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smackenzieIn the village of Redhill, a young woman named Hazel Vine prepares a poultice and bandages under the restless eye of her teacher. The bandages are for a farmer's son who let himself get bitten by a goat, and the poultice is for the goat, which bit the farmer's son because of a sore leg. Hazel is an apprentice hedgewitch, and she loves the farmer's son, whose name is Hay and who loves her too. Someday, when he can stake out his own farm or at least take over the running of his father's farm, they will get married and have children and live happily ever after.
No, that is not where the story starts.
In the capital city, the king's city, a journeyman bookbinder named Alex assembles the pages of a dismembered book and plans out how to repair them. The master bookbinder, Master Damon, lifts his cat off the press, slides the third sewn volume of a ten-volume set of histories between the plates, and screws the top plate down tight. He will press the pages briefly before attaching the front and back covers, which his daughter is just now finishing up. Alex whistles to himself as he counts pages and makes tiny marks on the inside margins with a pencil, noting places that need repair and places that don't.
But that is not where the story starts either.
Two buildings down from the bookbinder's shop, in an upstairs apartment, a young man named Lowe sits at a table, staring dreamily out at the buildings across the street and thinking about the book of poetry he knows Alex has asked Master Damon to bind for him. The poems are several hundred years old, a classic poetry cycle describing ancient wars and feuds and the founding of the city where they live. Lowe considers himself something of a poet, although lately he has been making his money as a copyist, but as far as he knows Alex has never wanted to bind any of his poems. He doesn't mind.
But no, the story does not begin there.
Perhaps it begins earlier than this, when a girl dies in childbirth, leaving the baby to the care of her sister and her sister's husband. The couple raises the girl as if she were their own, and when she is old enough they tell her that her mother died bringing her into the world and no one knows where her father is, but the gods and the saints are looking out for her, and her aunt and uncle love her. The girl believes them, and she is happy with her life, but sometimes she wonders what things might have been like if her mother had lived, if she'd known her father, if she knew any more of her parents than the few stories her aunt is willing to tell.
And perhaps the story starts even before then, with a queen who bears three children for her king - two sons and a daughter - and then dies of an illness. The king remarries, and his second wife bears him two children - both sons, this time - but dies in childbirth, leaving the king with four heirs but no queen. He marries yet a third time, for love as well as the care of his children, and this queen produces twins, a boy and a girl, but more importantly she makes the king happy
With seven princes and princesses and uncounted royal relatives and nobles' children and assorted hangers-on, one prince manages to go missing. As the second son of the second wife, fifth in line for the throne and by no stretch anyone's favorite prince, his future career options seem to be an ambassadorship to a neighboring country, the stewardship of one of the royal family's many estates, a high position in the king's council. He might be married off to a foreign princess and sent away to another court as insurance, as part of a treaty, as a way to get him out of his father's court, his brother's court.
He doesn't want any of it. He wants to be left alone to read or to spar with the swordmaster's apprentices or to write terrible adolescent poetry or to walk around the castle in his sock feet. He doesn't want to be married off to some strange girl. He doesn't want to be sent to some other country, not as an ambassador and certainly not as some princess' new husband. He doesn't even really want to take control of an estate. He doesn't want to be a prince, and so one day he slips out and away and gets himself good and lost in the capital city.
And because it's a terrible embarrassment to have to admit you lost a prince, the royal family pulls secrecy over the whole affair but sends spies into the city and out into the countryside and even into the neighboring countries, so they can find the prince and bring him home.
But they can't find him, because he doesn't want to be found.
And in the village of Redhill, a local hedgewitch, healer, and occasional farseer named Marcus casts his bones and reads his tea leaves and hits upon a scheme to add himself to the course of history.
Yes, that is where our story will begin. With Redhill, and Marcus, and Hazel, Marcus' apprentice and the vehicle by which he intends to become famous.
Actually, no. The story begins with the dog.
words: 919
total words: 919
No, that is not where the story starts.
In the capital city, the king's city, a journeyman bookbinder named Alex assembles the pages of a dismembered book and plans out how to repair them. The master bookbinder, Master Damon, lifts his cat off the press, slides the third sewn volume of a ten-volume set of histories between the plates, and screws the top plate down tight. He will press the pages briefly before attaching the front and back covers, which his daughter is just now finishing up. Alex whistles to himself as he counts pages and makes tiny marks on the inside margins with a pencil, noting places that need repair and places that don't.
But that is not where the story starts either.
Two buildings down from the bookbinder's shop, in an upstairs apartment, a young man named Lowe sits at a table, staring dreamily out at the buildings across the street and thinking about the book of poetry he knows Alex has asked Master Damon to bind for him. The poems are several hundred years old, a classic poetry cycle describing ancient wars and feuds and the founding of the city where they live. Lowe considers himself something of a poet, although lately he has been making his money as a copyist, but as far as he knows Alex has never wanted to bind any of his poems. He doesn't mind.
But no, the story does not begin there.
Perhaps it begins earlier than this, when a girl dies in childbirth, leaving the baby to the care of her sister and her sister's husband. The couple raises the girl as if she were their own, and when she is old enough they tell her that her mother died bringing her into the world and no one knows where her father is, but the gods and the saints are looking out for her, and her aunt and uncle love her. The girl believes them, and she is happy with her life, but sometimes she wonders what things might have been like if her mother had lived, if she'd known her father, if she knew any more of her parents than the few stories her aunt is willing to tell.
And perhaps the story starts even before then, with a queen who bears three children for her king - two sons and a daughter - and then dies of an illness. The king remarries, and his second wife bears him two children - both sons, this time - but dies in childbirth, leaving the king with four heirs but no queen. He marries yet a third time, for love as well as the care of his children, and this queen produces twins, a boy and a girl, but more importantly she makes the king happy
With seven princes and princesses and uncounted royal relatives and nobles' children and assorted hangers-on, one prince manages to go missing. As the second son of the second wife, fifth in line for the throne and by no stretch anyone's favorite prince, his future career options seem to be an ambassadorship to a neighboring country, the stewardship of one of the royal family's many estates, a high position in the king's council. He might be married off to a foreign princess and sent away to another court as insurance, as part of a treaty, as a way to get him out of his father's court, his brother's court.
He doesn't want any of it. He wants to be left alone to read or to spar with the swordmaster's apprentices or to write terrible adolescent poetry or to walk around the castle in his sock feet. He doesn't want to be married off to some strange girl. He doesn't want to be sent to some other country, not as an ambassador and certainly not as some princess' new husband. He doesn't even really want to take control of an estate. He doesn't want to be a prince, and so one day he slips out and away and gets himself good and lost in the capital city.
And because it's a terrible embarrassment to have to admit you lost a prince, the royal family pulls secrecy over the whole affair but sends spies into the city and out into the countryside and even into the neighboring countries, so they can find the prince and bring him home.
But they can't find him, because he doesn't want to be found.
And in the village of Redhill, a local hedgewitch, healer, and occasional farseer named Marcus casts his bones and reads his tea leaves and hits upon a scheme to add himself to the course of history.
Yes, that is where our story will begin. With Redhill, and Marcus, and Hazel, Marcus' apprentice and the vehicle by which he intends to become famous.
Actually, no. The story begins with the dog.
words: 919
total words: 919
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Date: 2004-11-01 02:08 pm (UTC)you rock C :)
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Date: 2004-11-01 06:36 pm (UTC)