The Apprentice Read online

  Rowan’s musings were cut off as a young woman with a low cut bodice and a flirtatious smile brought their food and drink. The food was warm and tasted great after so many days of eating what little they carried with them. A bite of fresh bread with sliced cheese made Rowan realize just how hungry he was. He quickly cleaned his plate and sipped his drink while waiting for Baird to do the same. As he watched his master eat, he noticed for the first time that Baird ate with surprising grace. It was not something that stood out, nor did it seem overly proper, but he spilled almost no crumbs and kept clean as he ate.

  It took Rowan two drinks before Baird finished his meal. When he did, they stood and left the inn, though Horst did his best to convince them to stay.

  “Why does the innkeeper seem so attracted to you?” Rowan asked. “It seems as though if we bought our supplies from him we could almost expect them for free.”

  “He bows and scrimps to me in an annoying fashion. The attention may seem helpful, even desirable, but it is not. He acts as he does because he has some suspicion of who I am. He does not know me, but he suspects that I am important and he knows that I carry enough coin to offer him the patronage of ten lesser men. And I carry a certain influence in this city.”

  Baird would say no more, other than that he wished to be away from the inn and its owner for a while. He consented that they might buy whatever supplies they could not find elsewhere from Horst, but he still insisted on looking around the city first.

  “If we stay in our inn and get our supplies from Horst, we will learn nothing. In a city, one can learn much by walking among the crowds. Information becomes readily available. Besides, it is pleasant to get out and enjoy the air and city.”

  Rowan agreed with that. It felt good to walk the streets and take in the sights and sounds and smells of the city. Barrinell was much better kept than Attica had been. There was a sense of order and the city seemed less crowded.

  They walked the streets for a while, talking in the sights and finding the stalls that offered what they needed. Baird seemed to know where everything in the city was, but he took his time, wandering around as though he wished to show it to Rowan. Even so, within a few hours they had gathered most of what they needed in order to make it to Estoria comfortably. They had purchased plenty of food and a few other items for their journey.

  “I want you to take all of this back to the inn. You remember where to find it?”

  Rowan nodded reluctantly.

  “Why do I have to carry everything back?”

  “Because I have other business to attend to,” Baird replied. “There is someone that I wish to meet with while I am in Barrinell. A good friend of mine.”

  Rowan reluctantly agreed. It would not be a pleasant task, but if Baird wished to attend to his business then Rowan figured it would be best to allow him to do so. It would give Rowan a chance to go off on his own and see the city for himself.

  He had made careful note of where their inn was this time. He refused to get lost again. His first time in a city, it could be excused. Becoming lost again would show him to be a bumbling country fool who did not belong. So he had done his best to memorize the layout of the city and path back.

  “Feel free to wander off, but be back at the inn before evening or I will have to come looking for you.”

  With that, Baird left Rowan to himself. Rowan returned to the Ten Penny Tavern and deposited their food and supplies in the room. They would pack it all later that evening, so Rowan just left everything on Baird’s bed.

  He felt tired and would have gladly welcomed a rest had he not been in a city. Barrinell was a new place just waiting to be explored. Rowan took to the streets and left the inn behind him.

  He walked around, trying to take in the sights of the city. Everything was of such a large scale that he was in wonder that it was all shaped by the hands of men. He noted the differences between this city and Attica. In Attica, everything had been square and straight, every edge seemed hard. Buildings there were a mix of wood and stone. The buildings of Barrinell favored stone and clay and were built with soft, curving edges, only using timber on lesser buildings or for decoration. And they stood tall, even to someone like Rowan who had grown up in the Vale surrounded by the ancient trees that stood like towers. When Rowan saw a three story building in Attica it had shocked him, seeming so large. He knew that there existed castles and great stone buildings of massive size, but to see ordinary buildings of three stories was different. Here, a building of three stories could seem small. There were some that extended at least five stories, with walkways between them. Rowan pictured himself walking along the raised stone walkways that bridged some of the buildings and shivered. They seemed to hang in the air, suspended by nothing and ready to fall as soon as the wind blew hard enough.

  The markets bustled with activity and the air hummed with the voices of many people talking at once. Rowan took his time looking around, remembering the lessons he had learned in Attica. He kept his purse securely hidden and he bought nothing.

  However, he could not help but stop to watch the street performers. He saw one man breathe fire and another who could make things disappear and reappear with a wave of his hand. Rowan watched him perform several times without catching the trick. The performer only chuckled and gave him a last show before leaving to perform elsewhere. “It is a difficult thing to learn this magic, boy. If it could be learned by watching only a few times, everyone would know my secrets and the magic would be lost.”

  Rowan found many things in the city that interested him. The commons of inns were welcome places and most often had something to entertain him. He listened to musicians and song-weavers. Storytellers told tales over drinks, speaking of shadow magic and brave men who fought the darkness. They told of the heroes of ages past who had forged the nation and forever became a part of history.

  He wandered some more, wishing to see more of the city before the sun could set. He still had a few hours of light left to him.

  At the center of the city, Rowan found a massive statue built into a raised fountain. There Rowan took a rest, sitting in the statue’s shadow. It was carved in the likeness of a man who held a shield at his shoulder to block an unseen blow, his freehand holding a blade that was ready to make a counterstrike.

  Rowan idly took in the statue and rested. He still felt weary. Perhaps it would be best if I returned to the inn and rested. It has been quite some time since I had a long night’s sleep.

  Rowan tried to rouse himself, to rise and return to the inn where there was a bed waiting for him. But he felt tired and weak and it felt good to sit. He saw no problem with a short rest before returning, so that was what he did.

  * * *

  Rowan found that evening was upon him when he opened his eyes. He had not meant to stay for so long, and he had certainly not meant to sleep. Rowan cursed himself as he rose, feeling for his purse to make sure it had not been taken from him unawares. He sighed when he discovered the purse where he left it, seeming to weigh as much as it had before.

  The city center was mostly empty. A few lone people still walked the streets, but the market square was cleared, save for Rowan. He hurried off, eager to return to the inn before Baird could notice his absence. Returning late twice would not give a good impression and Rowan did not want his master to think that he could not handle himself in a city.

  The evening was still young and the streets were well lit by the glow from the windows of inns and taverns. The sounds of merriment and drinking and the smell of food tempted Rowan to stop, but he hurried onwards. It was late and such pleasantries were more than likely to be found at the Ten Penny Tavern, where he had a bed to sleep in.

  Rowan made his way through the streets and through a few alleys. He was nearing the eastern edge of the city when he ran into a pair of guards. The two men were walking down the street as Rowan came jogging out of an alley, colliding with one of the men.

  “My apologies,” Rowan said, taking a step back and moving t
o continue walking. The second guard, however, blocked his path.

  “That was rude, what you done did. Ye knocked Dom, me mate.”

  “I am sorry. I was a hurry and did not see either of you. Now if you will let me be on my way—”

  “I don’t see as how your problem needs to be my problem. I don’t care if you’re in a rush. You done a wrong and hurt my mate, and now ye’ll have to make things right.”

  “Yer damn right he has to make things right, Arthur.”

  “Am I missing something?” Rowan said, puzzled. His confusion seemed to amuse the soldiers.

  “Look, kid,” the second guard, Arthur, said as he took a step forward. “My purse has been a little bit light these days. Soldiers don’t get paid a whole lot, you see. Now, I notice that your own purse seems to be full. I think that you ought to offer my companion some compensation for the trouble and pain that you caused him.”

  “I bumped into him on accident. He isn’t hurt.”

  “I do not care. You should have been more careful before you started running the streets at night. Our streets.”

  The situation suddenly seemed much more threatening to Rowan. He became all too aware that both guards were larger than he and both wore swords at their hips. Rowan was unarmed and fatigued, and he was alone.

  “I think I will take my leave now,” Rowan said, taking a step backwards. As he did so, something struck him in the chest and he fell against a wall.

  “Not so fast, boy. You don’t leave until we’re done with you.”

  Rowan flailed out with his fists and landed a blow.

  Arthur recoiled, holding his jaw. “Dammit. You just struck me.” He stepped forward and punched Rowan in the gut, causing him to hunch down as he grabbed his stomach and tried to protect his body.

  “Help—”

  Rowan tried to call out but he was cut short by a blow to the head.

  “Don’t go making a ruckus, boy,” Arthur said as he grabbed Rowan and shoved him to the ground. The big guard, Dom, kicked Rowan several times, forcing him to curl into a ball to protect himself.

  “Now,” Arthur said, looking down at Rowan, “you are going to hand over your purse and be on your way.”

  Cornered and beaten, Rowan lay helpless on the ground. He raged inside and wished he had a sword of his own so that he could fight. His anger seemed to show, as both guards placed their hands on the hilts of their swords. Rowan pulled out his purse and reluctantly handed it over. The guards were about to leave when both suddenly stopped. It became apparent why when a familiar deep, booming voice shouted Rowan’s name.

  “What is going on here?” Baird demanded as he approached.

  Both soldiers turned to face the knight, gripping their swords a bit tighter once they saw him. Baird easily topped them by a full head and he struck an imposing figure. The smaller of the two soldiers, Arthur, stepped forward and straightened his back.

  “This doesn’t concern you, citizen,” Arthur said. “Why don’t mind your own business and move along before you get yourself into trouble.”

  “This is my business,” Baird said emphatically. “You are harassing this boy, and he is my charge. So whatever is going on here is most certainly my business.”

  The soldier tried to interrupt but Baird silenced him.

  “I strongly suggest that the two of you leave, immediately.”

  By this point, Rowan had gotten up and was rubbing the places where he had been struck. He felt that things were becoming too tense and he did not want to cause any more trouble. So he chose that moment to finally speak up.

  “Baird, why don’t we just leave,” he suggested. Rowan tried to pull the big man away but Baird did not budge, he just pushed Rowan off to the side and continued to stand, crossing his arms as if he were waiting for something.

  Several moments later Rowan heard the sound of footsteps drawing near, the clangor of metal on metal indicating that they were more soldiers.

  Rowan instantly feared the worst and began trying to pull Baird away, assuming that the soldiers would either back up the two there or try to break up the dispute, which would not go over well with Baird. But Baird did not seem at all troubled. If anything, he seemed more relaxed.

  Rowan and Baird turned to face the newcomers. Out of the corner of his eye, Rowan saw the two soldiers, Arthur and Dom, stiffen.

  There were several of the newcomers. One man, whom Rowan had not noticed because he had been slower to arrive and was consequently standing behind the others, stepped forward. He was of an average height and build, perhaps slightly on the heavy side, and he had a deep scar that ran across his left cheek. From the way he was dressed—wearing finer armor, and less of it than any other man—and the reaction caused by his presence, it was clear that he was an officer.

  “Captain!” Arthur and Dom cried out in surprise and snapped to attention, the color draining from their faces.

  The captain seemed to take the situation in at a glance and when his gaze landed on Rowan it lingered, examining him for a moment, searching for something. Rowan shifted nervously. Whatever the man saw seemed to satisfy him and he moved on.

  The whole situation seemed strange now. Rowan had little idea what was going on or what would happen next, and to his surprise, the captain ignored the soldiers behind them, and instead turned to address Baird.

  “Baird,” he said, opening his arms in an exaggerated greeting. The pair shook hands rather enthusiastically, the captain grimacing and cradling his hand after.

  “You always did have a knack for timing, James,” Baird said, smiling. “Leave it to you to arrive at the last moment possible. Any longer and you would have had quite a mess on your hands, and I would not have helped you to sort things out. By the way, how is the scar treating you?”

  “It still stings every once in a while, but that is not important. I take it that this is the boy you were looking for?” James said, casually indicating Rowan with a nod.

  “Yes. I found him in a bit of a bind with these two.” Baird indicated the soldiers behind him. “I don’t know what the problem was, but I think I can take a guess.” He looked pointedly at Rowan’s purse, which Arthur still grasped in his left hand.

  “I see,” James said thoughtfully. “It was good of you to notify me, and to restrain yourself from injuring my guards. They are a disgrace to the city, but I have recently been left short-handed, though you probably know more about that than I do. Anyway, you can rest assured that these two will be severely punished and will no longer wear the uniform of a city guard. In fact, I think I have a much better uniform in mind for them to wear.”

  The captain grinned and both soldiers looked distressed. Arthur, the bolder one, tried to protest.

  “But Captain, surely you aren’t going to—”

  “Silence! I’ve had enough of you two,” James shouted, snatching the purse away from Arthur. “Bjorn and Kirill will escort the two of you back to the barracks, where you will stay put and wait for me to return.”

  With that, he motioned to the guards behind him, who stepped forward. Arthur and Dom allowed themselves to be escorted away with their heads hung in shame. James waited until they were out of sight before he turned back to address Baird and Rowan.

  “Unfortunately, I must leave now to finish my rounds,” he said. “It was good to see you again, Baird, although I wish it could have been under better circumstances.”

  He shook Baird’s hand before he turned to Rowan and handed him his lost money.

  “It was good to meet you as well, boy. You must be quite special if Baird singled you out to take under his wing and train. A lot of people would kill for such an opportunity.”

  “Thanks, James. Now you’ve given the boy a boost to his ego that he does not need. He’ll be full of hot air,” Baird complained. He seemed to enjoy the compliment to his skills and reputation, but Rowan couldn’t tell whether the statement was meant to be sarcastic or not. Either way, he felt both humbled and honored.

  “Unti
l next time,” James said, turning to walk away from them. As they watched him leave, Baird muttered something under his breath about interference and holding one’s tongue.

  Once the captain was out of sight, Baird turned away from Rowan and silently led the way back to the Ten Penny Tavern. Rowan could sense his master’s disappointment in him and he felt filled with shame at his inability to act on his own. With his head bowed, he trudged after Baird.

  Chapter 12

  Rowan woke and stretched, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. A night spent in a real bed left him feeling amazing. Though he bore bruises from the previous night, his constant sparring with Baird had hardened his body and he felt little pain. The stiffness in his back and neck had gone, and he wished for nothing more than that he could continue to sleep. But he knew that he must rise and face the day, so he threw off the covers, baring himself to the chilled morning air, and stood to begin the motions of the blade dance.

  If there had been any chance for Rowan to save face the night before, it had disappeared after his encounter with the soldiers. The walk back to the inn had been humiliating. Baird had remained silent and ignored Rowan for half of the time, and the rest was spent lecturing him. And if that was not enough, when Rowan had explained that he had dozed off, Baird laughed so hard that they had to stop so he could sit down and catch his breath. By the time they reached the Ten Penny Tavern, Rowan was red faced with shame and Baird was still laughing.

  By then, it was getting to be quite late. The common room was mostly empty and the music had long been gone, leaving men alone with their cups and their companions. It left the place silent.