locked!

Koren
scratched his now-itchy scalp, and put on the clean, rough work clothes he'd
brought with him. The wizard was a good master to Koren, he could not ask for
better. Around Crebb's Ford, there had been stories of sons or daughters who
had been sent away to serve an apprenticeship, to learn a trade and secure
their futures; stories of masters who abused their young charges, blamed them
for everything that went wrong, demanded more money from their parents, and
failed to provide any training. Koren knew of two boys who had run away from
their abusive masters, run away and come home shamefully, for their parents had
spent much hard-earned coins to get the apprenticed, and now the sons returned
with no money and no trade learned. Or worse, for everyone had heard the tale
of Annabelle Clintock, who had been excited to go away to be a house servant
for the family of a knight. Everyone in the village had been excited for her,
too, until she returned one day, clothes dirty, shoes missing, having walked
most of the way home. The mistress of the house had beaten her for the
slightest reason, the girls in the family were also cruel to her, and when the
knight was at home, he had taken to sneaking up on Annabelle and kissing her
roughly. Which the mistress of the house blamed on Annabelle. When the man
tried to open the door to the tiny attic closet where she slept one dark night,
she had escaped out the window, climbed down a rosebush, and made her way home
to Crebbs Ford over the next week. Almost every family in the poor village had
contributed something to the girl's family, Koren's family had donated a
piglet, but her dreams of becoming a royal maid had been dashed.

Koren was
willing to take abuse, up to a point; as a commoner it was simply part of life,
that his betters would lord themselves over him. To a point, and no more. So,
if Paedris insisted that Koren pay for the ruined clothes, he would do that.
But he wasn't taking all the blame for stinking up half the castle.

 


You wished to see me, Lady
Trehayme?

Paedris said as he swept into Carlana

s
royal office chamber, cutting off the frustrated guard

s attempt to announce the
wizard. Technically, Carlana had
summoned
her court wizard, but Paedris
had taken his time arriving at the palace. No one
summoned
Lord Paedris
Don Salva de la Murta, and he certainly didn

t respond to a summons from a timid Regent.

But if Carlana
noticed the wizard

s
lateness, she didn

t
mention it.

Oh,
yes, Paedris,

she said, looking up from a pile of scrolls scattered across her desk,

come in, come in.

She dismissed the guard
with a gesture, and walked over by the window, where they could speak without
being overheard. Also, where there was a breeze coming into the room. Paedris
and Koren had been scrubbed until their skin was pink in the stables two days
before, and declared that the smell was gone, but Carlana wasn

t taking any
chances. 

I

ve news of Koren

s parents.

Paedris

eyebrows shot up.

Indeed?


Yes,

the Regent said with a
frown,

his
father only had one sibling, a brother, Koren

s uncle,

she checked the scroll for the name,

what
is it, oh,

Ander
Bladewell

,
and he was no help. Koren's mother

s
family are traveling traders, one of my search parties located their caravan in
Holdeness, where they

re
staying over the winter.


Search parties?

Paedris asked in
surprise.

I
didn

t know-


Ariana insisted. And we do
owe the boy, after all. With the caravan are a couple of his mother

s relatives, they knew
where to find his mother

s
cousin, where his parents told Koren they were going. The cousin lives, or
lived, in Surtagne.


Lived?


The search party reports
that he died four months before Koren left, um, Crab Ford, or something, his
village. His mother wouldn

t
have known.


I take it that the search
party didn

t
find Koren

s
parents in Surtagne?

Carlana shook
her head.

No,
and no one remembers his mother being there. I think his parents lied about
where they were going, before they, they-

Carlana

s
hands gripped the rolled-up scroll, twisting it in anger,

dumped him on the side of
the road. What kind of people abandon their own children? If we ever do find
them, I

d be
tempted to hang the miserable wretches!

Paedris took
the scroll from the Regent, and laid it on the table.

Carlana, they believed
their son was cursed, a jinx. Based on what Koren tells me happened around him
in that village, I don

t
blame people for thinking he was a jinx, the fact is, he was dangerous. In the
last incident, he destroyed the village

s
only grain mill, by accident, of course. The people of his village are poor
farmers, they live year by year on their crops, and if they can

t grind their grain, they
have nothing much else to sell. His parents, well, they must have figured there
was nothing they could do about a jinx.

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