Maggie Furey - Aurian

Aurian was mortified. She couldn’t believe that Forral had spanked her. He never hit her! He was supposed to be her friend! Slowly it began to dawn on her that she must truly have done a bad thing. But it was so much fun! “I won’t stop doing it,” she muttered rebelliously. “I’ll show him!” But the voice of her conscience intervened. Forral never did anything without good reason, and he had always turned out to be right. Then a new thought struck her. What if he was so angry with her that he had gone away? Aurian scrambled to her feet and called for her pony, suddenly desperate to get back. “Oh, let him be there,” she prayed. “I’ll never do it again, if only he’s there.”

She couldn’t ride. It hurt too much. Aurian scrambled off the pony and swore, then clamped a guilty hand over her mouth. Gritting her teeth, she set off to walk, wiping away the occasional tear that rolled down her cheek. Darkness fell as she trudged along. Aurian knew that nothing would harm her within the crater’s bowl, for the wild creatures were her friends. Like all Magefolk, her night vision was superb, and if she was careful there was no danger of falling down one of the hidden folds in the land. There was no chance of getting lost, either. All she had to do was head for the twinkling light that burned like a beacon on top of the tower. But apart from the time she had been lost in the snow, Aurian had never been out alone at night in the vast, empty darkness of the wasteland. She felt overwhelmed and lonely, and Forral didn’t love her anymore. . . . Aurian gulped back a sob, feeling desperately sorry for herself. It wasn’t until years later that Forral told her he had never been far from her side, shadowing her until she was safely within reach of home.

When she finally crept across the bridge toward the tower, to her relief she saw a soft light glowing in the kitchen window. Forral had come back to the tower! He hadn’t left yet, then. All the same, it took Aurian a long time to pluck up enough courage to open the door. Forral sat at the table, his head in his hands. He had not heard her enter—or maybe he was ignoring her.

Aurian crept closer. “Forral, I’m sorry,” she said in a small voice. The swordsman slowly raised his head and held out his arms. Aurian, too relieved to speak, ran to him and climbed onto his lap. He hugged her hard, then she was crying and to her surprise, he was crying, too. “Don’t cry,” she begged him, puzzled. “Nobody spanked you,” she added, with a touch of indignation.

Forral’s mouth twitched in a smile. “Oh, child,” he said. “Don’t you know how much it hurt me to punish you like that?”

For the first time, Forral told her exactly what had happened to her father—how Geraint had been destroyed by his own Fire-magic. By the time he had finished, Aurian was trembling. “I didn’t know,” she gasped.

“I should have told you sooner,” Forral said, “but I’d hoped to spare you until you were older. Now do you see why I was angry? It was because you frightened me, love. What if you accidentally did the same thing? I’ll do anything to stop you, even if it does mean hurting you. I love you too much to lose you the way your father was lost.”

“But I can’t help it,” Aurian protested. “Really and truly I can’t! It’s inside me, and if I have nothing to do, it just sort of —pops out. What shall I do, Forral?” she wailed, truly frightened now.

“Don’t worry, love, we’ll think q£ something,” Forral comforted her. He held her in silence for a while, his brow furrowed with thought. Aurian found herself growing more and more tired, but was reluctant to leave the comfort of his arms for her bed. “Forral, will you tell me a story?” she asked sleepily. “Tell me the one about the world’s greatest swordsman. It’s my favorite.”

“That’s it!” Forral shot bolt upright, almost spilling her from his lap. “Aurian, how would you like to become the world’s most famous swordswoman?”

Aurian’s face lit up with incredulous delight. “Could I?” she asked, awed.

“I don’t see why not. I’ll teach you—but I warn you, it’ll be very hard work. You won’t get to be the greatest swordswoman by messing about. When I started to learn I was just about battered to bits, and I was so sore and tired at the end of every day that I could hardly crawl into bed. If you want me to teach you, you’ll have to endure all that—and it’ll be too late then to change your mind. But at least you won’t have a single spare minute of the day to get yourself into trouble. What do you say?”

Aurian thought about it. It didn’t sound like fun the way he described it, but on the other hand she was sore and tired right now—and she never wanted to go through another day like this one. If it would keep her out of that kind of trouble, she was all for it. The heroes from Forral’s stories marched through her memory, firing her imagination. “Yes,” she cried, suddenly filled with determination. “I’ll do it!”

That was the beginning of Aurian’s training. The very next day, Forral made them two wooden practice swords, and they found a secluded spot for their lessons, well away from the tower. When Eilin returned, Forral swore Aurian to secrecy. “I’m sure your mother wouldn’t approve of this, and we don’t want to have to explain to her why we started doing it,” he warned her. Aurian agreed wholeheartedly.

At first it was terrible. Forral made no allowance for her lack of size and strength, and she soon learned that she would have to become very good in a very short time if she wanted to avoid a bludgeoning. ^J’ll show him,” Aurian said through gritted teeth, as she sweated and puffed. At first it was all she could do to dodge and turn his blows, without thinking about attacking. Each night she would go to her bed aching and bruised all over, and the first valuable lesson she learned was how to endure. Forral also taught her other things—the exercises to stay supple and build muscle, and exercises of breathing and meditation to calm and sharpen the mind for battle. Aurian had no idea then how lucky she was. Forral, though he was too modest to admit it, was the best. Under his tutelage she eventually learned the Is of the Warrior—the trancelike state in which all senses combined to become something far greater than the sum of their parts. The Is created a single sense that became an extension of the living sword—that was the sword—so that by the time the mind worked out the next move, the blade was already there.

Aurian began to love it. She lived for her lessons, going out with Forral in summer and winter alike. She suffered and slogged and sweated and endured, and by the time she was twelve she had the skill to take on an average swordsman twice her age and size—and win. She was growing like a weed, and that helped. But when her breasts began to grow she was appalled. They kept getting in the way. When she complained about it to Forral he blushed, but made her a tight-fitting leather vest such as female warriors favored. It laced tightly up the front and kept the ridiculous things in check very effectively.

A few weeks before her thirteenth birthday, Forral went away on a mysterious errand of his own. Aurian pined, missing him keenly. In his absence the temptation to take up her tricks with the fireballs surfaced strongly, but she was determined to keep her promise to the swordsman. Instead, she asked her mother to teach her more about Earth-magic.

“Ah, now that Forral is away, you suddenly have time to spend with your mother,” Eilin complained, but she was smiling. Forral’s presence had made a tremendous difference to her, and mother and daughter were getting along much better these days. Over those few weeks, Aurian found herself enjoying Eilin’s company. As well as magic, the Mage took the opportunity to teach her daughter what would soon be happening to her maturing body, and the way thit Mages dealt with the matter. And of course Aurian worked hard at Forral’s exercises, hoping to impress him with her improvement when he returned.