The Apprentice Page 2

  Upon hearing his name, the large man pushed himself up and out of his seat to greet whoever had come to see him. When Horus caught sight of Rowan’s father and the two boys, a smile broke out across his face and he returned the greeting.

  “Halloo. I haven’t seen you around town for a while, Brennon. Are these your sons?”

  “Yes. This is Petar, my firstborn, and this is Rowan, my second.”

  “Hello,” Rowan said, echoing Petar’s greeting. He gave a slight bow to Horus in order to customarily show his respect for the elder man.

  “It’s good to meet Brennon’s sons.” Horus said, emphasizing the plural. “I didn’t know that you had two boys. Is there anything else you’re keeping from me?”

  “Nothing of importance,” Brennon said. “But Horus, there is a reason I came. Has there been any word of traders? I have extra crops from the late harvest and I am looking to sell.”

  “Ah yes! I s’pose it is not quite the end of the season yet, and there is still time for traders to visit. But I would not wait on them. I do not think it likely that they will come. A traveler visited recently and when we asked, he made no mention of trading caravans or other travelers.”

  “I expected as much,” Brennon said. “But I wanted to be sure. Some outside trading would have been nice, and I am sure the village would welcome news of the country at large.”

  “Of course, of course,” the large man agreed. “It has been so long since we have had any real news at all that we would welcome the chance to hear what has been happening outside of our isolated section of the country.”

  “Since there won’t be any traders coming to town, can you tell me who would be looking to trade?” Rowan’s father asked.

  “Yes, yes…Of course,” Horus said. “Myself, for one. Let me think for a moment…I know Ol’ Hester and summa her family was paying a decent price for ‘taters and greens. And it might be that there are a few others who would welcome some extra crops. What do you have?”

  Brennon listed off some of what they had harvested. Horus scratched his head and gazed off into the distance as he thought. The big man began listing off some crops and prices, to which Rowan’s father listened intently, nodding every so often as he took in the information.

  Rowan tried to listen but he was soon bored and began to tune the large man out. His brother was able to pay attention, but Petar had a more vested interest in the topic. When they were finished, Brennon gave Horus a coin and thanked him for his help.

  “So what do we do now?” Rowan asked.

  “I still have business in town. I need to go and find some tools and things that need to be bought, which might take a while. Why don’t the two of you go off and occupy yourselves. Petar, I know you wanted to purchase some things and Rowan, you have been begging for an opportunity to leave the farm, so use this as a reprieve.”

  Rowan nodded in agreement, though he had not failed to notice his father’s remark.

  “We will meet back at the cart when the sun begins to fall.”

  Chapter 2

  Their day in the village went well enough. After they left Brennon, Rowan and Petar walked around and enjoyed themselves, but Petar quickly abandoned Rowan to go off in search of his girl. Rowan could not begrudge his brother, though. Alone, he spent the day wandering aimlessly through the streets.

  The day eventually came to an end and they all left the village, loading several new tools and other items into the cart. Their return took much longer than it had that morning, and Rowan spent much of the journey teasing his brother. Their father chastised them for being foolish, but there was no true annoyance in his tone.

  Once back, Rowan and Petar unloaded the cart while their father checked on the animals. When all was done, they supped together and ended their day.

  The next morning brought with it a cold wind and a feud.

  Rowan awoke and had breakfast with his brother and father after his morning chores. Everything was fine until an offhand comment from his father.

  “Yesterday was a nice reprieve, but we should not get used to such luxuries.” He looked pointedly at Rowan. “I will need the both of you to help me run this farm, and to one day keep running it when I grow too old.”

  “What are you saying, Father?” Rowan asked.

  “I am saying that this trip ought to have gotten all this nonsense of travelling and leaving this farm behind. We have taken a day off, a much needed day I grant you, but you will be remaining here with your brother and myself.”

  Rowan couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

  “What do you mean? Do you think that going into the village is the same as travelling out and being on my own?”

  “Rowan, you allow yourself to enjoy notions of fantasy and grandeur. You wish to be elsewhere, to live a different life. That is understandable, but you are needed here. Your yearning will pass.”

  After that, Rowan had gone outside. He thought of his chores, but he was not in the mood to do farm work. He just couldn’t.

  * * *

  It was not until late evening, when the sun was close to the horizon, that Rowan arrived back within sight of home. His father would not be happy with him. He had been gone for a long time and his absence meant that less work had been accomplished during the day.

  The evening air was uncommonly cool and damp, and the winds were beginning to howl as Rowan trudged towards the house. As he approached, someone shouted at him.

  “Hey, Rowan, where were you this time?”

  Rowan looked up just in time to see Petar running towards him. His brother barreled into him and they both fell to the ground. They rolled over several times as they wrestled, coming to a stop with Petar pinning Rowan down.

  Petar laughed as Rowan struggled to free himself. Eventually, Rowan managed to throw his brother off and get up. The two of them were covered with dirt and grass.

  “So, where were you? I was worried that I’d have to go out and find you if you didn’t come back soon.” Petar looked at Rowan, trying to elicit a response.

  “I needed to be alone for a while.” Rowan tried to hide the pain and sadness in his voice. It was only there for a moment before he controlled it, but Petar had caught it. They knew each other too well.

  “You both needed a chance to calm down. I did my best to do most of your chores, but the tools still need to be cleaned and put away.”

  “Alright.” Rowan moved towards the back of the house where the tool shed was.

  “You’re going to owe me for this,” Petar called after him. “I didn’t tell Brennon that I covered most of your work.”

  Rowan silently thanked his brother. He heard the front door open and then slam shut as Petar went back inside, leaving him alone again.

  The farming tools and everything else that had been used were piled up outside the storage shed. Rowan opened the shed, pulled out a rag and then fetched a pail of water so he could begin washing the bladed instruments.

  Rowan did his work by candlelight, and was glad when he finished. The moon were hidden behind a black cloud that left the night cold and shrouded in darkness. A fine mist hung in the air, blown about by the wind as it began to get stronger.

  Rowan hurried inside with his candle, using his hand to protect the flickering flame. Inside, he found Petar and Brennon eating at the table. A fire was burning in the hearth, spreading warmth throughout the room. They both looked up when he entered.

  “I put the tools away,” Rowan said simply. The door slammed shut behind him.

  “And the rest of the chores?”

  Rowan shot a glance at Petar. “They’re finished.”

  “Good.”

  Rowan waited for his father to say something more, but it seemed that nothing else was going to be said. Brennon had returned to his meal, and Rowan felt that he had been given silent permission to join them. Setting the candle down on the table, Rowan took a plate and served himself a cut of meat with some bread and an apple.

  Dinner was an awkward scene f
or Rowan. Not a word was spoken about their earlier argument. He did not want to be the one to bring it up, because he didn’t know what to say. So it hung in the air, a problem to be ignored.

  He finished eating quickly, grabbed the candle and went to his room, where he closed himself off from the others. Rowan used his flame to light several larger candles spread throughout the room. Once he felt there was enough light, Rowan placed the flame on his desk and pulled a blanket around himself. Cold permeated through the walls, and outside the weather was beginning to turn bad. The wind was now howling and rain fell much harder than it had earlier. He pulled his legs close to his body for warmth.

  In a little under a year, he could leave this place and go somewhere else. He loved his father and his brother, and he would miss them deeply, but he had to leave. Life in the Vale was suffocating him.

  He had pondered how to go about leaving, for it would require a sum of money that he did not have. He had yet to figure that out. He also had no idea where he would go. But living within the valley, he felt confined.

  Knock!

  The knocking came from the front of the house. It shook Rowan from his thoughts. Who could be all the way out here at this time? It was almost an hour’s walk to the nearest house and the town was even farther. No one would travel that distance in weather like this.

  Rowan opened his door to see Brennon speaking with someone that he had never seen before.

  The stranger was tall and well built. His black hair was like that of a raven’s and hung tied back in a ponytail. He carried a traveling pack on his back and at his hip was a long, ornate sheath encasing the blade of a sword. The sheath had the word Sidia inscribed vertically in ornate golden runes. Rowan looked from the blade back to the man. His posture was relaxed and yet his gaze seemed to travel around, alert, taking in every detail of his surroundings.

  Brennon finished conversing and then came over to Rowan.

  “The man claims that he is in need of shelter from the storm, and bandages for some wounds that he has taken.” Brennon glanced back towards the man now standing just inside the doorway, his gaze focused on the sword. “He has given the name Baird, and he is willing to compensate us for our trouble. I told him that he may stay in your room, so I need you to set a place for him to sleep.”

  Rowan nodded. He was not happy about sharing his room with a stranger, but the man was willing to pay. They could use the money to buy tools and supplies, rather than having to trade for them.

  The conversation over, his father turned away to stoke the fire so that the man could warm himself and dry his cloak, which looked to be soaked through. Rowan left to gather some straw for a mattress and blankets to use as sheets. There was not much, and what they did have was not of the best quality, but it would serve well enough. The stranger’s cloak hung by the fire when he returned but the stranger was nowhere to be seen. Rowan went to his room intending to make up the man’s bed, and when he opened the door he found the man inside and reading one of his books.

  “What are you doing?” Rowan dropped what he was carrying and grabbed the book. It was a tattered hand-bound thing, one where he had scribbled in notes and thoughts throughout the margins. “You should ask before taking things that don’t belong to you.”

  He returned the book to its proper place before going back to pick up the bandages and extra bedding. He set the blankets on top of the make-shift straw mattress and walked over to his own bed.

  “You write well for one of your age. I am curious, who taught you?” The man's gaze focused intently on Rowan.

  “No one taught me. I learned on my own.”

  “That is quite an accomplishment. I required several years of hard tutelage before I was able to read and write such things.” The stranger gathered the bandages that Rowan had brought. He rolled up his shirt, where he had dirty bandages wrapped around his waist. He worked quickly to unwrap the soiled bandages and cover a deep gash in his side with the new, clean ones. Rowan wondered at the wound, which seemed too straight and deep for any branch or animal to have caused, but he raised no question.

  “I cannot read all of it, only some. Besides, it does me little good,” Rowan said, gazing absently at the runes on the man’s sheath. The stranger followed his gaze.

  “That is Sidia. I received it as a gift from my friend on the day I rose to knighthood, a man who is something of an artist at making blades. He lives in the capitol.”

  “Where is that?” Rowan asked. He had never been outside the valley. The farthest he had gone was just past the town.

  “You do not know of Estoria? Have you never travelled?”

  “No. This is my home and there has never been any reason to go farther than Corrinth. Traders come and they tell stories of the lands beyond the Vale, though.”

  “But you wish to be able to leave?” the stranger inquired.

  There was a moment of silence before Rowan answered.

  “Yes.”

  Why was he speaking of such things with a stranger? He had only just met this man, and yet he had already told him of his deepest desire. Rowan felt good saying it, though. He could not talk with his father, and Petar planned on following in their father’s stead. His brother had a life planned here in Corrinth. He listened when Rowan needed to talk, and even sympathized, but he did not understand.

  Rowan lay back and closed his eyes, resolving that he would leave his home when he woke the next day. As the knight was leaving, Rowan would follow and travel with him.

  Outside, the wind howled and a light shower was falling. He listened to the sound of the rain. The storm had come.

  Chapter 3

  Rowan woke up early the next morning. The air was cold, so he chose to lie in bed for a time to enjoy its warmth and comfort. He had not slept well with the thundering storm and the anxious excitement about his decision. He had fantasized about his new life, and fantasy had led to worrying. What if the knight refused him? Eventually Rowan had been too tired to stay awake any longer, but even his dreams were filled with thoughts of his future.

  With this on his mind, Rowan glanced over to where the stranger slept, only to find an empty space. Rowan worried that the man might have left, but most of the stranger’s belongings were still lying beside the makeshift bed. He must have risen earlier and left Rowan to sleep alone.

  Rowan spent a short while longer in his bed before he decided that it was time to wake up and face the day ahead of him. He threw back the covers and sat up, giving himself another moment to wake while he rubbed his eyes. His stomach growled as he went to wash and he resolved to make himself breakfast once he was clean.

  He splashed the water on his face and shivered as the icy liquid ran down his neck. The cold helped to clear the drowsiness from his mind. He dunked his entire head under the water, relishing the calm feeling it brought him. He continued to wash the rest of his body and then he put on a change of clothes before going to make himself something to eat.

  The house was still dark; neither Brennon nor Petar were up yet. Rowan made his way down the hallway quickly and quietly, trying not to wake his father or his brother. As he fixed himself a breakfast of buttered toast and eggs, he thought about how he was going to tell Brennon that he had decided to leave. There was no doubt in Rowan’s mind that Brennon would oppose his decision. He started to feel guilty thinking of all the work that was going to be left undone. The harvesting season was almost upon them and Brennon would need both Petar and Rowan to help with the crops and other household chores. But even though he felt guilty, Rowan knew that this was his chance to leave. He had the opportunity to go somewhere and if he didn’t do it now, then he never would. There would always be something tying him down and keeping him here. So he put his feelings of guilt aside and took his breakfast outside.

  The storm had abated and though the morning air was cool and misty, it was not raining. He was surprised to find himself alone. Rowan had been hoping to find the knight so he could speak with him. Since the man was nowhere
to be seen, however, Rowan returned to the kitchen to ponder his problems while he ate.

  After a short while alone, Rowan heard a door open and close. He listened to the footsteps as they made their way towards the kitchen and sighed with relief when it was Petar who joined him.

  “Hello, Petar,” Rowan said, acknowledging his brother.

  “Good morning,” Petar replied, fixing his own breakfast. A short silence followed. Rowan didn’t know what to say. Should I act normal and try to avoid the inevitable conversation or broach the subject of leaving now? In some ways, Rowan felt that it was going to be harder and more uncomfortable to talk to Petar.

  Petar finished making his food and sat down across from Rowan. They both ate in silence until Petar decided to speak.

  “Where is the stranger?”

  “He was gone when I woke, but his belongings are still here.”

  “Where do you think he went?” Petar asked between bites. “We live in the middle of the forest. There is nowhere to go, and even if there was, he does not know the land.”

  “Perhaps he woke early and wanted to explore the forest.”

  “Maybe he had to relieve himself,” Petar joked. “What I am truly curious about is where the man came from.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Like I said, we live far from any other villages and there are no cities in the Vale. What could bring a stray traveler here, of all places?”

  “You should not pry into the business of others.”

  Brennon stood in the doorway. Rowan wondered how long his father had been there. How long he had been listening?

  “What brings that man to our land is no business of ours. If he wishes to speak of it, then he may do so. Otherwise, I will have the two of you acting with courtesy and respect and not troubling our guest.”

  Brennon filled his plate, leaving plenty for the absent guest. He sat down with his boys and ate. Baird, the stranger, did not return for over an hour. When he came back, he did not address his absence. He took what food was left and thanked them for the courtesy of a meal, though it had long since grown cold.