Wednesday, February 20, 2019

4 Bess and the paying scholars chapter 1


In which Bess and Essex have a few ideas about sheep, and the Master decides to have a few paying scholars in to learn a bit about magic to help cover the costs of all the expansion. Can our heroes tell the sheep from the paying scholars?  how much trouble can some overstuffed young nobles be?




Chapter 1

It felt odd to be without all the older Ruby knights. They had gone under the leadership of Lord Essex to fight the invading Scots, or more probably frighten most of them into going home.  James, the Scottish king, had believed the Queen was dead, and planned to take what he thought was his birthright. 
Bess had argued with Essex.
“My lord, don’t you think a herald on a dragon should be sent to the Scottish king, to tell him that the Spanish plot to curse the Queen failed, and that she yet lives?” she said.  “I am the Queen’s herald ....”
“And art too young and too pretty to send,” said Essex.  “Yes, Frostfire would defend you, but you do not know enough to avoid being killed ere she can rescue you, if they are deprived of violating you.”
“But as a herald I would be sacred; no civilised person would lay rude hands on a herald,” she said.
He sneered.
“You are assuming that the Scots are civilised, and that they would take a woman as a herald seriously.”
“I believe that the kings of Scotland are well educated and promote education for all,” said Bess.
“So long as they are male,” said Essex.  “I appreciate your desire to help, my lady, and were it a romantic people like the Spanish, why then, for all their perfidy, I might permit it, for they would honour a herald.  But I know not the Scots, and it is not worth the risk.”  He smiled.  “I will take a senior Beryl rider, with the proper livery, and send message ahead that the Queen is displeased to have her land violated by a foreign power. He might carry message that she will permit the Scots to withdraw without penalty so long as they leave immediately.”
“Thank you, my lord; I think they should be given the chance to leave, for I wager if they believe the Queen is dead, and know not that she has named her grandson as her heir, they need to be given the truth.  And sending a dragon is a message almost in itself.”
“Aye.  And it is to be hoped that bloodshed can be averted in so doing.  Lord Percy has been sent messages via Cecil’s drakelings – Lord Salisbury’s drakelings, I should say.  Alas that the paying students have not yet been at the school to receive drakelings of their own, to disperse far and wide, or this might have been averted ere James crossed the Humber. I understand why Master Van Huys limited the number of drakelings and gave them only to courtiers under the eye of those who knew how to care for them, but methinks wider distribution of them will be useful.”
“I am glad Salisbury has been in contact with the Wizard Earl.  I hope he will visit the school; we may have much to teach each other.”
Essex laughed.
“His soubriquet is because he dabbles in alchemy. I wager that with true spellcraft added, most of the pupils here, even the younglings, would surpass him.  There is a difference between one who learns for himself, and those taught intensively, in any subject.  Master Kettlewell has told me how he had to learn alongside the questions of his first pupils and how he enjoys watching you and your friends make discoveries which he may add to the curriculum.”
“Not all the experiments are successful, however; transmutation purely by rune work was a failure,” said Bess. “It requires the addition of magic intent and pushing the change.”
“But now he may teach that it is a technique which does not work,” said Essex.  “Now, concentrate on your school work, and on your duties in finding candidates for the school, and let me worry about the war.  I have no doubt that all the dragons will gossip with your Frostfire in any case.”
Bess laughed, ruefully.
“She is as nosy as I am,” she admitted.

Bess felt much alone in the school. 
Avice had gone home for the holiday with Tangwystl, flying on Tanllwyth, who had been given permission to carry one small passenger by Master Van Huys.   Tangwystl had promised the little girl that she would stay with her, for a while at least and, too, make sure that Avice was allowed to return.  They would bring Diccon’s next sister as well, Emily, who would be old enough.  Bess had no great faith in Lady de Bercy’s understanding or intellect, but at least Lord de Bercy was of sensible disposition, and saw the advantages in having all his younger children as draxiers. 
Diccon, Audrey and Loys were still in school with their young dragons, but slept in their legrs down in the big quarry which was a Legr for all the dragons.  They still had much to do for their young dragons. So did young Robert, or Prince Henry as he should be known.  Elixabete was spending time helping him out, and Joan Bray had gone home with her brother, Dr. Roger Bray.  Jane Edmonton was no very good company in Amethyst House, and Bess did not like to impose too much on the good nature of Rafe Sackwild, her Head of House.  Especially as she was beginning to acknowledge that her friends’ good natured teasing might have a good basis, for she was beginning to recognise in herself a partiality for him.  It would be unfair to impose a youth’s infatuation on him.
Bess sought Jane out.  She disliked the girl, but it seemed a shame for her to be stuck in school every holiday.
“Jane, if the Master permits it, would you like a ride home, and to be collected at the end of the holiday?”
Jane managed to bite off an ill-natured comment about Bess flaunting that she was Bonded.
“Why do you offer this?” she asked.  “Do you mean to leave me there so I do not return?”
“Certainly not!”  Bess was shocked.  “I would not do anything so mean and underhanded.”
“No, I suppose you wouldn’t,” said Jane, wondering how great the temptation would be if their positions were reversed. “I would like it very much.  It is good to be able to write to my parents now we are permitted to send drakelings, but it would be nice to visit them.  I have only one more year of schooling, and one more chance of Bonding, and if I am so fortunate as to Bond, it would be another year ere I might return.”
“Indeed, so thought I,” said Bess. “It is not easy for those who are far from their homes.”
“Though I suppose no worse than for those children of nobles, sent as pages as young as seven years old, who must grow up in another family which is not their own,” said Jane. “I ... do not know what I will do if I do not Bond.”
“You are an adequate mage, you might become page to a draxier whose spellcraft is wanting; or return to your native town, and use your skills as an apothecary and healer, as well as being part of Lord Salisbury’s network of drakeling-owning messengers,” said Bess.  “His dream is that there will one day be enough that no drakeling need fly for more than an hour to the next message post, to pass on written messages.”
“It is a good idea,” admitted Jane, swallowing her jealousy that Bess, a jumped-up playwright’s daughter, chatted idly with lords and knights, and even the Queen, and had Bonded in her first year to a unique opal dragon. 
“Well, I will go and ask the Master,” said Bess.

Master Van Huys was receptive.
“Wear your chain of the order of the garter as well as your draxier chain to impress Master Edmonton,” he said.  “If he offers you hospitality, take it; you might look for other candidates to the school whilst you are in Lavenham.  I adjure you to rest Frostfire on the way, for it is as far to the east of London as we are to the West, save that you might go north of London to reach it. You might go to St Albans and stop for a noonday meal, for I wager Mistress Edmonton will want to send a drakeling ahead to announce her arrival, meaning that you will start out tomorrow morning.”
Bess frowned.
“A patron of my father lived in St Albans, but he was poisoned, I believe,” she said. “I have heard talk of it, but I do not recall any details.”
“A shame not to have a familial contact, but of no matter,” said Van Huys.  He took out a hand-written book in his own meticulous writing.  “St Albans ... the prominent family is the Robotham family, but I would suggest that you seek out an inn, in which to eat.  The presence of Frostfire should deter any who would treat females with disrespect.”
“Lord Essex did not think she would be enough for me to hold mine own as a herald to the Scots,” Bess found a touch of resentment in her voice.
“He was correct, and I should not have permitted you to go, even if he had done so,” said the Master, sharply.  “An inn and ordinary where you may eat is a far cry from being in the midst of an invading army.  You have been given much privilege in your short life because of your skills and your early Bonding.  However, you are still barely more than a child, for you will not turn fifteen for another two months.  Be happy with what you have done and do not hanker after more.”
“Yes, Master.  I am sorry, Master,” said Bess. She blinked hard on tears at the rebuke, which she recognised as justified.  “Mistress Edmonton is correct to call me meddlesome, perchance.”
“Aye, that, and stubborn,” said the Master. “But art a good girl on the whole, and I hold thee in much affection. And do not think I do not know how much of a favour you do to Mistress Edmonton, considering her unfortunate attitude.”
“It won’t stop her blaming me for everything that goes wrong in her life, but at least I can console myself that I have gone the extra mile for her,” said Bess.


Jane was glad to send off her drakeling to her parents to warn them of her impending arrival.  Drakelings were unconcerned about what sex of human they bonded to, and Jane was not happy to have her little male reporting his feelings to her as a number of female drakelings were ready to mate.  Unlike dragons, the female drakelings would sometimes choose more than one mate, like cats, and might produce eggs from a number of different fathers.  It kept the numbers of drakelings up, which was good, since it meant that more people might be gifted with the chance to bond with the useful little creatures. However, Jane found it disturbing.
Goldie, as she had unimaginatively named him, was happy to go off on errands, he had already managed to impress one female with his displays of aerobatics.  And he would not be sorry to remain where he was sent, and not have a long flight home. Jane had written feeding instructions for him in her letter, so he would not go hungry.
“Jane, the Master wants me to scout for potential scholars while I am taking you home.  He has asked me to wear my chain of the garter and be dressed accordingly.  I need you to know this is the Master’s instruction and not an attempt on my part to impress your parents.” Bess looked Jane firmly in the eye.
Jane flushed.  She would have assumed that Bess was flaunting her status.  And yet her father always said that one had to flaunt one’s status or nobody would know what you were worth.
“My father will respect you the more for not hiding your status,” she said. “I understand.  You represent the school.”
Bess nodded, glad that Jane was not going to make difficulties.
Perhaps the girl was ready to grow out of her silliness, and a visit to her parents might clear up any misunderstandings she had of how they intended her to behave.  Of course if her parents were silly, it might reinforce Jane’s own attitude and make her worse.  But that was a risk which had to be taken.  Bess hoped that Jane would either see her foolishness for what it was, or want to stay at home and ask not to come back. 

Jane was nervous of mounting Frostfire.
“Will I hurt her?” she asked.
“No, they are soft to touch but very resilient,” said Bess. “Have you not been dragonback before?”
“No,” said Jane, shortly.
“Oh, I will give particular care to showing you the straps and making sure you feel safe, then,” said Bess.  “It’s wonderful; you’ll love it.”
Jane found the takeoff terrifying, though she would have died before she admitted it.  When Bess directed her to look down, to see the school from above, only by pressing a hand to her mouth did Jane prevent herself from losing her breakfast.  But it was astounding, as well as frightening, and she made herself look, whilst clinging with a death-grip to Bess.
She was quite stiff when they started descending a couple of hours later.
“St Albans’,” called back Bess.  “We rest here and we can eat as well.  Flying four hours without pause is pretty tiring for Frostfire as well as for us.  I will ask mine host to procure a sheep for her, and we will have a room to rest in for a while.”
Mine host was all over a noble draxier like smallpox.  He kept calling Bess ‘my lord’ and Jane ‘my lady’, and Bess did not bother to contradict him.  Her long hair was plaited up under her cap, and her growing feminine curves confined in warm clothing.  It mattered little to her so long as they might be made comfortable.
The landlord ran to do their bidding, and showed them to a private room.  There were cushions enough, and Bess threw herself down in them, indicating the bed to Jane.  Jane was nothing loath.
Frostfire was meanwhile creating a stir of her own.  A young sheep was being dragged towards her, followed by a sobbing child.
“Please don’t give my pet lamb to the dragon!” she cried.
Frostfire sat up and advanced her head.
“What is this?  You would kill a child’s pet to feed me?  Is St Albans’ so poor a town that the only beast you can find is a pet?” her mental voice roared so loudly to all present, that some covered their ears and fell to their knees. “You may bring me a side of beef from the butcher’s shop and you will not harm this young sheep.  Ever! I will know!” she added, mendaciously.
A side of beef was hastily procured, and the little girl hugged her sheep and then hugged Frostfire’s front foot.
“Thank you, kind dragon!” she said. “Pa said Dolly was mine if I could rear her, and I have!  And I can shear her for her wool and sell it, and milk her and make cheese, and she knows me and follows me.”
How old are you, child?” asked Frostfire.
I am nine, noble dragon,” said the child.
“In two years, I, Frostfire, will collect you, and we will bring a sling for your sheep so she can ride, and you will come to school.  Now mind you study your letters well at the dame school!” Frostfire adjured.
“I will, Frostfire,” said the child, seriously.
Frostfire decided that she would tell Bess about it later.  Her rider was sleeping before eating, and would not appreciate being disturbed.  It was not as natural an element for humans, and concentrating on the map to see where they were was also difficult.  Humans were frail beings, thought Frostfire.  But she was, herself, glad to rest her wings for a while. 
She wondered what Jane Edmonton’s parents were like, and whether they were as silly as Jane, or whether Jane had got the wrong idea.  They would find out a lot.