Inga's Magic
First chapter - fantasy/romance
CHAPTER 1
Inga looked around her cottage for what seemed like the tenth time in half as many days. It was a good cottage. It belonged to her. But it was too quiet.
Looking around it, the cottage reminded her of her past, which really wasn’t all that far away from her present. She was a young woman, living on her own, so it had only been a handful of years since she’d left the cottage she’d grown up in.
She had been confirmed as a witch, back in Patermund, some ten days ago. It therefore hadn’t been that long since she’d left the cottage of her teacher, Mistress Hilda. That cottage was even less of a distant memory in her mind.
All the same, there was still much for her to get used to, not the least of which was owning her own cottage. It had come to her through the good graces of the Baron of Munstbruck. The barony had only one witch at work, and for one of the more prosperous of the inland Northern Baronies, that was one and perhaps two witches too few. The Baron had been happy to grant her ownership of the cottage if she’d come to work in Munstbruck.
She leapt at the chance to be on her own. To be a vital part of a going barony. To practice the craft she’d loved long before Hilda discovered she was blessed with the talent to cast spells.
The first of those three was going well. The other two, not so much.
It turned out that being new to a city and a barony, even if she was needed, was more an obstacle than she thought it would be. It was early in the summer, so any chances to meet folk at the Solstice Festival had passed her by. There weren’t going to be dances for a while yet. All she could do was head to the market every day to buy food, and perhaps something for her trade, chat up those she met, and pray to the Goddess that someone would knock on her door.
Inga was startled from her musing on the cottage by a knock on the door.
She raced from the table to the door. If she’d been any taller and stronger, she might have yanked it off its hinges getting it open. She smiled and nodded. “Yes, may I help you?”
“I think you can, yes,” a man replied.
Inga looked at him. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with a handsome face. He had dark brown hair and brown eyes. His shirt was white with blue and green trim along the chest and sleeves. His leggings were light brown. Rather than boots, he wore leather shoes. This was a man of some means, and a young man at that.
“Come in,” she said. “Sit, tell me your name, and what I can do for you.”
“Thank you, Mistress?”
She let out an awkward laugh. “Forgive me. My name is Inga.”
“Thank you, Mistress Inga.”
She let him go to the table. He sat down in the chair closest to the door. She sat down across from him, her back to her hearth and stove, both of which were cold on this warm summer’s day.
“I understand you’re new to our city, yes?” he asked.
“Quite so. I come from Patermund.”
“I’ve heard that’s a fine city.”
“It is. Smaller than Munstbruck, and quieter as well. You know my name. What’s yours?”
“Yes, forgive me, Mistress. I am Arnulf, the eldest son of Karl the silversmith. Have you heard of my father?”
“I’m afraid not.” Inga shrugged. “I haven’t much need for jewelry.”
“No?”
She smiled. “If you’re here to hire me, you’ll be my first customer.”
“Me? Your first? That can’t be.”
“His Grace was most kind to find me a place to live and work, and provide them to me. But being provided with a place to work doesn’t guarantee work. I’ve been trying to get out to make it clear that I’m practicing my craft, but there’s only so much I can do.”
“Only so much?”
“I came here with my clothes, so I don’t need new ones, and I haven’t needed them mended. The cottage is in good shape, so nothing here needs repair. I missed the Solstice Festival, so there’s that chance gone. The only time I’ve been out is to buy food.”
“I didn’t know.”
“That’s all well and good, Arnulf, was it? You’ve probably never had to consider the prospect of moving to a new place.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“So, you will be following in your father’s trade?”
“Yes. I’m not as good as Father, but I do well enough.”
“Good. Now, why have you come to see me?”
“I was wondering if I might buy a love potion from you.”
Inga frowned and shook her head. “You can’t. Not unless your need is urgent.”
“Urgent? Why not?”
“Love potions are a risk, Arnulf. For one, they alter the mind of the one taking the potion. They turn a mind that isn’t interested in another into one very interested in someone. That sort of manipulation requires a very good reason for it.”
“It’s not like a truth spell?”
“Not in the least. Yes, a truth spell compels someone to answer questions they’re asked truthfully. But normally truth spells are cast upon criminals who refuse to admit their guilt, or on witnesses who refuse at a trial to speak the truth. A truth spell doesn’t make someone say things they don’t know are true. It doesn’t change their views of others, or their beliefs, or where they want to live. It compels them to speak the truth as they know it.
“A love potion does change someone’s mind. It turns lack of interest into interest and affection. Doing that makes them willing to change their beliefs. It’s been used to make those who take it willing to abandon their friends and families.
“All that in turn forces the one giving the potion to keep giving it. When the potion wears off, the one taking it will return to how they thought about someone else. If they hated the one who gave them the potion, that hate will return. All that means you’re forcing someone to be under a spell. Forcing them against their will. That’s not something a witch will do lightly.”
“No?’
She shook her head. “No. One circumstance in which it would be lawful and ethical to administer a love potion is when someone is under another spell to manipulate their mind. Another love potion, or a binding spell. It’s acceptable to use such spells to break other spells when those other spells were cast with evil intent. So unless you can convince me that the woman you want to give a love potion to is in some sort of magical danger, you’ll not get one from me.”
“She’s not.”
“I see. Were I suspicious of you, and there were more witches in the city, I might have to report you just for asking. I presume you didn’t go to Mistress Marta first?”
He shook his head. “I thought you, being younger, would understand.”
“Well, Arnulf, the answer is no.” She made herself smile. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t hire me to help you in some other way. Now, why would you even want a love potion in the first place?”
He let out a deep breath. “There’s a young woman in town who I’d like to court.”
“Who is she?”
“Matilda, the daughter of Waldo the brewer.”
“Have you spoken with her?”
He frowned. “No. I haven’t had the courage.”
“Why not?”
“She’s so pretty, and smart, and she’s the daughter of a master brewer, Mistress.”
“Please, call me Inga.”
He nodded.
“You said you haven’t spoken with her. Have you met her?”
He sighed again. “I have. I struggled to get out my own name.”
“She’s that pretty?”
“Yes.”
“But?”
“I’m not that confident around women, Mistress. Inga. I have two brothers, and no sisters or women cousins. Mother died years ago. I spend most of my days working in the shop with Father, learning the trade. I just don’t get out much.”
“Not at all?”
“No.”
Inga didn’t know much about the young man’s troubles, but she felt she ought to if she was going to help him. She also didn’t want him getting desperate enough to perhaps break the law by finding some other means to get at this young lady.
“What happens when you speak to young ladies at a dance?” she asked.
Arnulf blew out a breath. “I can’t seem to find the right words to say.”
“Not even a greeting?”
“That I can do. I just can’t seem to get past that.”
“You seem to be talking to me well and good.”
“Yes, but this is business. I don’t have to impress you, or be charming. Either you can help me or you can’t.”
That did make sense to her, so she accepted his reasoning. “Very well. What of this young lady?”
“Matilda?”
“Yes. You said she’d pretty.”
He smiled. “That she is.”
“What else do you know about her?”
“The last time I tried to speak to her, she was patient. Not patient enough to wait forever for me to figure out something charming to say, but she did wait a few moments. She did encourage me to speak.”
“Does she have a reputation for being kind? Considerate?”
“Kind, yes.”
“How so?”
“For a few years now, she’s been the one to visit the men that work at the brewery when they fall sick.”
“Visit?”
“Yes. She makes something for them. Soup, I think.” He nodded. “Yes, soup, and she bakes bread. She takes it to their house.”
“And then what?”
He shrugged. “Gives it to them, I suppose.”
“While they’re sick?”
“No, I mean, their wives, or their children.”
“She’s not known for staying?”
“No. She brings them food she makes. She asks how they’re doing. Asks if they need a witch.” He pressed his lips together. “She hasn’t always brought a witch to them. Mistress Marta has been busy.” He huffed. “But I suppose you knew that.”
“Yes. But if they can’t get to Marta, and they need her help, this Matilda brings Marta to them, is that it?”
“Yes, that’s it.”
“Is she the only young woman that does this for the men who work for her father?”
“Yes. A couple of the men have their wives do it. You see, Master Waldo’s wife used to do that for him. When Matilda came into womanhood, she took over that work.” His brows furrowed. “If you’d call that work.”
“Do you know why she took over that duty?”
He shook his head.
“I see. What else do you know about Matilda?”
“Everyone in the city knows what she did for her cousin.”
“Her cousin?”
“Trudi. She lived on a farm along the river. A few years ago it rained for days and the river flooded. Trudi’s parents were among those killed in the flooding.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Was she hurt?”
“No. They had her go to a neighbor on higher ground. Several families had their children do that, in the countryside past the city.”
“And what of Trudi?”
“Well, Matilda told her father that he ought to let his niece move in with them. Seeing as she didn’t have any parents anymore, and I suppose was too young to marry or start a farm.”
“Matilda said this? Her father didn’t offer on his own?”
“Not that I heard.”
“Do you know why he didn’t offer to give her a home?”
“No.”
Inga huffed out a breath. “Well, what’s the rumor around the city?”
“I haven’t heard any rumors.”
“No rumors? Not about something like that?”
“No. Why?”
“How is it that you know that Matilda told her father to allow her cousin to live with them? That it was her insistence and not his?”
“Trudi told me.”
Inga blinked. “Trudi told you?”
“Yes. She came to the shop a few days ago. She wanted something nice for Matilda. Matilda was born late in the summer.” Arnulf pressed his lips together again. “I asked her a few questions about Matilda.”
“Only a few?”
“Father said I wasn’t paying attention to our work.” He let out a breath. “I also started to feel nervous about talking to her.”
“Why?”
“She’s pretty. Not as pretty as Matilda, but pretty.”
Inga leaned back in her chair. “I take it you started to feel odd or uncomfortable when you began to chat with her?”
“Yes.”
“Which?”
“What?”
“Which? Odd or uncomfortable?”
“Both, I think.”
“You’re not used to chatting with others, is that it?”
He shook his head. “I work. I talk business. Everything else, well, I feel lost.”
She nodded to him. “I think I see you trouble.”
“You do?”
“Indeed. I gather you spend all your time in your father’s shop, yes?”
He swallowed. “Yes.”
“Are you happier there than anywhere else in the city?”
“I am, yes, quite so.”
“Happier there than in your own bed?”
His shoulders seemed to want to clench together. “I don’t know that I’d say that.”
She smiled and waved at hand to him. “I would, but don’t worry about it.”
“No?”
“No. Back in Patermund, I knew a man just like you. My teacher knew a couple of young men like you. They were all happiest in their work. Their shop, their trade, it was all they wanted in life. And they all made things, as you make objects with silver and such.
“Now, ask them about how our Baron was getting along with our neighbors, or if the Snowlands pirates were going to be a threat again, or where one might buy the best wine, and their breaths would grow short, their bodies would tense up, and their mouths would close. They couldn’t chat about the weather or city gossip if their lives depended upon it. But ask them about what they did, or something they were working at, and they’d have talked all day and all night.”
He relaxed. “That sounds like me.”
“At least you’re wise enough to admit it, my young friend.”
“What happened to them?”
“The fellow I knew got married, right before I left to come here. As for the other two, I think one married, but the other never did.” She waved her right hand. “No matter. I’ll see what I can do for you.”
“You’ll get me an introduction?”
“I’ll try to, Arnulf. I’ll pay this cousin of hers a visit. Ask her a few questions.”
“And then?”
“Don’t get your hopes up. The two of you might not be interested in each other, once you actually meet and speak with each other.”
“I see,” he replied glumly.
“Not to worry! If you and this young lady don’t find love, it’s not the end of your life.”
“No?”
“Certainly not!” She nodded, as much to herself as to him. “What we’ll call this is an effort to get you comfortable speaking with others. Chatting. Gossiping. If this Matilda is the best young lady of the city, and you fail, then you’ll have aimed high and failed.”
“That doesn’t sound good!”
“Nonsense.” She pointed at him. “This young lady caught your eye. All well and good. But perhaps if she can give you confidence, several young women will catch your eye.” She grinned widely. “And I must say, you are something of a handsome young man. Even if you were not, you’re going to be a silversmith like your father. I’m certain that’s a trade that will earn you more than a fair wage.”
He sat a bit straighter. “Much more than fair.”
“You see! You should be the one to win the heart of a young lady. What you need is the courage to try. Perhaps the skill at talking, or meeting, or what have you. Whether you and this Matilda fall in love or not doesn’t matter. What will matter is giving you a touch of courage, a pinch of wit, and a little skill. Gain some experience and ability, Arnulf, and you’ll find love.”
“With or without Matilda?”
“Indeed. She might be the woman for you. Or the woman for you might be one you haven’t yet met. But if you know how to speak to Matilda, to engage with her, then whoever the right woman is for you, you and she will be happy together.”
“You’re sure?”
“I am sure. Because you and she will know how to speak with each other.”
“After courting? After marriage?”
She laughed. “Exactly!”
“I don’t follow you, Inga.”
“Will she be the one to chat in your shop while you craft beautiful jewelry? Will she be the one to meet your neighbors and get them to like you? Or will the two of you do those things together as husband and wife?
“Think of these things like a dowry, Arnulf. A woman brings a little of her father’s wealth to a marriage. That’s her dowry. But she can also bring other skills and talents to a marriage. It’s not just about her being able to cook and sew and raise children. It could be that she had the charm while her husband has the skill of a craftsman or tradesman. It could be that she has friends of her family that will patronize her husband’s trade once they know him. It could be that she had connections to the Baron, or to important families in other baronies.
“The first step in knowing what she brings to marriage is knowing her. The first step in her knowing if she wants to bring those gifts is in knowing you. That first step is what you seem to keep stumbling over. I’ll help you get past that first step. I’ll give you the confidence to get past it and keep going.”
He nodded, though slowly. “I think I understand.”
“Well, not to worry. This will no doubt take time. You and I will have time to talk it over. I’ll help you understand. Then, hopefully not after too long a time, you’ll be able to do all of this on your own.”
“Just as Father taught me the silversmith’s trade?”
“Quite so.”
He smiled, nodded, then his smile faded away. “How much will this cost?”
“One silver as a first payment. The rest we can talk over once I know what to do.”
“I suppose that’s fair.” He put a silver coin on the table between them.
“Good. Give me a day to talk to this young lady’s cousin. If I can’t do that in a day, I’ll let you know.”
“Thank you.”
Inga smiled brightly. “No, Arnulf, thank you. This is my first paying job as a witch.”
“But it has nothing to do with magic.”
“True, but we all must start somewhere.”
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Happy writing & happy reading!
Curious stuff. At the mid-point the dialogue took a bit too heavy chunk, verging on talking heads syndrome, but when you peppered it with some action your text flowed quite nicely. But the setup was intriguing.