Magician Read Online Free PDF Page A

them off. Besides, she’s mostly mad at Father. She
claims the Choosing’s only an excuse for all the Craftmasters
to sit around smoking pipes, drinking ale, and swapping tales all
day. She says they already know who will choose which boy.”
    Pug said, “From what the other
women say, she’s not alone in that opinion.” Then he
grinned at Tomas. “Probably not wrong, either.”
    Tomas lost his smile. “She truly
doesn’t like it when he’s not in the kitchen to oversee
things. I think she knows this, which is why she tossed us out of the
keep for the morning, so she wouldn’t take out her temper on
us. Or at least you,” he added with a questioning smile. “I
swear you’re her favorite.”
    Pug’s grin returned and he
laughed again. “Well, I do cause less trouble.”
    With a playful punch to the arm, Tomas
said, “You mean you get caught less often.”
    Pug pulled his sling out from within
his shirt. “If we came back with a brace of partridge or quail,
she might regain some of her good temper.”
    Tomas smiled. “She might,”
he agreed, taking out his own sling. Both boys were excellent
slingers, Tomas being undoubted champion among the boys, edging Pug
by only a little. It was unlikely either could bring down a bird on
the wing, but should they find one at rest, there was a fair chance
they might hit it. Besides, it would give them something to do to
pass the hours and perhaps for a time forget the Choosing.
    With exaggerated stealth they crept
along, playing the part of hunters. Tomas led the way as they left
the footpath, heading for the watering pool they knew lay not too far
distant. It was improbable they would spot game this time of the day
unless they simply blundered across it, but if any were to be found,
it most likely would be near the pool. The woods to the northeast of
the town of Crydee were less forbidding than the great forest to the
south. Many years of harvesting trees for lumber had given the green
glades a sunlit airiness not found in the deep haunts of the southern
forest. The keep boys had often played here over the years. With
small imagination, the woods were transformed into a wondrous place,
a green world of high adventure. Some of the greatest deeds known had
taken place here. Daring escapes, dread quests, and mightily
contested battles had been witnessed by the silent trees as the boys
gave vent to their youthful dreams of coming manhood. Foul creatures,
mighty monsters, and base outlaws had all been fought and vanquished,
often accompanied by the death of a great hero, with appropriate last
words to his mourning companions, all managed with just enough time
left to return to the keep for supper.
    Tomas reached a small rise that
overlooked the pool, screened off by young beech saplings, and pulled
aside some brush so they could mount a vigil. He stopped, awed, and
softly said, “Pug, look!” Standing at the edge of the
pool was a stag, head held high as he sought the source of something
that disturbed his drinking. He was an old animal, the hair around
his muzzle nearly all white, and his head crowned by magnificent
antlers.
    Pug counted quickly. “He has
fourteen points.”
    Tomas nodded agreement. “He must
be the oldest buck in the forest.” The stag turned his
attention in the boys’ direction, flicking an ear nervously.
They froze, not wishing to frighten off such a beautiful creature.
For a long, silent minute the stag studied the rise, nostrils
flaring, then slowly lowered his head to the pool and drank.
    Tomas gripped Pug’s shoulder and
inclined his head to one side. Pug followed Tomas’s motion and
saw a figure walking silently into the clearing. He was a tall man
dressed in leather clothing, dyed forest green. Across his back hung
a longbow and at his belt a hunter’s knife. His green cloak’s
hood was thrown back, and he walked toward the stag with a steady,
even step. Tomas said, “It’s Martin.”
    Pug also recognized the Duke’s
Huntmaster. An