Marked for Magic. Daisy BanksЧитать онлайн книгу.
Fighting a flash of panic, she glanced about to mark things to find her way back to the tower.
They walked for a little way before he pointed to the left. “There is a gnarled oak over there. Do you see it? Tell me what grows at its base.”
“Nettles, lots of them, you can use for dyeing wool.”
A flash of his smile showed. “Yes, I know the colors they can make. Very good, now look at the oak from the other direction, as if you walked back toward the tower. Study and remember it.”
Doing as he asked, she memorized the shape of the ancient oak with its huge lumps and twisted branches. When she turned back, he had stepped well ahead. She dashed to keep up.
“Do you remember?”
“Yes, I think I do.”
They walked on until he stopped. “Do you recognize this place?”
She looked about her. Here, she had waited to die last night. The tall ash she had climbed stood majestic. The memory of his arms around her gave a warm glow inside.
“Nin, do you recognize this place or not?”
“Oh, yes, I know it.”
He tilted his hat backwards. “Are you concentrating? I hope so. Otherwise, we will have a very long walk back.”
She nodded.
“Good, now, see how the branch third from the top points south?”
She counted the branches, studied the angle. “Yes, I think I have it.”
“If you ever find yourself here, follow the direction the branch points. That way you will be heading toward my tower.”
Her stomach rumbled loudly.
“Are you hungry again, already?”
“Yes, I ate little yesterday. I had nothing at all for two days before,” she explained.
“Very well, here, you can eat this. I’d brought it as something for the wild birds, but I suppose they’ll not mind a hungry sparrow having it instead.” He handed her a chunk of bread from a cloth tucked inside the fold of his robe.
“Thank you, Thabit.” She could make out the sparkle in his eyes under the wide brim of his hat.
“Come, we go farther. You can eat while we walk. What do you see among those bushes?”
Cramming a chunk of bread in her mouth, she looked toward the direction he pointed. “There’re brambles,” she spluttered through breadcrumbs. She swallowed the rest of the bread. “That means there will be blackberries.”
“Well done. They are not ripe yet, but within a month or two the first of them will be, and you will come back to collect a supply.”
The bread she chewed as they went was days old and hardly the tastiest treat, but it filled the gap in her stomach. All the time they walked, the trees grew denser around the path. The scent of wild garlic filled the air. Shade dappled parts of the forest floor and deep shadows cast gloom over more. When they entered the cool shadows, a shiver ran over her. She glanced across to the Mage.
“There is nothing here to concern you. The wolves will be well fed and asleep at this time in the day. The only thing you should fear are the troops from the garrison, and after Friday their interest will be controlled.”
“Why? How do you know?”
“On Friday, I go to the castle. You will accompany me. The troop will see you are my servant. Therefore, you’ll be safe from any of their unwanted attentions.”
A thrill shot through her. The castle! No one she knew had ever traveled so far from the village. She finished the last bite of the bread. Didn’t his long legs ever tire?
At the base of a tall tree, he stopped. “What tree is this?”
“A beech. It’s a big one.” She glanced up at the main branches. The boughs were thick and spread wide. The tree seemed to clear a space amongst the others for itself.
“I want you to remember this beech tree. You will not go farther from the tower in this direction without me.”
He sat and took off the straw hat. His hair stuck up in dark spikes. She wanted to smooth it into place.
“You know the names of some of the trees, Sparrow?”
“I do.” A surge of pride filled her.
“I will teach you more as we go on.”
“Are we going back to the tower?”
“Not yet. Do you know how to swim?”
“Yes, a bit. I used to swim in the millpond every summer until Aunt Jen said it was unseemly since I was full grown.”
“Good, good.”
He stood, but didn’t seem to be listening as he donned the hat. She clasped the hand he offered and he yanked her to her feet.
“This way.”
She followed him through a stand of tall trees, then into a clearer section where willow and sedge edged a pool. The dark water silvered when the breeze swept over the surface. She shuddered. The water looked deep.
“Fearful again? That must stop. You can learn nothing of the world if fear controls all you do.”
She didn’t like the way he seemed to read her thoughts with such ease.
He stopped where the turf edged the water. “I will go in first. You can join me once you undress.”
“What? Take the tunic off?”
“Well, I do not normally swim clothed, Sparrow. Do you?”
“No, but…” Fire blazed in her cheeks.
He took off the hat and laughed. “I will not look at you, girl, believe me. I wish to swim, to be cool and give my body the chance to breathe. Yours will learn to breathe, too, but you must give it the opportunity. Forget what they told you in the village. Now, do as I say, close your eyes.”
Her heart beat swift for all the wrong reasons, but she covered her eyes with her hands. Though temptation to steal a glance at him beckoned, she wouldn’t dare. Oh, how Alicia would laugh at her.
The hum of insects grew louder and the breeze rustled the leaves. Soft chirrups of birdsong broke through the quietness.
Water splashed. He called, “All right. You can come in.”
She opened her eyes. His dark head cleared the water. A faint shimmer of his pale shoulders showed beneath the ripples.
“Now, you go behind the bush to undress. I will turn my back until you are in the pool.”
She untied the scarf and, when she stood behind the bush, slipped the tunic over her head. All the time she watched to see if he might peek. He didn’t, but kept his word, even when, as she tiptoed her way into the pool, she yelped as the cold water covered her rear.
“I’m in.” She shivered, neck deep, stretching her toes down to the bottom.
“Good, you swim and relax. Let your body learn from the water—allow yourself to breathe deep.”
He disappeared from the spot in four or five long stokes, cleaving the surface in neat, even movements. She watched him go before she rolled over to float on her back. The cool of the water seeped into her hair, a delicious sensation to remind her of the millpond where she had played with the others in childhood.
The dark water washed soft against her skin. She tilted her head right back listening to him splash along. When she turned onto her front, he swam strongly a distance away.
She reached out and swam for a way in the other direction. The water here seemed to support her so that she could lie on its surface like a leaf. She floated again on her back, drifted past a big