Chapter 7
"You cannot possibly take all of that!"
Henry straightened from the box into which he was packing the last of his belongings for storage, and looked over at the small pile of saddlebags and packs that littered the top of his bed. He took immediate exception to Cedric's tone of voice, and when he turned to face the older boy, it was with a sneer twisting his lips.
"I'm going to be travelling for a year, remember?" he asked sarcastically. "That means winter things and summer things, and clothing for the change between seasons. Not to mention the things I'll need to keep me from getting bored."
Cedric laughed. "Bored? When do you think you'll have time to be bored? And where do you think all of this is going to go?"
"Why into the wagon, of course." Henry looked at Cedric incredulously. How could he be so daft?
"There is no wagon, Henry."
"No wagon? How am I supposed to bring all of my things?"
"That's my point! You need to go through all of this and get it down to what will fit inside two saddlebags," Cedric told him. "That's all the mules can carry."
"Mules can carry more than that," Henry pointed out stubbornly. "If there's more than one mule, they can certainly carry all of my things."
Cedric shook his head, and Henry could tell by the look on his face that the older journeyman was becoming increasingly frustrated. That amused the prince immensely.
"One of the mules will carry the camping supplies," Cedric explained tersely, "and the other will carry food. Unless you want to sleep under the stars for a year and or go hungry, you will pack what you're taking with you into two bags, or I will do it for you."
"What if I do want to sleep under the stars?" Henry demanded. "Or what if I want to sleep on comfortable beds and eat food prepared by people who know what they're doing? I want to take all of the things that I've selected."
"Tough!" Cedric had apparently reached his breaking point, and he strode toward the bed. Throwing open one of the bags, he began to remove the contents, throwing clothing and books and whatnot onto the mattress. "You don't get to decide how this year is going to progress; you get to do what you are told!"
"Stop that!"
Henry rushed over to his belongings and tried to start shoving them back into the bags as quickly as Cedric emptied them. In short order, the boys were practically tearing things out of each other’s hands, and Cedric pushed Henry down to sit on the bed and stepped away before things really got out of hand.
"Look," Cedric started after a few deep breaths to calm himself, "the journeyman walkabout is about learning ways to use your magical gifts to help others. You travel from village to city to remote communities, and you help people with whatever problems they are having, to the best of your ability. As prince, this year will be even more important for you than for most, because you will really get to know the citizens of your kingdom."
"I don't see what this has to do with not being able to bring my things with me," Henry pointed out, crossing his arms in front of him.
Cedric sighed again. "By the end of the day, you will barely be able to set up the tent and shovel food into your mouth before you fall asleep. Between all of the walking, the labour and the magic use, you'll barely be able to keep your eyes open most nights, so you won't need the books and you certainly won't need the trinkets you've got shoved in those bags right now."
"Walking? I thought you said there were mules."
"There are mules, but they carry gear, not people. It's called a walkabout for a reason, Henry."
"No horses either?" Henry asked, knowing that he sounded a little desperate, but not caring. Cedric shook his head, and the prince took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Then he stood and started to empty his bags onto the bed, while Cedric fetched another box to store what he wasn't going to be able to take with him.
By the end of the packing ordeal, Henry had managed to whittle his belongings down to the requisite two saddlebags and a backpack that he promised to carry himself. Cedric also allowed him to bring a bow and quiver of arrows, and a long knife, commenting that the roads were not always safe and that the bow could help add meat to his dinners if he was a good shot. Henry's short sword was left behind after Cedric forced the prince to admit that he hadn't practiced with the weapon in many months.
"So now what?" Henry asked as the last of the buckles were fastened and the last of the boxes were closed and piled neatly to be taken to Henry's new room in the journeyman wing.
"Now you bathe and get ready for the promotion ceremony," Cedric told him with a smile. "I will come and collect you just before the ceremony, we'll be leaving immediately afterward."
"What? What do you mean, immediately? And what do you mean, we?"
"I am going to be your mentor for your walkabout," Cedric revealed, his voice carefully neutral so that Henry couldn't decide if the older boy was pleased with the fact or not. "And we leave immediately because that is how it works."
"What makes you qualified to be my mentor?" the prince asked, his tone harsh. Henry most certainly was not pleased by this turn of events, and he suspected that Cedric had waited so long to tell him because he'd known that this would be the prince's reaction.
"I am a journeyman in my final year," Cedric pointed out, "and I have been mentoring you for three months now. I am sixteen, and therefore considered an adult and perfectly capable of travelling by myself or with you, and I am an Earth mage, as you are, and therefore know all of the spells that you are expected to learn not only in this next year, but in your next five years. Is that good enough for you?"
When Henry didn't immediately reply, Cedric picked up the outfit that had been left for Henry to change into and then threw it in the prince's direction. "Get ready and I'll be back for you soon."
Henry remained in his room for a little while after his mentor left, though he couldn't tell if it was because staying there was contrary to what Cedric wanted or not. He knew that he'd had enough of the other boy telling him what to do these past three months, and he didn't relish the idea of having to spend the next year listening to him. Of course, he pointed out to himself as he made his way down the hallway toward the bathing room, I'm a journeyman now too, so that makes us equals. Sort of.
When Cedric came for him a short while later, Henry was ready and waiting. Someone had removed his pair of bags and his pack and bow while he'd bathed, and the prince assumed that his things would be waiting for him with the mules Cedric had mentioned, but he didn't bother asking his supposed mentor if that was true or not. Henry had resolved, while he'd bathed, to rely on Cedric as little as possible, since he knew that the other journeyman didn't approve of Henry anyway. Henry had also determined that he would show Cedric that he'd been wrong. Surely with a year to spend together, he'd be able to prove that he was not only worthy of his new rank, but that he was, in fact, the prophesied saviour of this kingdom.
Henry was surprised by the transformation the dining room had undertaken as part of the preparations for this ceremony. The long tables were moved to the side of the room and were covered with intricately embroidered clothes as fine as any that he'd ever seen in the palace. They were also laden with food and drink that he assumed were for afterward. The other promotion ceremonies he'd attended while studying here had not involved any sort of meal or even a snack.
The benches had been lined up to provide seating for the various students currently in the building, and his new and former peers were sitting patiently, everyone facing away from the door where he and Cedric paused. On the other side of the aisle that had been left unobstructed were chairs, and here sat the various master mages and his parents. Aside from occasional visits home for holidays, Henry hadn't seen the king and queen very much in the past five years, and he wondered suddenly if they were pleased with him before shaking his head to dispel thoughts of their potential disappointment. He'd succeeded in advancing to the next rank, after all, so what
could there be for them to be unhappy about?
Directly ahead of him was Master Rylan, and the man stood behind a table covered in a cloth that Henry had seen before. This cloth was pieced together from five different colours of fabric, each colour representing one of the elements of magic, and laying in the centre of the cloth was his staff. Seeing it now made Henry realize that he hadn't seen it all morning, and he wondered at this. Normally his staff, like those of all the mages, was within easy reach, since without it they were essentially powerless and were able to cast only the most basic of spells. He shifted uncomfortably at the sudden feeling of vulnerability he had with the focus for his power so far away, and the small movement drew his master's attention.
"Excellent," Rylan intoned, bringing immediate silence to the quiet conversations that had been happening. "Our guest of honour has arrived. Come forward, Henry."
He did as he was directed, walking slowly up the aisle toward his master and his staff. Henry could feel everyone's eyes boring into him, and he struggled not to fidget and not to turn. He most especially didn't want to show his parents that he was anything less than confident, which he most certainly was not.
"When an apprentice has passed his or her journeyman's test, as the prince has, there is one final step before the new rank can be fully bestowed upon that apprentice," Rylan informed the gathered onlookers. He picked up Henry's staff and held it aloft.
"As an apprentice mage learns his or her spells, the symbols that represent those spells are engraved upon the apprentice's staff. This signifies the mage's connection to the spells, and as the years progress, the staff becomes quite decorated. In order to progress further, there must be more room for new symbols to be carved."
Placing the staff back on the cloth in front of him, Rylan closed his eyes and held his hands over the short piece of wood. As the master mage began to chant, Henry held his breath, frightened that the spell wouldn't work, that it would show everyone that he was truly an apprentice and that was all he would ever be.
As Rylan's chant gained in volume, Henry could feel a tugging from the middle of his chest. The emerald encased in wooden tendrils at the end of his staff seemed to catch the light in the room of its own accord, and the prince realized that Rylan was trying to draw the energy for the spell from him, using his staff as a focus. Henry hadn't realized that such a thing was possible, though it made sense now. The staff was part of Henry, part of Henry's magic, and the changes being forced on it would likely affect Henry too. The tugging sensation transmuted into a painful draining feeling, and he bit back a gasp.
The staff twitched on the cloth, and in front of Henry's disbelieving eyes, the wood began to grow and lengthen. The more the wooden staff changed, the more painful the energy drain became, and Henry locked his knees to prevent himself from collapsing right there in front of everyone. He knew that to show weakness would mean never hearing the end of it; his parents expected him to be perfect in all things, and Cedric was always looking for proof that Henry wasn't the prodigy everyone else thought he was.
By the time Rylan brought his spell to a close, the sound of the chant fading into the rafters of the room, Henry was shaking and sweating in reaction to the energy drain. But he was still on his feet, and as he picked up his staff, the wood now waist-high and the perfect length to use as a walking stick, he turned triumphantly to face his audience as his master proclaimed him officially a journeyman mage. There was polite applause, and then the guests rose from their seats and made their way toward the refreshments, leaving Henry alone at the head of the room to spend a few moments recovering his strength.
"That was quite a show, son," came his father's voice, long before Henry felt truly recovered.
"It wasn't a show," Henry stated, looking up to see his parents approaching. "It was a ceremony."
Henry noted, in a distracted sort of way, that despite the length of time that had passed since his last visit home, his parents were exactly as he remembered them. The king, Reginald, was a tall and imposing man. His body was well-muscled, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist, and it was obvious to anyone who looked that the king took care of himself. He had light brown hair and blue eyes, and Henry took his looks mostly from his father. The queen, Cynthia, was as tall as her husband but she was very thin and lean, without the curves that many found appealing on a woman's body. Her hair was a very light shade of brown, nearly blond, and her eyes were a very dark shade of blue. Those eyes glittered now, and Henry cringed inwardly.
"So that's it?" the queen asked. "You're a journeyman now?"
"Yes, Mother, I'm a journeyman."
"And what does that mean, exactly? How will that help this kingdom?"
Henry fought back an exasperated sigh, knowing that he should have expected this line of questioning. One of the reasons he'd taken to avoiding visits home were because of the emphasis his parents placed on what he could do as opposed to how he was doing.
"Well, your Majesties, the prince is now a step closer to becoming a master mage, and while he ventures through the kingdom on his first journeyman walkabout, it is his very goal to help the kingdom and its citizens with his magic. He will spend the next year helping."
Henry turned his gaze slightly to see that Cedric had come up beside them and he was absurdly grateful that the older journeyman had been the one to provide the answer. His parents were far more likely to believe someone other than him.
"Venture through the kingdom? What do you mean by that?" the king wanted to know.
"Every journeyman begins and ends his or her five years of study at this rank with a year-long journey through the kingdom. As many mages don't take the risk to become master mages, this is a time to make connections and see what their magic can really do, giving them ideas for how they may live their lives in the service of others when their schooling is complete."
Henry was impressed with the way Cedric rattled this information off, and he looked to see how his parents were taking the explanation.
"He is going to wander the kingdom alone for a year?" Cynthia asked, her eyes widening in horror at the thought.
"No, your Majesty," Cedric was quick to reassure her. "The prince will be in the company of his mentor, who is a final-year journeyman or a master mage."
The prince in question noted that Cedric did not volunteer the information that he was that mentor, and wondered why but didn't get a chance to say anything. Cynthia was shaking her head in denial and calling for Rylan.
"I don't like this," she told the master mage when he approached. "I don't like the sound of this walkabout one bit." Reginald nodded his agreement, but said nothing.
"It is the way it has always been done," Rylan explained. "The journeyman mages journey. Real experience is second to nothing else, and Henry will certainly learn more out in the world than stuck here."
"But what if something happens to him?" the queen demanded. "He is heir to the throne, and he could be in danger for the entire time he's out there. He's just a child!"
Henry bristled at the reference and took a step forward to interject, but Cedric stopped him with a hand on his shoulder and a shake of his head. The prince turned his attention back to the adults and their conversation.
"I can assure you that he will be quite all right," Rylan was saying in a soothing voice. "His mentor is exceptionally skilled, both with magic and with more mundane weapons, and they will never be more than a day or two from a settlement. It is early summer, perfect weather for travelling, and by the time winter arrives, they will have found themselves somewhere to spend the colder months."
When neither monarch moved to say anything, the master mage continued.
"Even though it is called a walkabout, the journeymen do not spend every day travelling. Depending on the situations they find, and the solutions they can devise for those situations, it is not uncommon for the mages to spend days, if not weeks, in a given location before moving on. It is also exceptio
nally rare for our journeymen mages to run into trouble while on walkabout, as there are few people who want to be on the receiving end of a well-cast spell."
As Rylan continued to reassure his parents that this undertaking was not only a normal procedure, but a necessary one if Henry was to advance to the rank of master mage, the prince took the opportunity to mouth a silent thank you to Cedric. And as their master finally managed to get grudging acceptance for the journey from the king and queen, Cedric was quick to whisk Henry away from the dining room before they could change their minds. Before he knew it, the newest journeyman mage had a mule's reins in his hand, a pack on his back, and his newly grown walking stick in hand as he left the building he'd spent the last five years of his life in. Henry didn't look back.