Bound to Survive (The Magic Within Book 1) (8 page)

Henry walked his horse around to the front of the little hut which had been his home for nearly twenty years. He fastened the saddlebags onto his horse and tied the canvas behind the cantle. He’d rolled the blankets up tightly with the box inside and made sure it was safely hidden before he wrapped the blankets in the canvas to keep out any rain. Henry made sure all was securely in place and he took a last look around. How lonely he’d been without his beloved Eleanor and his children. He now faced the journey to be reunited with his grandson Christopher. Would his grandson be ready? He wondered if Christopher would accept his part in all this. He’d had to flee from his home at such a tender young age, and thank goodness for Albert and Rose, at least Christopher was loved and with his aunt and uncle.

Henry mounted his horse and turned her head towards Corn Fallow. He’d travel through the village, turn left and head on to Thomas and Mary’s house. He had to see them before he left otherwise they’d worry and search for him. He’d tell them the truth about what had happened. How he’d been forced to flee the Keep and about his wife Eleanor, his family and finally about his journey to be reunited with Christopher. He was sad to leave them, but felt sure they’d see each other again and hopefully it would be under happier circumstances.

Henry passed through the village. Oppression hung heavily in the air. Soldiers patrolled the village of Corn Fallow and made sure their presence was seen and felt by the people. Henry scowled as a troop on patrol passed him by. People hurried about their business so as not to draw attention to themselves. An old man sat under a tree by what used to be a thriving trade house. Now it was used as an armoury to store the weapons of battle the invaders had brought with them. As the village was under Lord Arnak’s rule there was no need for the soldiers to carry the heavy weapons of war anymore and a soldier now only needed his sword, knife and cudgel to instil fear into the citizens who remained in the village. The patrol stopped and began to harass the old man.

‘Why do you loiter here, old man?’

‘It’s hot today and I sought rest under the shade of this tree,’ he said.

‘Well on your way now,’ the soldier said as he stepped forward and reached out towards him. The old man had begun to rise when the soldier’s hands grabbed at his cloak and dragged him roughly to his feet. Henry feared what could happen. The soldiers were known to become heavy handed when they dealt with people who didn’t jump at their demands.

Henry rode his horse closer to the soldiers as they surrounded the man. ‘There you are, Joseph! Sorry I’m late. Old Betsy here had a stone in her hoof. Took me quite a while to sort her out it did,’ Henry said. He didn’t know this man and his name certainly wasn’t Joseph. The man looked at Henry and knew his game. He’d become worried himself when the soldier had grabbed him. ‘Well come on, Joseph, I haven’t got all day to dilly-dally around while you converse with your friends here. We’ve things to do you know.’

The soldiers pushed the old man forward. He was glad to be away from them and he walked towards Henry. Henry ranted on again, and as he steered his horse and the man away the soldiers lost interest and continued on their way.

Henry and the old man moved on down the road away from the Trading House, before Henry stopped and dismounted.

‘Thank you, Sir. You saved my skin,’ the old man said and he reached out to shake Henry’s hand. ‘I’m Frank Lounder.’

‘Pleased to meet you, Frank. I’m Henry. You need to take care while you rest in the shade.’

‘Well I sometimes forget about it all when I come down to the Trading House. I used to own and run the place. Still do I suppose, except there’s no trade anymore. Not since they came and took it all,’ he said. ‘Yes, she used to be a hive of activity she did. People would come for miles around and trade their wool and grain within her walls. Our home was built at the back of her, but now they have it all. My wife and I have to live with my sister now,’ Frank said. His sadness showed as he spoke about what he’d lost.

Henry felt this man’s sorrow. Many people had lost their homes and businesses—unless it benefited the army or you were lucky and they didn’t think there was any value in your trade.

‘Well what do they use it for now?’

‘Storage, Henry. Storage for their weapons.’

‘Really, that’s interesting,’ Henry said absentmindedly. He tucked the piece of information away in case it may be of use someday. ‘Well one day, things will be different,’ Henry said as he tried to reassure Frank.

‘Do you really think so?’

‘I hope so, Frank, I really do. I must be on my way now,’ Henry said.

‘If you ever need anything, Henry,’ Frank said as he pointed to the lane way by the bakery. ‘We live down there, the house with the red door. Anytime at all you just drop by. You’ll always be welcome.’

Henry thanked Frank and told him he’d be sure to call if he ever passed that way again. He mounted his horse and called out to Frank to take care before he rode off.

When he reached the edge of the village, Henry turned and headed towards Thomas and Mary’s home. As he travelled down the road he thought about what he’d say to them, unsure how they’d react when he told them of his previous life. For the last twenty years Henry had live in seclusion and really hadn’t shared knowledge of his past with anyone. He knew he could trust them but he’d been worried any information he shared with his friends would put them in danger.

Before he knew it their house came into view. Thomas and Henry had built the little house many years ago. They’d cut down trees and collected mud to make the shingles and had fashioned the whole lot into a small log house to keep the Bartholemews dry and warm through the winter months. Henry rode up the path. Thomas was over by the wood hut splitting and stacked wood for the coming winter.

‘Morning,’ Thomas said as he watched Henry ride towards the house.

‘Morning, Thomas. Fine weather we’re having today.’ Henry dismounted his horse and tied her to a small tree near the little home.

Mary had heard Henry’s voice and she stood in the doorway and called out to welcome him. ‘Morning, Henry. I’ll make some tea,’ she said then disappeared from sight.

Thomas sauntered over. ‘Why is your horse packed?’ he asked as he pointed to Henry’s mare.

‘Well that’s why I’ve come to see you and Mary.’

Thomas frowned. He knew he wasn’t going to like what Henry was about to tell him. ‘Well out with it,’ he said.

Henry’s gaze faltered. ‘I think I might like that cup of tea first, Thomas.’

Mary appeared with a pot of hot tea, cups and a plate of thinly sliced cake. She placed them on the table under the tree and beckoned them to join her. As Mary poured them each a cup of the hot brew, she noticed Henry’s horse over by the house.

‘Henry, why’s your horse packed? Are you going somewhere?’

Henry sat down at the table and helped himself to a cup of tea. ‘Well, I’ve come to say goodbye. I leave for The Dale, to be reunited with my grandson,’ he said.

Both Thomas and Mary’s eyes widened. Henry had never mentioned any family before. ‘We’d not realised you had any family, Henry,’ Mary said.

Henry sat quietly and thought of the best way to tell them his story. ‘I’m sorry I haven’t shared my history before now. It’s something I’ve deliberately kept from you. Not from a lack of trust, only fear that the information would put you both in danger.’

‘We understand,’ Thomas said. They both knew there was more to Henry than he ever shared, but they’d felt he would confide in them in his own time.

‘Well the time has come for me to reclaim my life. I’ll tell you my story, so that you’ll understand all that I’ve done and all that I now have to do.

‘Many years ago, when I was but a young boy, my father took me to the Keep in Canistar. My lineage is Wizardry and my father had seen the magic within me. As I grew, I spent most of my young life in study. My gift lay in the art of healing and I learnt how to make tinctures and potions. My studies taught me where to find the ingredients needed and how they should be prepared. I learnt to read spells and incantations and how to use them to service the people. At the Keep we celebrated life and all things that nature provided. With my gift I treated the people of the village and helped mothers when they gave birth to their children.

‘As I visited the village often, I met a young girl named Eleanor. We became smitten with each other and eventually married. We lived at the Keep and ventured down to the village where we treated the people. In time we’d been blessed with three children. A fine son, Eric, and two daughters, Gabriella and Cynthia.

‘Eric wasn’t born with the gift, as a Wizard is, but still I tried to teach him the art of healing but it wasn’t his passion. He went to school in the village. There he found a love of numbers and he went on to become a clerk and took care of the Keep’s money and accounts.’

Henry paused as he refilled his cup of tea and helped himself to another slice of cake. ‘Eric eventually married and he and his wife Sarah were happy to live near us on the common. Our two daughters Gabriella and Cynthia also attended school in the village, but they were still young and lived at home with us.’

Mary and Thomas were amazed at how little they’d known about Henry’s life. He’d kept his life close to his heart. But they’d noticed the small things that happened when Henry was near and to learn that Henry had been a healer was no great surprise to them both. Henry had always tended to Mary when she gave birth and looked after them all when they were sick.

‘When Eleanor became a grandmother she was over the moon. Eric and Sarah had two children. The first child was a girl. Her name was Kate, and Eleanor doted on her. She was a fine child, happy as a button and by the time Kate was two Eric and Sarah had been blessed with another child. A son they named Christopher.

‘While we loved both grandchildren the same, there was something different about Christopher. He’d been born with the gift, and from the first moment I saw him I could see it in his eyes. The Hierarch at the Keep even commented on it.

‘Deep down in the depths of his eyes, you’ll know him by the shimmer which lies there inside,’
he’d said. At that moment in time Henry hadn’t known what the Hierarch had meant. He did now, of course, as he’d read the prophecy all those years ago.

Henry continued on and told of life at the Keep and how he and Christopher would venture out together to collect the items they needed to restock the Keep’s supplies. Christopher had loved the adventures with his grandfather and was always interested in the new things his grandfather showed him. Henry taught him about life, nature and how for everything there was a time and a season. These things came naturally to Christopher as he’d been born with the gift. He was too young to begin any formal lessons, but at least he understood the world around him. Henry would take his horse and cart when he ventured out with Christopher and they’d usually be gone all day. If Christopher was tired he could climb into the cart, curl up in the furs and sleep. Sometimes they went overnight and then Kate and Eleanor would come along for the adventure.

Henry told Thomas and Mary how much he’d loved his family and life at the Keep. ‘Could I have some more tea please, Mary?’

She sensed Henry needed time to compose his thoughts and poured him another cup.

Henry sat in silence, while he sipped his tea. When he was ready he continued on with his story.

Henry recounted the day the invaders had come to the Keep. He’d taken Christopher out to look for herbs and roots to restock his supplies. They’d left early that morning as they needed to travel quite far to collect the roots of the Coneflower and Goldenseal. At first light Henry had wrapped Christopher in warm furs and settled him in the back of the wagon. Eleanor had packed them enough food to last for the day, and they’d left the common and headed west. The forests of Lefarh were three hours away and they’d stop along the way to pick the wild plants which grew along the side of the road. In the shade they’d find mushrooms and toadstools and Christopher had been amazed at the strange fungus that grew on trees and fallen logs and Henry had carefully selected what he’d needed.

Further on they’d travelled through a meadow and collected thistles and nettles. Christopher loved to help his grandfather collect these things and Henry would make Christopher name the plants they picked, to broaden his education of the flora and their uses. As they collected Mullen, Henry asked Christopher why they used this particular plant. Christopher could tell him the uses for it straight away.

‘For earaches and coughs,’ he’d said, and so these little chats would go on through the process of the day. If Christopher didn’t know or couldn’t remember Henry would tell him a story about the plant and how he used them to treat people. Henry was proud of Christopher. He’d a love for life that Henry hadn’t seen in another as Christopher was truly bound to all in nature.

When they’d arrived at the edge of the forest they’d stopped and ate their lunch before they’d pulled the Coneflower from the soil and Henry had replanted the seeds, as he only needed to take the roots. When they’d collected enough they’d ventured further into the forest to collect the yellow roots of the Goldenseal.

Time moved on and the sun had begun its descent. Christopher had curled up in the furs in the back of the cart and had slept as Henry had packed away the last of the plants they’d collected and then set off for home.