Chapter 3: Port Marden

SEAMUS

Seamus had been coming to Port Marden two or three times a year with his parents for as long as he could remember. So he knew the town well. Unfortunately that meant many people in the town knew him too. For this reason he kept to the back streets as he wandered, hoping he would not be easily recognised.

As he got closer to the markets the cobbled streets widened and the houses were larger and more prosperous looking. While many were still made of stone, some had second stories added made of wood and plaster. Many of these overhung the street, making a rough sort of cover.

Where the back streets had been quiet, those around the market bustled with activity. The number of people he passed increased. They were mainly traders carrying their unsold goods home to their waiting families. He kept his cap down but nodded to people he passed so as not to seem unfriendly. If people thought him unfriendly they may remember him later, then his parents might hear he was wandering around by himself.

As he walked his mind ticked over. He needed time to himself because he needed to think. He needed to decide what to do. And he needed to decide soon because things were getting out of control.

'Things.' He laughed to himself. 'Me. I am getting out of control.'

Seamus replayed the scene from that afternoon in his head. When his brother had barged into his room to hide, Seamus' fright sent the books on his desk flying towards the opening door. Fortunately he lunged to the desk before his brother realised it had not been possible for him to throw the books from where he had been standing. His brother's reaction told hem he had managed to hide what had really happened. This time.

For the last few years those incidents had been increasing. The type of incidents where he could move things without touching them. In some areas of the country, like the Southern Duchy, having magic would be cause for celebration. On the Island of Hand magic was forbidden, and those who disobeyed this law were banished.

So far he had managed to hide his growing talent, but recently there were more incidents where things had just happened as he thought them into being. He knew he could not go on the way things were. But what should he do - that was the question?

If he stayed on Hand he would have to undergo the process of quietening. His magic would be silenced forever. He was not sure he really wanted that. Magic was part of him. If he decided not to be quietened then he needed to leave and find someone to help him control his magic. Of course he could go to the school in the Wizard Isles and be trained as a full wizard, but that would mean never returning to Hand. What he really would like to do is find someone who could help him control and hide his magic so he could return home and no one would be any the wiser.

His wandering had brought Seamus almost to the market. Many of the buildings he passed were shops. Most of them were closing as their owners headed upstairs to spend the evening with their families. He stopped on the edge of the square. Directly across from him was The West Way, the road out of Port Marden. It joined the main road along the coast towards the capital, Bannock. If he decided to leave at this time on a market day he should be able to blend in with the farmers and landowners leaving town. That way he would not be noticed by the guards, and he could be well away before anyone even knew he was missing. The thought was tempting, but he would need to be better prepared than he was now.

The stallholders in the market were packing up and chatting to passers-by, trying to make a last minute sale so as not to have to carry their goods home. He would have to be careful as he went through as many of them might remember having seen him with his parents and would remember his being there. Then they would be able to tell those who came looking for him later that he had passed through. He needed some sort of disguise to blend in.

He decided to take a turn round the square before returning home. Startled by shouting, he stopped by a half-dismantled stall. At the bread stall across the way was a baker and a ragamuffin. Had the boy stolen something? No, it looked as though the baker had taken pity on a boy and was giving him one of the loaves he had not sold that day.

He scanned the crowd. There, on the other side of the square, were three sailors running and yelling. Were they screaming at the boy? Or maybe the baker - it was hard to tell which.

The boy raised his head and noticed the fast approaching sailors, his eyes widened with fear. The baker, still holding onto the the loaf, also turned in the direction of the commotion, his mouth open as if he was about to speak.

Seamus moved fast. He focused on the crates in front of the sailors, pointing to where he wanted them to be. They wobbled, then toppled with a loud crash and scattered across their path. The unsuspecting sailors tripped over the boxes and each other, falling to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs.

Running into the square, Seamus grabbed the boy's hand, and the loaf of bread, then started running towards The West Way. Dodging around carts and people they came face to face with another group of sailors. Seamus spun around, but the first group had untangled themselves and where coming at them from behind. Out of the corner of his eye he limped the baker talking to two guards and pointing their way. They were trapped!

There must be somewhere… ah, he spotted a gap. He dragged the boy between two stalls, before running down the alley behind.

'Wait,' the boy gasped. 'We'll be trapped.'

'Trust me.' Seamus pulled the boy through a line of washing, then ducked in behind a cart parked in the yard behind. He had often carried his mother's gowns here when she came to see the laundress. They would be safe here for a while.

Listening, he waited until the footsteps of their pursuers passed by, then pulled the boy back out courtyard, and down the alley the way they had come in. As they entered the market, shouts from behind told him they had been spotted.

'Come on, this way.' He tugged the boys arm, leading him towards The West Way. Running past the astonished guardsmen, he started threading his way through the crowd.

'Halt. You there, Halt I say!'

Seamus had no intention of halting. He had used magic in public. He no longer had time to plan his future - the future was here, and it appeared it was time for him to leave Port Marden. He continued on, pulling the boy behind him, until they joined the throng of farmers leaving the town after market day.

Now the best camouflage was to appear like everyone else, so he slowed down and took a quick look behind. He could not see anyone in pursuit. They ducked in behind a farmer's wagon for extra cover. Satisfied they now blended in with the crowd, he relaxed and started breathing normally.