The Apprentice Page 20

  Rowan lifted the sword and swung it, using his left arm as a counter weight. He tried a few moves but stumbled when, on instinct, he tried to perform a two-handed blow. He nearly dropped the blade, but his grip was strong.

  “No,” Jared said. “That clearly isn’t the kind of sword you need.”

  He took the weapon from Rowan and handed him another. Rowan accepted it, another single-handed sword, and tried swinging it. It was fine until he tried to perform a two-handed swing. The smith took the weapon and gave him another of the same type. It quickly became clear that Rowan was not suited to a single-handed weapon, although the smith made him try each sword that had been brought out.

  “You are clearly not suited to a single-handed blade. Unless, perhaps, you would like to try a dual sword?”

  Baird was quick to respond.

  “No. He will not use two blades. It is a waste of time to master dual blades and I will not have my apprentice using them.”

  “Why not?” Rowan asked. He thought that two blades would be great. Dashing and flashy.

  “It takes more time than it is worth to learn to use them properly. And used improperly, they leave the wielder vulnerable.”

  Rowan trusted his master but found the idea of dual wielding very appealing. Still, he did not press the matter. He watched as Jared took the weapons back inside and brought out several more.

  This time there were several different types.

  “You know him better than I do, Baird,” Jared said as he lay out the swords on a work bench. “Tell me what you think. Should I try something larger that is meant to be used only with two hands or would it be better to stick with a long sword such as yours?”

  “I think Rowan is more suited to a long sword,” Baird said. “Though Sidia is a poor example of what he needs. My sword is too large for him, suited for someone who favors strength over speed.”

  “Yes, you are probably right. The broad sword would supplement his strength, but it would be too heavy to wield with any sort of agility. Besides, I don’t know that the size would be right for him. But let us try, just to be safe.”

  Jared hefted one of the larger swords and let Rowan take it from him. It was not too long, only about the length of Sidia, but the weight required Rowan to use both hands to hold it.

  Before Rowan could even swing it, Jared grabbed it back, saying that it was not going to work. He handed Rowan one that was slightly thinner, less bulky. The hilt was long enough that he could grip it with two hands, but the weight did not require it. The pommel was shaped in the head of an animal.

  “This looks about right. You will definitely need a long sword.”

  Rowan nodded in agreement. Out of all the swords he had tried so far, this one felt the most right. It was long and it was heavy, but with effort he was able to hold it in one hand. As he practiced swinging it around, he found that he was able to move more naturally than before, though the weight and the length took some getting used to.

  “I like this,” Rowan commented. He held the blade out in front of him, enjoying the feel of it. He felt as though he held something powerful. That was what a blade was, after all. It was power.

  “Good. Then it’s decided. I will make you a long sword. I shall have to shape it so that it is a more fitting size and length, but those are details I can deal with myself. I have seen enough to know what you will need.”

  Rowan offered the sword back to Jared, who took the blade and returned it inside along with the others.

  “I have all that I need from the two of you,” Jared said. “I have another sword to make now, so I must return to my work.”

  “Thank you,” Rowan said, bowing to the smith.

  “If it had been anyone but your master, I would have refused them on the spot. As it is, you should consider yourself lucky. I am a master and my services are in constant demand. Baird was good to ask for this, to ask for me. You will have a great blade.”

  Jared turned away from Rowan to address Baird.

  “Just so you know, I consider my debt to you more than paid.”

  Baird nodded and handed his friend a pouch filled with coins.

  “As payment for the work,” he said.

  Jared took the money and returned to the inside of the shop. “I will come and deliver the sword personally when it is complete.”

  * * *

  The days after visiting the forge were trying for Rowan because of the anticipation. He expected Jared to forge his blade that day and present it to him the next. That did not happen.

  “Jared is a master smith,” Baird told him. “He is called on often and he has much to do. Jared always takes his time when forging a blade. He will work on it when he is able to give it the attention that it requires. Be patient.”

  The words were easy to hear but hard to follow.

  Rowan understood that he was not the smith’s highest priority. In fact, it was likely that the coin Baird had given the smith was far less than would have been asked of anyone else. He knew that he should be patient and wait, and he did.

  But it was difficult.

  During the days, Rowan shadowed Baird as he worked. The evenings were often spent practicing anything from archery to wrestling, though they often focused on swordsmanship. Baird would lead Rowan through the sword dance, showing him newer and more difficult forms that could be added to create a strengthening exercise.

  They continued to hold sparring sessions every night, although Baird insisted that they use dulled practice blades so that Rowan could get used to the full weight of a sword. The blades were made of metal and felt every bit as heavy as the real ones that Rowan had held at the forge.

  They were much heavier than what Rowan was used to and he struggled to practice with them.

  More than once they were joined by Princess Elizabeth. It was those occasions which Rowan found the hardest to deal with.

  He felt that after their encounter during the feast they had developed what he considered a mutual understanding. They were able to tolerate each other’s presence, but Rowan still felt awkward around her and preferred when she was not around.

  It was not until the week’s end that they received word from Jared.

  It was well past midday and Rowan had just begun sparring with Baird. To his annoyance, the princess had chosen to watch the two of them fight, and several guards had joined her. The soldiers were quiet, making comments at the appropriate times, but their presence was unnerving for Rowan. He disliked being watched.

  The princess was not helping either. She would openly cheer for Baird during the match, distracting him and making it difficult to focus.

  “Sir Baird!”

  The soldier’s call broke Baird’s concentration, almost allowing Rowan to land a blow. But his master was quick and a very skilled swordsman. Rowan’s blow was parried and Baird disengaged and retreated, calling a halt to the duel.

  Rowan straightened and pulled off his training helm. When using the blunted weapons, Baird insisted on wearing protective armor. Rowan accepted. He wore a helm and shoulder plates, wrist guards, and a light cuirass which he shrugged out of.

  “What is it?” Baird asked. He too had shrugged out of his cuirass.

  “Sir. You have a message from the blacksmith Jared. He waits for you at the front gate.”

  “Thank you for the message,” Baird said. He turned to Rowan. “I think that’s enough sparring for now. Shall we go and see what Jared has brought?”

  “Yes,” Rowan said, putting the practice blades away.

  He was anxious to see what the sword would look like, but he was also afraid that he might not like it.

  What if it doesn’t fit me?

  “I will come with you,” Eliza chimed in, making it known that she would not take no for an answer.

  Rowan could not think of any reason that the princess should not be allowed to come, but he felt that this was a moment to be shared between him and his master.

  “Eliza, this is something that is meant t
o be between Rowan and myself. It is for him to decide whether or not he is willing to share the moment with others.”

  Eliza pursed her lips and furrowed her brow. On anyone else, the expression would have been silly, but the young princess had an edge about her.

  Baird looked to Rowan.

  “Are you alright with Princess Elizabeth’s presence, or would you prefer to remain alone?”

  Eliza indicated her displeasure with Baird for using her full name, but he pretended not to notice.

  Rowan could tell that Baird was expecting something from him. He didn’t want Eliza to intrude on this moment, but he couldn’t find any reason to justify her exclusion and he didn’t feel that was what Baird wanted him to say. He was silent for a moment as he was caught up in his decision, and then he thought of things in a different way.

  This was definitely supposed to be something shared between a master and his apprentice, but he felt that custom dictated that he pay his respects to royalty. The decision was his to make, but as Baird’s apprentice he was serving the royal authority. As the princess, Eliza was an inescapable presence in his new life. He would have to get used to her eventually.

  Understanding what was expected of him, Rowan nodded.

  “Eliza can accompany us if she chooses to,” Rowan said with reluctance.

  “Yay!” Eliza squealed with joy, jumping up and down. Her actions were like that of a child, though she was only a couple of years younger than Rowan.

  “Let us go. It would be rude to keep Jared waiting for us,” Baird said.

  As they walked off the field, leaving the soldiers behind, Baird spoke so that only Rowan could hear his words. “That was a strong decision. Our choices tell us who we are, and your choice reveals your maturity.”

  “It felt like the right thing to do,” Rowan said.

  “You did not have to let Eliza come with us. I would not have faulted you for denying her. But I believe that you made the right decision. I am proud.”

  Rowan accepted Baird’s praise in silence.

  “Do not leave me behind,” Eliza called to Rowan and Baird as they walked. The princess hurried to catch them, holding her skirts up so that she could walk quickly.

  The three of them made their way to the castle. Rowan and Baird allowed Eliza to lead the way as she was wont to do. Even while wearing a dress, the princess was able to move much quicker than Rowan would have expected.

  Her golden curls bounced as she walked, catching the light of sun. Princess Eliza moved with a surety that was born into her, yet Rowan caught her glancing over her shoulder to see that she was being followed.

  They reached the castle quickly and made their way through its halls.

  “Who is it we are going to see?” Eliza asked.

  “My old friend Jared has come to deliver something to Rowan. The two of us paid him a visit earlier this week.”

  “He is the blacksmith? What is it that he is delivering?”

  The princess spared a glance at Rowan, though she did not speak to him.

  Princess Eliza continued to lead them through the castle halls, and Rowan followed willingly. He could make his way about the castle, but not without help. He had not yet spent enough time wandering the castle halls to know them all. Only the ones that he frequented.

  “You are sure that you do not wish for any food or drink?”

  “I am well, Your Majesty. I thank you for the offer and am honored to pass the time with you.”

  “I will not leave a guest to stand waiting, alone. Besides, I will enjoy seeing your work when it is passed on.”

  The three of them entered the main hallway that would take them to the northern grounds where the front gate was. As they walked into the hall, they found King Alden speaking with Jared.

  The smith looked incredibly different now that his skin was not blackened by smoke and covered in sweat. Both men stopped talking as Rowan and the others entered the room. He wondered what the king was doing here.

  “I’m glad you two finally came,” Jared said, turning to face the trio. As he angled his body, Rowan saw that he held a long box wrapped in some sort of fine cloth. “And I see you brought the little princess along with you.”

  “Father, what are you doing here?” Eliza asked.

  “I heard that Jared had arrived, so I thought it would be polite to come and say hello,” the king responded. “We began talking and then the three of you arrived.”

  “Oh,” Eliza responded, bored with her father’s response, but becoming excited as she eyed the box the smith held. “What is that?”

  “This is what brought me to the castle, Princess. Unfortunately it is not for you. I came to deliver this to Rowan,” Jared said, hoisting the box up into his arms. Rowan watched with fascination as Jared pulled the cloth away and opened the case, revealing a beautiful blade covered by an ornate sheath.

  “It’s so nice,” Eliza said.

  “Yes, it is,” Baird agreed.

  “Take it,” Jared said, holding the case out to Rowan.

  Rowan hesitantly lifted the sword from the box and took a moment to enjoy the feel of it in his hands. In one hand he held the metal sheath and with the other he gripped the hilt of the sword. He wrapped his fingers around the grip, almost perfectly sized to his hand. Some sort of leather was wound about the hilt, held in place by wire.

  In a single smooth motion, Rowan grasped the sheath and pulled the blade free, gasping as he revealed a blade that was as black as night.

  “How did you—”

  “I do not know for sure why it turned out black, though I have an idea,” Jared said. “I used the sky-fallen stone you once gave to me. It produced a surprising amount of strong metal, which seemed as though it existed to be worked on. It seemed fitting, as the blade is for your apprentice.”

  Baird nodded his assent. Rowan wondered what his master thought about the smith using a gift to create the blade that he now held.

  “I was unsure of how the metal from your sky stone would work, but had it failed I would have let it become the secondary forge, to be donated. Luckily, my worries were not necessary and the work was suitable for a principal forge.”

  “You used a foreign metal to forge a blade? That is unlike you,” Baird said. “You have always preferred to spend your time and effort to create a single, superior product. If this had not worked, you would have had to forge a blade anew.”

  “I was curious as to the outcome. This just happened to be an opportunity to work with the metal you gave me.” Despite his words, the smith sounded as though he truly had been invested in his work. It showed in the way he watched the blade in Rowan’s hands.

  “I did not intend for it to appear as it does, but I think it came out beautifully and there is nothing wrong with the metal. In fact, it seems to be stronger than normal steel. It will not wear as easily as a normal blade, though I would urge you to tend to it often. This blade is unique, forever marked as yours.”

  Rowan held the sword out, feeling its weight. It had the weight of a true sword, but at the same time it felt light in his hands. Light enough that he could wield it with a single hand if he wished.

  “I made the blade lighter than most, though it still has enough weight to give power to its blows,” Jared said. “You have a very unique style of swordsmanship, so I tailored the sword to it. The grip is a hand and a half and the blade itself is just slightly shorter than others so that it can be used primarily with one hand, but can be gripped with two if you need to.”

  “Interesting,” Baird mused.

  Rowan placed the sheath down and grasped the sword with both hands. The hilt was just long enough to allow for a double grip, but it felt perfect sitting in his hands. The lower half was worked metal, cool to the touch, and the upper portion was wrapped with black leather and silver wire.

  The pommel was set with a red stone.

  The blade was just the right length. When Rowan held it out, the sword felt like an extension of his arm. It felt right. />
  He longed to swing it, but with people surrounding him, he had no room to do so. But even holding it still, he could tell that it was perfect.

  Rowan returned the blade to its sheath and placed both back in their box.

  “It is magnificent,” he said.

  “That’s good. I like to know that my work is appreciated,” Jared said.

  “May I see the sword, Rowan?” Baird asked.

  Rowan handed the weapon to his master hilt first, allowing Baird to pull the sword free from the sheath. The blade seemed to sigh as Baird released it.

  In the hands of his master, Rowan’s blade looked small. Baird could not hold the sword with two hands and it was only just longer than the length of his arm.

  “Move to the side for a moment,” Baird said, moving away from everyone to stand in the center of the room. He swung the sword in small arcs faster than Rowan could follow, finishing with a lunge.

  “This truly is a fine blade,” Baird said, sheathing the blade in the case that Rowan held out. “Did you give it a name, Jared?”

  “A name?” Rowan asked. It had not occurred to him that his blade might need a name.

  “No,” the smith replied. “I tried, but nothing seemed to fit. Besides, it seems more appropriate to allow Rowan to name his own blade.”

  Everyone looked to Rowan, who looked down at the weapon, studying the intricate details on the sheath as though they might offer him a name. He thought for a moment, pondering titles for his weapon. Steelgrim, Shadowlance, Darkness, Striker. None of them fit very well, though he liked the idea of Striker.

  “I think the name should be elegant, since the sword is so pretty,” Eliza chimed in. With her words came inspiration.

  “Tenro.” Rowan breathed the name as though the word held power, trying the sound of it. The name seemed to fit and as Rowan spoke it aloud, he knew that the title was right.

  “A light name for such a dark blade,” Baird said. “I like it.”

  “It sounds heavenly,” Eliza said. The king nodded in agreement.

  “Then that shall be the name of your blade: Tenro.”

  Chapter 17