The Apprentice Read online

  Rowan was not the only one present. There were others gathered, some training and some performing other various exercises, and it seemed that more were coming.

  Rowan watched as others began to train, hesitant to participate and unsure of what he should or could do on his own. To occupy his time, Rowan stretched and began performing the sword dance. He had become used to performing the motions while holding his blade, but Baird had taught him that the sword dance did not require a weapon.

  It was not long before Darius found him again.

  “I see that you have found a way to occupy yourself. That is good, but now is the time for training. Come.”

  Rowan followed Darius out onto the fields, where boys were beginning to gather in groups.

  “Each day you will spend your hours here, training with the other boys. In groups, you will work on various skills under the guidance of experienced trainers. They will teach you and you will learn.”

  “Will I have no free time?”

  “You will have free time to train or exercise as you see fit. You may even choose to rest or work with others. But your free time is limited and you are not to leave the barracks or the training grounds.”

  “So I cannot visit my master?”

  “If Sir Baird comes for you then you may see him, but you cannot seek him out. You are not to leave the training grounds without the approval of a trainer.”

  Rowan fumed to himself. He would not enjoy the life of a trainee in which every hour of the day was planned.

  Darius approached a trainer who was speaking to a group of younger boys. Looking around, it seemed that most of the groups were separated by age. Off to his left, a group comprised of boys closer to his own age had formed a ring, watching as several pairs wrestled with each other. Their cries sounded out across the fields.

  “Today you will learn your routine and meet the trainers and your fellow trainees. We will begin here. Trainer Caius is going to work with this group on their archery skills. You will train with them while I observe. Afterwards we will move on.”

  “What are you observing?”

  “You. I need to know what your skill set is and how proficient you are in all of the areas in which our trainees train. Today you will practice every skill so that I can see what I have to work with.”

  Darius turned away from Rowan to speak with the Trainer Caius.

  “You are new.”

  Rowan looked to the boy who had spoken to him. All eyes but those of the two trainers were on him. The boy who had spoken stood closest to Rowan.

  “My name is Rowan. I am new to the capitol.”

  “You’re older,” the boy stated. “Why are you here?”

  “I am here to train with you. Darius—”

  “I know you are here to train.” The boy cut Rowan off. “I meant why are you training with us? You should be with them.”

  “I—”

  “Quiet, the lot of you!”

  Heads turned towards the two trainers.

  “For those of you who are curious, this boy is Rowan. He is going to show us all his skill with a bow today.”

  The younger boys stared at Rowan, wondering if perhaps he was more than just a boy in training like them.

  Rowan looked to Darius, who had stepped back and stood with hands clasped behind him. He nodded once, but no further acknowledgement came. He just stood and watched Rowan.

  “Take this.” Trainer Caius handed Rowan a bow. “And these too,” he said, handing Rowan a quiver of arrows. “You’ll need arrows if you want to hit your target.”

  Rowan took the quiver and slung it over his shoulder.

  “It’ll be much easier if you belt it about your waist.”

  Rowan took the trainer’s advice and belted the quiver at his waist. Indeed, the arrows would be much easier to pull, but the weight felt odd to Rowan. He had spent his years hunting with a quiver at his back and he knew that he would not be able to run or hunt with arrows at his side.

  “You look like you have used a bow before.”

  “I am from the Vale. Hunting was something that I learned from my brother.”

  “Well, we will see just how skilled you are. Your target is there, about forty paces out.” The trainer pointed to one of several targets out in the field. It was far, but Rowan felt confident. He knew how to use a bow and his target was standing still on an open field. There were no trees obstructing him and little wind blowing.

  “You have fifteen arrows. Take them all and we will see if you can hit the target.”

  Rowan felt a number of eyes on him as the trainer stepped back. Darius was judging him, the younger trainees were observing him, wondering how the newer, older boy would do, and Trainer Caius watched with an impassive gaze.

  Rowan fingered the bow in his hand. It was longer than his own bow, and slightly thinner. Yet it felt heavier. He held the bow up and pulled at the string, testing the tension. The string resisted him.

  Nocking an arrow, Rowan raised his arm and sighted his target. He released a breath and held himself steady just as Petar had taught him. He pulled back on the arrow, forcing the bow to bend. He eyed his target again, doing his best to judge the distance and the angle, and then he released the arrow.

  The bowstring went taught with a twang and the arrow shot into the air. Rowan watched as it arced and flew towards the target, striking the ground directly to the left of the target. Rowan sighed with disappointment. He could hear the muffled laughter from behind him.

  Rowan pulled another arrow, quickly nocking it and aiming at the target, adjusting his aim slightly to the right. This time his arrow flew true and struck the target on the right side. Emboldened, Rowan quickly pulled a third arrow and shot, followed by a fourth and a fifth. When he was done, only three arrows had missed their target. Rowan knew that if he had taken his time while shooting, he probably would only have missed his first shot, but he had done well enough to satisfy the trainers.

  “Well done. Well done,” Caius said once Rowan had retrieved his arrows. The trainer had set the other boys to shooting at similar targets and now stood with Rowan and Darius. The head trainer had said little in the way of praise, but he seemed satisfied with Rowan’s display.

  “There is still much that I can teach him, but he knows how to handle a bow. And he can shoot better than some of the others that are his age,” Caius said to Darius. “His skill is rough and unrefined, but he will do well enough.”

  “That is good. Thank you for your time, Caius.” Darius bowed slightly and the other trainer nodded courteously.

  “Come,” Darius said to Rowan. “Your day is only just begun.”

  * * *

  Rowan was taken around the training fields, performing various exercises for strength, agility, and endurance. He was made to lift weights and run. Darius had him climb a rope. After Rowan had gone through a number of physical exercises and Darius was satisfied, he was passed from one trainer to another so that he could show his skills and work alongside others in a group. While the trainers mostly treated Rowan with an attitude of indifference, he received much attention from the other trainees. His skills were tested and with every new group that Rowan joined, he found himself growing more and more weary. Darius gave him no respite and each new trainer worked him as though he was fresh from rest, trying to push him to his limits. Some would single him out, testing him while the others watched, as Caius had done. Others would pit him against other boys and win or lose, Rowan would find himself either humiliated or hated.

  While Rowan was extremely proficient with a blade and he had previous experience using a bow, he was no more than average in most other areas. It was not unexpected, as Rowan had lived his life on a farm while many of the other trainees had been working for years. Still, Rowan found himself frustrated every time his skills were found lacking. He was as strong and quick as most other boys, but when asked to throw a knife or wield an axe or a spear, he made a fool of himself and only his quick reflexes kept him from appearing c
ompletely useless.

  Rowan’s redemption came when he was given to a trainer named Torrhen to test his skill with a blade. Torrhen’s group was comprised mainly of boys who were of an age with Rowan, including both Erik and Byron, the boy who had tripped him earlier.

  “He is Baird’s apprentice. Is it not safe to assume that he knows how to wield a blade?” Torrhen asked Darius respectfully. It was clear that Torrhen would test Rowan as Darius saw fit, but the trainer seemed annoyed at the intrusion and was hesitant to match Rowan against another boy.

  Rowan listened to their exchange with disinterest, having learned that his opinion was worth little. Darius was determined to test him thoroughly. Glancing towards Torrhen’s group of boys, it was clear that he was not the only one who was listening in on the trainers’ conversation. Though no one approached him or spoke to him, Rowan was the center of much attention. He was a new presence and a disruption to the normal routine.

  “Perhaps it would be better if he were to use a practice dummy? He could show you his forms and work without causing disruption.”

  “Enough, Torrhen. The boy has been learning blade work from Baird and I want to see just how much he learned. He may be skilled with a blade but does he know his forms? Does he use his forms when fighting? Does he know the proper etiquette for sparring against an opponent? I wish to see him spar with one of the other boys, then I will take him and leave you to continue your work.”

  Torrhen nodded wordlessly and turned towards the rack of practice weapons at his back. He retrieved two wooden practice swords and thrust one at Rowan.

  “Finn!”

  A boy near to Rowan’s size and age stepped forward. He had long blonde hair and wore a confident smirk.

  “You will spar with Rowan so that Trainer Darius and I can gauge his skill.”

  “Yes, Trainer.” Finn glanced at Rowan. “Shall I fight to win or should I let Rowan take the lead?”

  This earned Finn some laughter from the other boys, causing his smirk to widen.

  “Spar as you please. Rowan is Baird’s apprentice; he knows how to wield a blade.”

  Trainer Torrhen handed Finn his practice blade and turned to Rowan.

  “You know how to duel?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Don’t make a fool of yourself.” Trainer Torrhen stepped aside, leaving Rowan and Finn facing each other. “Let’s be done with this quickly so that we may move on.”

  Rowan regarded Finn warily, keeping a defensive stance. Rowan knew nothing about Finn and how the boy fought. Judging that his opponent would have a reach that was similar to his own, Rowan took a step forward, placing him just outside of lunging distance.

  As Rowan moved, Finn stepped forward and lunged hastily. The attack fell short, forcing Finn to take an extra step to make up the distance. Rowan reacted instantly. He took a half step backwards, knocked aside Finn’s outthrust blade, and moved inside the boy’s guard. With speed and precision, Rowan cut at the legs and stomach and stepped forward, placing himself behind Finn. He pivoted on his right foot, struck his opponent across the back, and retreated into a defensive stance.

  Finn stumbled and fell to one knee. There was sudden silence. Rowan could feel the eyes of every stunned boy watching him. Even the trainers had nothing to say. Rowan took some small sense of satisfaction in the look of annoyance on Trainer Torrhen’s face. Darius, however, watched impassively. If he was surprised or pleased, he gave no sign.

  Finn pushed himself to his feet and turned to face Rowan. His smirk was gone. “Rrah!” The boy bellowed with rage and attacked. Finn was strong and quick, but Rowan was able to parry the blows as they came. As quick as Finn was, Rowan was quicker. After sparring exclusively with Baird, Rowan was used to fighting someone much faster and more powerful than himself, someone who had a much longer reach.

  His experience with Baird had also accustomed him to a certain style. Rowan was used to anticipating his master’s attacks to react more quickly. Several times he found himself moving to block an attack that was not coming. He was quick enough to recover most of the time, but Finn was able to strike him more than once. Yet for each blow Rowan received, he gave several back. The fight was very much one-sided and within several minutes, Trainer Torrhen called for a halt. It was clear that Rowan was the better fighter.

  “You fought well,” Rowan said. And he meant it; Finn had fought well. But Rowan had surprised even himself. He knew that he was good with a sword. Baird had trained him well, and was still training him to become even better. Yet he had not thought himself better than the other boys. Rather, he had expected to be only as good as they were. His own skill surprised him.

  Rowan saluted Finn, a gesture to honor one’s opponent. Finn scowled and threw his weapon to the ground, ignoring Rowan’s salute and offering no such gesture in return. Without a word, he turned and walked away.

  “Will that satisfy you, Darius?” Torrhen spoke angrily as Finn retreated. He looked at Rowan as though this was somehow his fault.

  Darius nodded and, without a word, indicated that Rowan was to follow him.

  Rowan glanced at Trainer Torrhen and chose to return his practice weapon to the rack rather than hand it over to the trainer. He then jogged after Darius. His day was not over yet.

  Chapter 19

  It was late in the day when Rowan finished with Darius. The evening hours had not yet begun, meaning that Rowan would have to wait for dinner. The trainers had long since released the other boys, allowing them to spend the rest of the day as they saw fit. Many continued to train while others rested or socialized.

  “I am done with you for the day,” Darius said. “You are free to train as you see fit until the evening meal, after which you will return to the barracks. There is a curfew imposed on all trainees. If you are caught out after dark, you will be punished.”

  Rowan nodded his assent. He did not like the idea of a curfew, but he had nowhere to go in the middle of the night and voicing his displeasure would only make his life harder.

  “Am I allowed in the woods?” Rowan indicated the wooded area on the opposite side of the fields. He had no reason to go exploring, but he wanted to know what was off limits just in case he decided to spend his time alone.

  “You are not allowed in the kingswood without the permission of myself or another trainer. Exercises are occasionally conducted in there when we want to teach tracking and hunting, but the forest is forbidden to you while alone. Am I understood?”

  “Yes, Trainer Darius.”

  The head trainer stared at Rowan with a piercing glare, but after a moment he appeared satisfied that Rowan would keep his word. Darius turned and continued speaking. “In the morning, you will rise with the other boys and break your fast. When you have finished eating, you will make your way to the fields and perform warm-up exercises with the other boys before you begin training.”

  Darius then left Rowan to himself. He stood alone on the practice fields. Most of the boys were gone, likely back to the barracks, but there were still others who had elected to continue training. Several boys stood shooting targets where Rowan had worked with Trainer Caius. Caius was gone, but another trainer was watching the boys as they practiced. Other boys were wrestling and a few were even sparring with wooden swords.

  Rowan looked around at the emptied fields, trying to find something that would serve to occupy his time. Working all day with Darius had drained him, but the prospect of returning to the barracks to sit and wait for dinner was not appealing. By this time, Rowan recognized most of the equipment on the fields, having practiced with much of it only hours before. He thought about joining the boys who were sparring, but decided against it. They were evenly matched in numbers and skill, and Rowan did not wish to disrupt their group. But practicing with a blade appealed to him, so he turned and made his way back to the barracks to retrieve Tenro.

  Tenro lay on Rowan’s bunk, exactly where he had left it earlier that day. Rowan retrieved the blade from where it rested. As he l
eft the barracks, he found that many were watching him; some with interest, some with curiosity, and no small number with envy. Rowan felt pride at that. He had a blade of his own. It was the symbol of his status and his position as Baird’s apprentice, and he held it proudly.

  A few boys followed Rowan from the barracks to the training fields, but none approached him. They went about their own tasks and Rowan made his way towards the practice dummies. He unsheathed his blade and started the blade dance.

  Though no one stared, Rowan felt as though all eyes were on him, as though he was the center of unwanted attention. He tried to concentrate, focusing only on his blade and on moving through the different stances. Tenro was heavy, but Rowan was growing accustomed to the weight. He finished the motions of the sword dance and gave himself a moment's respite before turning to the nearest practice dummy. Rowan fell into an on-guard stance and was ready to strike when the sound of an approaching voice broke his concentration.

  “Ho there!”

  Rowan turned and found that several boys had approached him. The one who had called out to him was Byron, he remembered. The boy who had tripped him earlier.

  “I am Byron.” The boy stepped forward and gave Rowan an appraising glance, his gaze hovering on Tenro. He wore a smug look, as though introducing himself to Rowan was some great favor. Byron made no introduction for any of the other boys, though they were obviously together as a group.

  “I remember your name,” Rowan said. He did not wish to be rude or insulting, but Byron was not someone that he wished to befriend. At Rowan’s words, Byron’s false smile turned to a frown.

  “You are Baird’s apprentice. Did you know that my father once tried to earn me that position? He failed, of course, as did every other noble and commoner alike who tried to convince Baird to take on an apprentice. I never cared much until you arrived.”