fell into step beside him. After a moment she asked, ‘May I have some bread too, Pug?’
Pug had run the distance between the bluffs and the keep many times before, but the Princess was unused to walking such distances, and her soft riding boots were ill suited to such an undertaking. When they came into view of the castle, she had one arm draped over Pug’s shoulder and was limping badly.
A shout went up from the gate tower, and guards came running toward them. After them came the Lady Marna, the girl’s governess, her red dress pulled up before her as she sprinted toward the Princess. Although twice the size of court ladies – and a few of the guards as well – she outdistanced them all. She was coming on like a she-bear whose cub was being attacked. Her great bosom heaved with the effort as she reached the slight girl and grasped her in a hug that threatened to engulf Carline completely. Soon the ladies of the court were gathered around the Princess, overwhelming her with questions. Before the din subsided, Lady Marna turned and fell on Pug like the sow bear she resembled. ‘How dare you allow the Princess to come to such a state! Limping in, dress all torn and dirty. I’ll see you whipped from one end of the keep to the other. Before I have done with you, you’ll wish you’d never seen the light of day.’ Backing away before the onslaught, Pug was overwhelmed by confusion, unable to get a word in. Sensing that somehow Pug was responsible for the Princess’s condition, one of the guards stepped up and seized him by the arm.
‘Leave him alone!’
Silence descended as Carline forced her way between the governess and Pug. Small fists struck at the guard as he let go of Pug and fell back with a look of astonishment on his face. ‘He saved my life! He almost got killed saving me.’ Tears were running down her face. ‘He’s done nothing wrong. And I won’t have any of you bullying him.’ The crowd closed in around them, regarding Pug with newfound respect. Hushed voices sounded from all sides, and one of the guards ran to carry the news to the castle. The Princess placed her arm around Pug’s shoulder once more and started toward the gate. The crowd parted, and the two weary travelers could see the torches and lanterns being lit on the wall.
By the time they had reached the courtyard gate, the Princess had consented to let two of her ladies help her, much to Pug’s relief. He could not have believed that such a slight girl could become such a burden. The Duke hurried out to her, having been told of Carline’s return. He embraced his daughter, then started to speak with her. Pug lost sight of them as curious, questioning onlookers surrounded him. He tried to push his way toward the magician’s tower, but the press of people held him back.
‘Is there no work to be done?’ a voice roared.
Heads turned to see Swordmaster Fannon, followed closely by Tomas. All the keep folk quickly retired, leaving Pug standing before Fannon, Tomas, and those of the Duke’s court with rank enough to ignore Fannon’s remark. Pug could see the Princess talking to her father, Lyam, Arutha, and Squire Roland. Fannon said, ‘What happened, boy?’
Pug tried to speak, but stopped when he saw the Duke and his sons approaching. Kulgan came hurrying behind the Duke, having been alerted by the general commotion in the courtyard. All bowed to the Duke when he approached, and Pug saw Carline break free of Roland’s solicitations and follow her father, to stand at Pug’s side. Lady Mama threw a besieged look heavenward, and Roland followed the girl, an open expression of surprise upon his face. When the Princess took Pug’s hand in her own, Roland’s expression changed to one of black-humored jealousy.
The Duke said, ‘My daughter has said some very remarkable things about you, boy. I would like to hear your account.’ Pug felt suddenly self-conscious and gently disengaged his hand from Carline’s. He recounted the events of the day, with Carline enthusiastically adding embellishments. Between the two of them, the Duke gained a nearly accurate account of things. When Pug finished, Lord Borric asked, ‘How is it the trolls drowned in the stream, Pug?’
Pug looked uncomfortable. ‘I cast a spell upon them, and they were unable to reach the shore,’ he said softly. He was still confused by this accomplishment and had not given much thought to it, as the Princess had pushed all other thoughts aside. He could see surprise registered on Kulgan’s face. Pug began to say something, but was interrupted by the Duke’s next remark.
‘Pug, I can’t begin to repay the service you’ve done my family. But I shall find a suitable reward for your courage.’ In a burst of enthusiasm Carline threw her arms around Pug’s neck, hugging him fiercely. Pug stood in embarrassment, looking frantically about, as if trying to communicate that this familiarity was none of his doing.
Lady Marna looked ready to faint, and the Duke pointedly coughed, motioning with his head for his daughter to retire. As she left with the Lady Marna, Kulgan and Fannon simply let their amusement show, as did Lyam and Arutha. Roland shot Pug an angry, envious look, then turned and headed off toward his own quarters. Lord Borric said to Kulgan, ‘Take this boy to his room. He looks exhausted. I’ll order food sent to him. Have him come to the great hall after tomorrow’s morning meal.’ He turned to Pug. ‘Again, I thank you.’ The Duke motioned for his sons to follow and walked away. Fannon gripped Tomas by the elbow, for the sandy-haired boy had started to speak with his friend. The old Swordmaster motioned with his head that the boy should come with him, leaving Pug in peace. Tomas nodded, though he was burning with a thousand questions.
When they had all left, Kulgan placed his arm around the boy’s shoulder. ‘Come, Pug. You’re tired, and there is much to speak of.’
Pug lay back on his pallet, the remains of his meal lying on a platter next to him. He couldn’t remember ever having been this tired before. Kulgan paced back and forth across the room. ‘It’s absolutely incredible.’ He waved a hand in the air, his red robe surging over his heavy frame like water flowing over a boulder. ‘You close your eyes, and the image of a scroll you saw weeks before appears. You incant the spell, as if you were holding the scroll in your hand before you, and the trolls fall. Absolutely incredible.’ Sitting down on the stool near the window, he continued. ‘Pug, nothing like this has ever been done before. Do you know what you’ve done?’
Pug started from the edge of a warm, soft sleep and looked at the magician. ‘Only what I said I did, Kulgan.’
‘Yes, but do you have any idea what it means?’
‘No.’
‘Neither do I.’ The magician seemed to collapse inside as his excitement left, replaced by complete uncertainty. ‘I don’t have the slightest idea what it all means. Magicians don’t toss spells off the top of their heads. Clerics can, but they have a different focus and different magic. Do you remember what I taught you about focuses, Pug?’
Pug winced, not being in the mood to recite a lesson, but forced himself to sit up. ‘Anyone who employs magic must have a focus for the power he uses. Priests have power to focus their magic through prayer; their incantations are a form of prayer. Magicians use their bodies, or devices, or books and scrolls.’
‘Correct,’ said Kulgan, ‘but you have just violated that truism.’ He took out his long pipe and absently stuffed tabac into the bowl. ‘The spell you incanted cannot use the caster’s body as a focus. It has been developed to inflict great pain upon another. It can be a very terrible weapon. But it can be cast only by reading from a scroll that it is written upon, at the time it’s cast. Why is this?’
Pug forced leaden eyelids open. ‘The scroll itself is magic.’
‘True. Some magic is intrinsic to the magician, such as taking on the shape of an animal or smelling weather. But casting spells outside the body, upon something else, needs an external focus. Trying to incant the spell you used from memory should have produced terrible pain in you, not the trolls, if it would have worked at all! That is why magicians developed scrolls, books, and other devices, to focus that sort of magic in a way that will not harm the caster. And until today, I would have sworn that no one alive could have made that spell work without the scroll in hand.’
Leaning against the windowsill, Kulgan puffed on his pipe for a moment, gazing out into space. ‘It’s as if you have discovered a