The Apprentice Read online

  They fought, trading blows until Baird called a halt less than half an hour later. Rowan was sweating and tired, but not yet out of breath. He could go for longer.

  Rowan enjoyed the feeling that came with sparring, and was pleased with his growth. At the beginning of their journey, he would have collapsed and slept, exhausted from such exercise after a day’s travel. He had never been weak, but holding a weapon and standing correctly forced him to use different muscles. Time and practice had helped him and now he felt stronger and better. His muscles had grown and he was used to the strain and pain of holding a sword and dueling.

  Baird, too, did not look to be weary. Yet he halted the action and forced a stop.

  “There is still much to do and the day grows shorter. We will spar more some other time, but for now we must be done. I wish to speak with Princess Eliza before the evening meal, and you will need time to clean yourself up so that you appear presentable.”

  Rowan did not protest. He had no desire to accompany Baird to see Princess Eliza, and he felt that his presence would be an intrusion if he did. His master required a chance to talk to the princess about Rowan, and for that Baird would prefer him not to come along.

  “Why do you need to speak with the princess?”

  “Princess Elizabeth will be angry that I did not find her after talking with her father. In truth, it is her own fault for leaving you alone, but I should still speak with her. While I am gone, you will find your way back to my chambers and prepare yourself. King Alden is hosting a special dinner with many of the lords and ladies of the court, along with other high ranking officials and officers such as myself.”

  “Why did you not tell me this earlier?” Rowan was gripped by a sudden sense of apprehension. He would be very out of place among the highborn people who would attend the dinner. He was painfully aware of how poor and worn his clothing was. He knew nothing of the necessary social etiquettes common to the highborn. And he would likely be an object of attention and curiosity, meaning his ignorance and appearance would not go unnoticed.

  “I only learned of it today and there was no reason to bring it up earlier. It is nothing special. The food will be splendid and it will be well hosted, but I often find such events to be boresome.”

  The pair returned their practice weapons to the stands.

  “I will walk with you back to the castle, but there I will take my leave. I requested a set of fine dress clothes for you earlier.” A small amount of Rowan’s tension left him. At least he would not have to worry about his appearance. “There was no time to have them sized, but they should fit. You will find the clothing waiting for you in my rooms. If there is a problem—if the clothing is too large or too small—call on one of the maids and they will be able to help you.”

  They walked to the stair built into the rise to connect the upper grounds with the training fields. Together they ascended in silence until the stairs ended and they reached the castle grounds.

  Rowan bid farewell to Baird as his master left to find the princess. Rowan continued on across the grounds, now alone, and began retracing his way back to Baird’s building. He took the long route around the outside of the castle, not trusting himself to be able to navigate his way through the interior.

  Baird had indeed requested something for him to wear.

  Laid out on the bed, Rowan found a very fine set of clothes. The outfit was extravagant, favoring green and other brighter colors and edged with gold trim. Rowan picked up the shirt and found the fabric to be thinner than he expected, which meant that it was likely to be expensive.

  He suddenly felt conscious of how he was going to appear amongst all the nobility, dressed in fine clothes without even a thought to their worth. Rowan guessed that his new outfit, something that was likely just a spare set of clothes that had been outgrown by some young noble, could be sold for enough money to feed his village for weeks. But there was nothing for it, so Rowan stripped out of the clothing he was wearing.

  He had washed earlier in the day, but from the steaming wash basin that had been set at the foot of the bed, he guessed that he was expected to wash again. Rowan quickly rinsed himself, washing away the sweat from his bout with Baird. He dried himself with a towel and then dressed in the fine clothing.

  The dress attire was incredibly fancy, but the outfit was uncomfortable and impractical. Though the shirt was thin, he found himself wearing several layers. The collar was high and unyielding, making him feel as though he was being choked. The breeches were tight and restricted his movement.

  He felt absurd, and his opinion was not helped when he saw his reflection. The clothing looked gaudy and ridiculous on him and despite their value, he had no desire to wear them where he might be seen. He thought of wearing the soiled clothes he had been provided with earlier. They were simple but well made, and finer than what he had owned previously. But he knew that would not be permissible.

  He sighed and sat down at Baird’s desk to wait, not knowing where to go or what he should do. While waiting, Rowan absently thought up excuses and ways to avoid the dinner. He did not want to look the fool. He was a farm boy from the Vale and he was far from home.

  Rowan continued to wait until he heard a quiet knock on the door. He had been expecting Baird to show up, so when a young woman opened the door, he was slightly confused.

  “Young Master Rowan?” the girl called, focusing on him.

  “Yes?” Rowan did not bother to correct the title of ‘young master.’

  “Sir Baird wishes you to know that he will meet you at the castle for tonight’s feast. He has sent me to escort you to the ballrooms where he will be waiting.”

  “I can find my own way there,” Rowan said irritably. He tried to make his way past the maid, but she barred the way.

  “Sir Baird was very insistent that I escort you to the ballrooms. It would be troublesome for everyone if you were to lose your way. Having only just arrived, you are not expected to know your way about.”

  Rowan looked into her eyes, arguments building up inside of him. He met her gaze and found his own wavering. The woman had a hard look on her face, the kind of stubborn look that would not tolerate empty arguments. Rowan looked away, knowing that he would not be able to have his way. He sighed in resignation.

  “You may lead me to the ballrooms.”

  The young woman smiled and stepped back, allowing Rowan to pass into the hall. She looked him up and down, frowning as she did. Without a word, she stepped forward and began tugging at Rowan’s clothing.

  “Hey! What—”

  “Be still and be quiet. I must fix your clothing properly.”

  Rowan flushed and stopped protesting, allowing her to twist and tug his clothing until she was satisfied. When finished, she stepped back to survey her work. She eyed his hair with a frown, but said nothing.

  “Lead on,” Rowan said, eager to avoid any further embarrassment. His clothing was one thing, but he would be damned before he allowed a woman to try and work at his hair.

  The young maid led Rowan downstairs and out towards the castle, where coaches were gathered and people were entering. But instead of taking him in through the front entrance, the maid led Rowan to a side entrance that he guessed was used mainly by the servants.

  Inside there were many others dressed as she was, scurrying in and out of branching hallways, carrying trays and an assortment of other things. Rowan was led away, following the maid down a hallway that was not being used by the other servants.

  Rowan could hear the distant sounds of the party coming from above. Laughter and music echoed throughout the hallways and he could smell the food being cooked in the kitchens.

  After the maid had led him through several deserted corridors and up a small flight of stairs, they came out into a hallway where Baird was speaking in hushed tones with another man. When Baird noticed them approaching, he ended his conversation and the man he was speaking with turned and left.

  Dressed in fine clothing, Baird looked like
a completely different person. He appeared just as powerful and strong as he truly was, yet now he had the look of wealth and privilege. Rowan did not fail to note that Baird filled out his own clothes very well. His clothing did not look so stiff, and the collar of his jacket was not nearly as high or tight on his neck as Rowan’s.

  “Hello,” Rowan said, greeting his master.

  Baird thanked the maid and dismissed her before he turned to focus on Rowan. “I see you found the clothes that I requested for you,” Baird said, looking him up and down. “They certainly appear to fit you well enough.”

  “They are very tight,” Rowan said, shifting so that he was not so uncomfortable. “I think that they are too small. Must I wear them? They feel awkward and I look absurd wearing them.”

  “Of course you will wear them. The king is honoring me tonight, and by extension he is honoring you. I need my apprentice to look as though he belongs in the king’s court.” Baird looked at Rowan and seemed to read his thoughts. “I know the clothes are uncomfortable, but try to bear it.”

  Rowan decided he was willing to do this in order to help his master, but Baird’s words did not erase the fact that this outfit was uncomfortable and made Rowan feel out of place.

  Together they made their way to the main hallway where many guests were milling about as they met with others on their way inside and stopped to talk. Baird ignored the people and Rowan followed him, heading down to the ballrooms.

  When Baird had showed Rowan around the castle earlier in the day, the ballrooms had been empty. Now it was an entirely different place, ringed with tables and filled with people. Servants stood unobtrusively by the walls, waiting and watching for where they were needed. Other servants walked among the people carrying trays of different foods.

  The room had a quiet and controlled atmosphere, even filled as it was. Yet Rowan felt himself overwhelmed. The sensation was similar to what he had felt in Barrinell and in Attica, where there were massive crowds and the press of bodies had made him uncomfortable enough to seek escape.

  The room was not so full that Rowan was crowded; it was his senses that were overwhelmed. So many bright colors, conversations, and people surrounded him. Everything seemed to draw his eye. He could hear many conversations, but none well enough to focus on. There was movement everywhere and he could not follow all of it. There were smells; the sweet smell of fruit and food, but other smells as well, these coming from the people. He shut his eyes for a moment to block out all of the movement and the brightness, allowing himself to adjust to this new environment. When he was ready, he opened his eyes and found that he no longer felt dizzy from doing so.

  Curious, Rowan looked around at the people. Many had gathered in small groups and all were dressed in fine clothing to show their wealth and status. Gems and jewels glinted at Rowan from every angle, easily visible from their resting places around the necks, wrists, and fingers of the women. Music played in the background, a tune that Rowan was unfamiliar with.

  Baird led Rowan through the room, often stopping as people greeted him and made inquiries as to how he had fared on his journey. His master made an effort to be friendly and open, but he kept his conversations brief and avoided talking about his time abroad in Terratreos.

  At first Rowan’s presence was largely ignored and people focused on speaking with Baird, but every so often there would be a person who was more intrigued by Rowan’s presence than Baird’s return. These tended to be the people who knew Baird or were hungry for information and gossip.

  Fortunately, Baird had no trouble navigating them through the crowd. He was a large man and people tended to move out of his way; Rowan simply walked behind him.

  After many discussions and introductions, the pair finally made their way to where King Alden stood with Princess Eliza. They were surrounded by many groups, though the people did not group together so thickly there as elsewhere. Rowan could see many glancing towards the king and princess, trying to listen in on their conversations without being noticed. King Alden himself was involved in a very animated discussion with a fairly large, extravagantly dressed man.

  “Greetings, Majesty.”

  “Baird,” King Alden called, “I am glad to see you. And you brought young Rowan with you as well. Fantastic! Come, join our discussion.”

  Baird stepped forward and Rowan saw him eyeing the man that King Alden was speaking with. The man was well dressed in fine silks of orange and yellow and gold, tied at the waist with a sash over his rather large belly. The man sported a graying beard and an overstretched grin that looked to Rowan to be well practiced rather than natural.

  “I was just talking with Lord Evans here,” King Alden said, gesturing towards the man. “Fascinating man, he is. He was telling me how he spent some time over the past couple of months touring the countries. Did you know that he went to Terratreos as well?”

  The king grinned, but the comment caught Baird’s attention. It was no secret that Baird had been abroad, but his master seemed reluctant to even admit to others that he had been in Terratreos. All previous inquiries had been met with answers that were polite and responsive while remaining vague as to what he had done and where he had been.

  “I was not aware that Lord Evans had been abroad recently. He will have to tell me more about his travels,” Baird said as he joined the conversation.

  “Why, of course I have travelled outside of the country,” Lord Evans said. “I very much enjoy visiting the foreign lands, although I do not think I’d be able to live anywhere abroad. Atlea is a fine country and very much to my liking. Though I must admit, I have entertained the notion of purchasing land in Lauratrea. The people are not quite as culturally refined, but the land is magnificent, if you can bear the heat.”

  “Lauratrea is indeed a fine country,” Baird agreed. “But you said you travelled to Terratreos, and I would much rather hear the details of your trip north.”

  “Of course, of course. But I think that at the moment you hold the much more interesting tale, Sir Baird,” Evans said. “You have been gone for such a long time and now you return with an apprentice. I am sure that we are all quite anxious to hear your tales. More importantly, I would like to meet the young boy that you have taken on as your pupil.”

  Rowan caught a flicker of annoyance from Baird. Lord Evans had avoided the question. It was a small gesture, but Rowan noticed. Otherwise, Baird held back his annoyance well, his face a perfect mask of calm. His master was exceedingly good at that.

  “I suppose I do need to offer an introduction,” Baird said, taking a half-step aside. “This is my apprentice, Rowan.”

  Baird gestured openly towards Rowan, who bowed and introduced himself.

  “Greetings. I am Rowan.” Rowan rose and met the eyes of all those focusing their attention on him. He felt uncomfortable being the focus of so many, but resisted the urge to shift or move, trying to appear calm, as though he belonged where he was and he deserved the honors given to him.

  Lord Evans eyed him with interest. He seemed ready to question Rowan, but Baird spoke before he had the chance.

  Rowan half listened as Baird recounted the same story he had given each time they had been stopped throughout the evening. His master focused on how he met Rowan and their travels together. He did not speak of how he had come to be in the Vale.

  Rowan kept his silence as it was not his place to talk. He made an effort to listen to the conversation, but it was a story that he had lived, and not a very interesting one besides. As Baird told of their stay in Attica, boredom took over. Rowan occupied himself by observing others.

  He looked at Lord Evans, expecting the man to be listening intently, but the lord had turned his back and was walking away. He glanced backwards, but Rowan avoided his gaze, instead catching the eye of Princess Eliza. Rowan quickly looked away.

  He glanced about the room, avoiding the princess. Standing in a corner, away from the rest of the guests, was Gannon. The man was speaking with someone that Rowan could not see,
and he appeared angry. Rowan watched curiously as Gannon made a gesture and sent the man away, glancing furtively around the room. Gannon’s gaze swept over the king and Baird as they conversed and then he seemed to notice Rowan.

  Their eyes locked for a brief moment before Rowan panicked. He tried to act as though something else occupied his attention. After a moment of staring intently at the far wall, he chanced a glance to see if Gannon had noticed him. Gannon was gone.

  “Rowan, why don’t you entertain Princess Eliza.”

  Baird’s voice brought Rowan’s attention back to where he was and the conversation at hand.

  “I doubt that this conversation will be very enjoyable for either of you,” Baird said, “and you are both of an age. It would be much more enjoyable for the two of you to keep company with each other instead of remaining here.”

  “That sounds like a wonderful idea,” King Alden chimed in. “Let the two younglings go off and enjoy themselves. I am sure that they have much in common and will enjoy each other’s company.”

  Rowan struggled to hide his displeasure. He dared not speak against his master or the king, but he desperately wished not to be sent away again. Not with the princess.

  Apparently Princess Eliza did not have the same qualms about speaking her mind.

  “Father, I am the princess. I am old enough to be a part of the conversations of the state. I would rather remain by your side and be helpful.”

  “Nonsense. You are still young and I will not have you spending your youth focused on matters meant for elders. Why don’t you go off and keep Rowan company? He looks quite fine in his new attire, and the two of you ought to be able to enjoy each other’s company.”

  “Humph.” Eliza protested in a manner very unlike a princess, making it clear that she did not want to leave. But Baird nudged Rowan in her direction and gave her a look.