~Joiya's Childhood~
I was raised at the court of my father, Lord Justar Wolfsinger, along with my four brothers and six sisters. I was the fourth child, the second daughter. Remarkable as it may be, all eleven of my father's children survived the precarious years of infancy, growing to be strong men and women.
My father was looked upon as something of an oddity, because he believed his daughters should be trained in the arts of warfare, just as were his sons. My elder sister, Elira, was the only other of my father's children to possess more than a rudimentary skill with the arcane. She was sufficiently older than me, however, so that we did not spend much time together. Many lords in our vicinity found Father's ideas strange, and a few believed it dangerous to train daughters in the arts of war. None tried to remove him from his place of power, however, for they risked the rebellion of serfs, freeholders, tradesmen, soldiers, and even daughters and younger sons throughout the realm. Father was a benevolent and benificent lord, and none was ever turned away who came seeking his aid in any good thing. The villages were prosperous, with bountiful harvests in the fields, strong, healthy babes in the cradles of nearly every house, and thriving herds. The soldiers were the best trained in many days' walking. None could deny that while Father's ways were unorthodox, they obviously had the Mother's blessing.
I do not even remember when I first held a practice sword made of bundled sticks, but as I grew I saw my young brothers and sisters receive theirs as soon as they could toddle about. Our days were spent at sword play, horsemanship, and study. The boys also learned statecraft, while we girls learned the arts of women: sewing, childcare, and supervising a household. I was quick at my lessons, to my father's pride and my brothers' dismay. Where Elira had spurned swordplay to study her magics, I was being held up to my brothers as an example to be followed. I rode astride as they did, where she had always chosen a lady's saddle. The horse and I seemed to think as one, and I hardly needed to guide him. The same was true of the dogs we trained in the hunt and the hawks we flew.
It was in my twelfth year that Father brought a mage to replace kindly old Brother Jesham, our tutor. Brother Jesham was blind, though his mind remained clear, but it was his increasing frailty of body that prompted Father to urge him into retirement. Master Alcaran was very different. Where Brother Jesham had been short, and tended toward pudginess, Master Alcaran was remarkably tall, and so thin his bones showed through his palely translucent skin. Where Brother Jesham's eyes were soft and warmly brown, always lit by a twinkle of amusement, Master Alcaran's gazy was icy blue, as piercing as the lightning which seemed to dance behind his eyes. Where Brother Jesham's hair was sandy brown, turning to silver, cropped short and carefully tonsured, Master Alcaran's was black as jet, flowing to his waist in unruly waves, seemingly touched by the same lightning which hid in his eyes. The greatest difference of all, though, was that where Brother Jesham was a simple, if very intelligent, monk, Master Alcaran was a wizard.
Along with my brothers, and our little sister Caryla - the others not having been born yet - I had studied languages, histories, astronomy, religions, legends, music, and dance. Now, under Master Alcaran, we began to study numbers, and ancient languages, astrology, herbalism, andanimal lore. Very soon, Master Alcaran informed my mother that I could not spare time for the study of needlecraft, for he wished me to concentrate harder on my studies with hi. I began to spend six, and sometimes more, hours each day with Master Alcaran after our regular lessons were through.
Master Alcaran taught me the art of druidry, seeing that my natural tendancies were toward all things natural. He tried to teach me necromancy, but I was unable to learn more than the theories behind the magic. Still, he was pleased with me, and continued my education. He knew already, it seemed, the simple magics Elira had taught me almost from the cradle. I knew already how to make myself clean without water and tallow-soap, how to light a room without lighting a candle, how to light a candle with neither flint nor steel. Already, with no training at all, I could take away another's pain, and I used this gift among the children of our servants and tenants. Master Alcaran took all these things, and built upon them, teaching me so much more.
Years passed in this manner. Elira disappeared from our lives, seeking a fortune in the outside world with her self-taught magic. Mother gave birth to other children, finally stopping after Bitesa was born in my fifty-fourth year. By then, I had begun to be proficient at the arts Master Alcaran taught me. I had given up the sword in my thirtieth year, much to the relief of my brothers, who had been hard-pressed to match me for well nigh a quarter century. Joshar, my father's heir and a full twenty-four years my senior, became betrothed to the Lady Assena Goldenfern, a widow of ten years, with six children of her own. He was content to do our father's bidding, and never questioned the choice, though his bride saw him as a child, and could never love him.
On my seventy-fifth birthday, Father announced that he had arranged a match for me, and had agreed to a betrothal. He brought forward a man more than two centuries old, corpulent, with greasy, unkempt hair, a worn, patched tunic, and so much gold about his throat and wrists that he seemed like to fall under the weight of it. Rolls of fat showed under his tunic, swaying and bouncing sickeningly as he waddled toward me, wheezing and gasping for breath. I was appalled. This was Baron Sulvin Ferworth, who had already buried eight wives, all of them dying in childbed before their hundredth birthdays. I felt ill at the thought of allowing such a man to touch me, much less bed me as his wife. I stood rigidly as he pawed me there before my assembled family. His hot breath was rank with the odor of decay as he kissed my mouth wetly, bruisingly. I felt tears of shame and rage rolling down my cheeks. I knew Baron Ferworth to be powerful, and to possess wealth almost rivalling Father's, but I was shocked that I should be given to such a man.
I fled the Hall as soon as I could, bathing to remove any trace of his touch. I cried myself to sleep that night, near despair. When I woke in the morning, I knew what I must do. I must leave my father's Court and seek my future in the world, as Elira had done. It occurred to me to wonder whether a similar fate had driven my sister from us as well, and I feared for our five younger sisters.
I quickly packed my belongings, being careful to take my herbs and the small tools I had learned to use in my magic. I took with me the silver acorn, delicately carved with misteltoe, with which I spoke to the Mother, and hung it about my neck on a silver chain. I packed my harp with great care, wrapping the mithril faerie in a soft cloth, her strings loosened to guard against damage. Having seen my brothers pack for journeys in the past, I took a blanket, rope, a cooking pot, flint, water skins, and all those necessities of travel.
I slipped into the family's armory and retrieved my old short sword, so long unused, slipping a silver knife into my belt, slinging a finely crafted Elven longbow and a quiver of arrows on my back, adding a half dozen of the special silver arrows just in case. I was taking up my oaken staff, preparing to raid the kitchen for food, when I saw my old armor of fine mithril chain, along with the helm and shield. I quickly shrugged off the bow, quiver, and pack I wore, as well as my sword belt, and put the armor on over my tunic and soft leather pants. Knowing the family would soon be stirring, I gathered my pack and weapons again, threw my cloak on over all, and hurried to the kitchen. It didn't take long to gather cheese, dried fruits, and the hard bread the cooks always baked for the dogs. I found a bit of salted meat as well, and soon was on my way.
I took my horse from the stable, saddling him quickly. My dog, Rommer, insisted on following, and I was glad for the company. Knowing that the sea lay a week's ride to the west, and that Master Alcaran had come out of the East, I turned my face toward the sunrise and rose away.
Please View and Sign Our Guestbook