I'm baaaack! Bess and the succession chapter 1

Chapter 1

“Master,” said Bess, as Master Van Huys drew out his warding plan on a blackboard in the great hall, “I think we have a problem.”

There had been an attack shortly before on the School of Wyrm Lore and Draxery, which showed flaws in the defences, and the plan was to fill those deficiencies.

“Tell me your thoughts, Mistress Marlowe,” said Van Huys. “I do not claim to be omniscient; indeed as a sailor learning to be both a teacher and a war leader against those who will attack children, I feel sometimes out of my depth.”

“Master Coxe says any decision is better than no decision,” said Bess, absently, quoting the teacher of  Arts of War.  “The problem is  the church.  Its churchyard marches with our grounds, and there is a gateway through the wall into the churchyard, for the scholars to attend.  And the folk of Haseldene Village use the church as well of course, as it is their church.”

“And this is a problem in what respect?” asked Van Huys. “Ah, I think I understand, but tell me what problem you see anyway, and I will see if it agrees with what sprang to my mind when you drew attention to it.”

“It is a way into the grounds,” said Bess.  “Passage must be granted to the scholars to go to church, and for the rector to visit the school, but no others, however, the wards cannot be too aggressive or we will lose the support of the village folk. And it is better for us to mingle with them, so they may see as ordinary children, rather than to have our own chapel and rector.”

“Your thoughts are cogent,” said Van Huys. “I will speak to the rector.  Perchance we might put a lower level of ward about the churchyard itself, which will stick to the ground anyone who has hostile intent within the church or churchyard.  It will undoubtedly also catch petty criminals and wife-beaters, but that is not a disadvantage. It should then restrain any of ill intent before getting to the other wards.  And entering the grounds of the school without being invited could be included in ill intent.”

“Yes, Master; a frightening thing for a villager, but no real danger to him,” said Bess.

“You are a good girl to think of such things,” said the Master. “This is why I am sending you and Frostfire home for two weeks.  I want you to travel around the country near Stratford and see if there are any young people suitable to come to the school.  And if they are older than eleven or twelve, but love dragons, then they might come and welcome.”

“I would be delighted, sir, but why me?” asked Bess.

“Partly it is because of Frostfire,” said the Master.  “She is not white, but many people will see her as predominantly white, with those specks of colour in her being an addition.  And to most people, white is a colour of purity.  If the first dragon they encounter is, say, a Ruby dragon, how many will think of the fiery wyrm defeated by St Michael in Revelations?  Many, I trow. Moreover, Ruby Knights are chosen for their martial prowess, not their diplomacy.  And Topaz, many will think much the same even though Topaz dragons are Nurture-wyrms.  I think the black Diamond dragons would also frighten people, and to be honest, some of the sorcerers who are draxiers to the spellwyrms are a little ... erratic.   Beryl will be others I send out, and Amethyst. When people are more used to them, then Topaz draxiers can go to search.  I am looking forward to Coll’s dragon being grown enough, the empathy of a Rose Quartz dragon will be tremendously helpful.”

“Very well, Master.  After the warding is done, then?”

“Yes, indeed. And I have written to thy guardian, Master William Shakespeare, to let him know, and the school will cover the cost of feeding Frostfire, should she need to hunt.”

“Thank you, Master.” Bess was excited; and yet also had a hollow feeling inside at the thought of visiting her previous home. For she had never felt as at home there as she did now in the school!

All those capable of magic were helping with the warding.  Bess was astounded to find out that this encompassed very few of the older students. The chant was a little more complex than the one which had been held by the whole school for the basic wards, but Bess was pleased that she was able to follow its complexities in understanding of what was being done.

She asked,

“Why are not all the scholars involved?”

Mistress Carey answered her surprised query

“The original wards needed reiteration which could be undertaken by almost anyone so long as there was someone magical at each cardinal point.  This chant was more complex and we could not afford any mistake.”

“So only the most magical could do it?”

“Bess, my dear, you and your friends are exceptional.  Even Mistress Woolfstone, who is capable of some spells, to aid her alchemy if nothing else.  I’m going to have the largest class I have ever had in your third year, when electives can be chosen and classes dropped; six of you, quite half of those who came.”

“Marry! In sooth, Lil, I assumed that all would want to continue the amazing things we can do with magic and runes,” said Bess.  Mistress Carey was one of the teachers who had invited the young draxier to use her first name out of school, anticipating the girl becoming a colleague.

Lil Carey laughed.

“Why, Bess, did you not realise that those who are dropping magic are doing so because it does not work for them?”

“I did not, no,” said Bess.  “I know Lance Webber has trouble, but he is not the sharpest sword in the scabbard.”

“It is not about intelligence, though those who are not smart are also generally not good at magic,” said Mistress Carey. “It is an inborn talent, like music.  And some of you have more than others.”

“Oh!” said Bess. “And Diccon is good at seeing how to craft spells, especially transmogrifications, and Tannie is good at healing and musical patterns to make magic.  I am glad we are a talented year though.”

“Yes, and Tangwystl used some most ingenious runework to aid Amice Kettlewell to birth her baby,” said Mistress Carey. “It will help Mistress Percy too, when that poor young woman births.”

Bess shuddered.  Lucy Percy had been a maid of honour to the Queen, but had been controlled and impregnated by Spain’s evil magical ambassador, against whom there was not enough evidence to have him declared persona non grata.  He had used the foetus as a focus to send a curse to John Wolf, formerly Igon Lopez, who had escaped his power.  And it was the physical agents of the Necromancer of Spain, and any unwitting allies he used, against whom the school needed extra warding.  The attack by a veritable rabble of Catholics, all with, it seemed, their own agendas, had been troubling.  Only coincidence, and Diccon’s ability to see auras, had prevented a possible blood bath of the scholars. Instead it had been the invaders who had been killed, most of them burned in dragon fire.  Bess shuddered. She was still having nightmares, though Frostfire usually took over her thoughts to quiet them. Fortunately she would be too busy in the coming year to have much spare time; Bess had elected to take nine classes, two of which would be fitted in by John Wolfe, teaching her Spanish, and Rafe Sackwild, teaching her advanced logic.  As the logic tended to go with work on the runic protective maze, this meant he had a larger class than those he had found intimidating, now that some of the younger ones joined in, but as he had not noticed, Bess had not mentioned it.

Diccon and Aloysius Cobb were also tackling nine subjects, the logic being the advanced class with Bess.  Bess was looking forward to embarking on the subject of Geography, and allying it with navigation in Dr. Bray’s class.  She was not particularly looking forward to French and Italian, but if she was to be any kind of ambassador, languages were what she needed. This started another train of thought about the teachers of the electives.  She frowned, and went to see Matt Tyler, the senior draxier of Amethyst House.

“Matt,” said Bess, “We were assigned Master Parnell as Head of Amethyst House when he Bonded.  I can’t put a face to the man.  Does he only take notice of you older ones?”

Matt frowned.

“To be honest, I can’t say I’ve spoken to him more than once or twice.  Lawrie knows him better, as he took Literature. Master Stephens, I should say,” added Matt.

“No little kids around here; some of the dominies are happy to have their given names used out of school, once anyone is a draxier anyway,” said Bess.  “So he hasn’t taken much notice of the older ones; he certainly hasn’t helped out the younger ones.  What are you going to do about it?”

“Go to the Master, I suppose,” said Matt. “Honestly, as Amethyst House goes, I’ve had more help from Master Sackwild, not that I ever thought I would say so!  He has heard my Latin for me, because I struggle, and it is the basis of casting spells. And I know he works with you and your assorted band of friends.”

“Yes, he’ll be teaching an advanced class of Spellcrafting in the fledgeling university,” said Bess. “He and Diccon evolved it between them.”

“Now that sounds interesting,” Matt brightened.  “I will ask that Master Parnell be replaced. I don’t think he even likes being a House Head.”

“How can he not like what he hath not even managed to do?” said Bess, scathingly.

“I need a diplomatic way to put it to the Master,” said Matt.

“I usually just say what I think.”

“Yes, but everyone knows that’s only you and it is not meant as colossal impudence,” said Matt. “I, however, will approach the Master with tact.  I’faith, I am amazed you have come to me for advice not gone straight to the Master.”

“I was not sure whether Parnell merely did not like younger scholars, not being used to them.”

“Methinks he wants to debate literature and no more,” said Matt. “I will return.”

It was not long before Matt sought Bess.

“The Master will speak to Master Parnell,” he said.  “I gave him my word that so far as I know he has never spoken to you, Tannie, Diccon or Lixie.  I cannot say if Jane speaks to him, but she does study Literature.  And I said I thought you younger ones would be happy enough with Master Sackwild, as Lawrie is a little young.”

“It is hard even to think of him as Master Stephens,” admitted Bess. “I am glad I am having lessons with Master Sackwild. Though I imagine scholars from other houses find it easier to treat Lawrence with the proper distance.”

“Yes, and that is why he could not be Head of House,” said Matt. “I would not be comfortable, and I am older than he is.  And only a scholar on my own time while a university is explored.  And I hear that you, too, are going out to search for scholars?”

“Yes, the Master thinks people will look on Frostfire as harmless.”

“It makes sense. And Hazedancer is not threatening to look on.  Why are you laughing?”

“He may not be as big as Skyshadow, but Matt! To most people, most dragons are threatening.  Those damned souls who attacked us found Frostfire threatening enough, and Hazedancer has a few years’ growth more than she does.”

“She should catch up by the time you leave school though,” said Matt.”

“I’m not worrying about it; I have no idea how Opal dragons grow, so I will not be unduly concerned,” said Bess. “There is no material difference in the size of the different colours save for ancient lorewyrms like Skyshadow so you are probably right.”

“Diw!  The Master has you running about as though you were an adult, look you” said Bess’s Welsh friend, Tangwystl, as she helped Bess to pack.

“My fault for Bonding with a rare dragon like Frostfire, I suppose!” laughed Bess.  “And attracting the attention of the Queen too, so that she asked me to bring her secret grandson to the school.”

“Robert is a good lad,” said Tangwystl.  “No stuck-up little aristocrat with more snot than sense like some of them.”

“I like him too,” said Bess.  “And he’s in your care while I am away, as Diccon went home.”

“Diw! Well, if the school is burned down when you return it was because I could not control him and Lixie at their pranks,” said Tangwystl.  Bess laughed; Prince Henry Robert, as he would be rightly known when his existence was announced, was as thick as thieves with Elixabete Wolfe, a Basque girl who had escaped from the Necromancer of Spain. She was the daughter of John Wolf, who was now the Spanish teacher.  Their pranks were harmless and funny, and Tangwystl was exaggerating for effect.

“Just think what will happen if they befriend Diccon’s little sister, Avice; he said he was hoping to persuade his parents to let her come, as a more useful way of making contacts than merely by marrying her off.”

“I’faith, methinks the world will burn,” said Tangwystl, dramatically.

Bess laughed.