“I’m sorry, m’lady. The law is clear. Unless you provide proof that you’ve been declared head of household you will have to abide by the will of your grandfather and return to New Albion. I can give you a few days to prepare for the journey.” Chief Constable Riverman bowed stiffly and took his leave, the Abadaran acolyte in tow, leaving Gemma to her thoughts.
Deep down it still rankled to be told what to do by a commoner, but she knew he was just the messenger. What bothered her more was the summons from her grandfather. Her father was a head of household when they arrived last spring, but now her entire immediate family was deceased. She was technically old enough to carry the title herself (not that she actually had a household) but given the untimely demise of her family she was never legally appointed as an heir.
It was easy enough to imagine why her grandfather was recalling her. New Albion most likely had little more in store for her than an arranged marriage to some wealthy commoner. A repulsive thought. She didn’t wish to be married yet, and certainly not to a commoner, but to make matters worse a marriage would probably mean the end of her wizardry. She would have many duties as a wife in the city, while the time and money needed to continue her magical studies would be seen as an impractical and unnecessary luxury.
That simply wouldn’t do. She loved magic. Shaping arcane energy into even the simplest cantrip was positively thrilling. It was her connection to her family, to the uncle who tutored her. She doubted her grandfather knew anything more about her than her name, but out on the frontier she was realizing her own potential on her own terms. She had friends and purpose, and walked in the company of heroes like Mistress LiAdan, who was just amazing. She was so skilled and masterful, and was obviously the leader of her band and the most capable person in all of Amber!
No, she wouldn’t obey the summons. But there weren’t many ways she could legally refuse. She could marry into another clan here in Amber. She would probably have a better chance of continuing her studies out here, but she had no prospects and even less interest in any of the bachelors she’d met. Even if she attempted such an endeavor such a rushed ceremony would be so scandalous that it could potentially be annulled in the courts. No, that idea wouldn’t do.
If she were wealthy enough she could buy her way out. In effect, she’d be demonstrating her independence and her ability to be prosperous enough to bring honor to the family name. Unfortunately, she only had a little money of her own. LiAdan was fabulously wealthy (Habistaw said so!) but she’d already shown so much kindness in taking her on as a student that she couldn’t even consider asking for such a favor.
That left only one other option. Every head of household was given a stamp seal. Her father’s could count as proof that she was head of her own house if she could only acquire it. She could correspond directly with other branches of her clan, including her grandfather, and assert her legal status as an adult. It might take some clever legal maneuvering to secure her claim considering how young she was but she liked her chances.
Of course, her father died in the wilds while prospecting for gold. She’d have to return to the ruined hamlet of Boulderham, find his body, and hope the seal was still with his remains. An unenviable task to be sure. It would also mean returning to the place where she almost died along with the rest of her family if not for LiAdan’s intervention. And it was too difficult and dangerous to get there alone; she’d need help. But who could she ask?
* * *
Zeff lost the trail. He was a pretty fair hunter and woodsman but the cold, hard ground didn’t yield many dependable signs. Also, the hobgoblins seemed to be wandering aimlessly, which made trying to logically figure out their destination a fool’s errand. He’d thought the final blow was the trampled earth from a herd of buffalo that had recently come through but he’d been wrong. The next morning, the third since they left the Hood farm, it began to snow. There was a good dusting on the ground and more was falling steadily.
They would have had to give up the chase, but Dessa found a crow nestled in a tree and began talking to it. Zeff kept his distance to avoid scaring it off, but in all honesty he also found it a little unnerving to watch. Apparently the crow had seen the hobgoblins and was able to point them in the right direction. Dessa gave the crow a strip of dried meat in thanks and walked off with a confident stride. Zeff gave the bird and the tree it was in an extra wide berth before following. He looked over his shoulder at it a few times as he hustled to catch up to her. The blessings of the gods were strange indeed.