The Apprentice Read online

  “You want my position?”

  “Gods no! I received my own masters and was taught by the best that gold can buy. I don’t care for Baird or his knighthood. I just find myself annoyed by your presence. You have something you should not.” Byron took a step forward, placing himself just outside of Rowan’s reach. The dark haired boy was almost a hand taller than Rowan and he was well muscled. He glanced down at Tenro, then at the scabbard that lay on the ground nearby.

  Byron picked up Tenro’s scabbard, holding it with both hands while he examined it. He held it as he would a blade and swung it, moving in a bastardized version of a form from the sword dance. His movement was faulty and he held himself wrong. Had he not been holding Tenro’s sheath, Rowan might have laughed. But as it was, the situation called for something else.

  “Put that down, please.”

  Byron looked to Rowan. “Why should I?”

  “Put it down.”

  Byron grinned. “As you wish.” He threw the scabbard aside as Rowan watched in anger.

  “Let me see your blade,” Byron said.

  Rowan tensed. “No. Tenro is not meant for you.” He tightened his grip and shifted his shoulders so that the blade was further out of reach. There was a tense moment as Rowan and Byron stared at each other.

  Without warning, Byron’s arm shot forward. Rowan, thinking that the boy was making a grab for Tenro, held the sword away from him. But Byron had not made a grab for the sword, and his fist struck Rowan in the stomach. There was pain, but Rowan ignored it, focusing instead on his opponent. Rowan’s sword arm came forward to strike, instinct driving his reactions. He stopped himself before making a blow, but his motion and his hesitation afforded Byron the opportunity he had been looking for.

  The larger boy grabbed at Tenro and tried to pull it away from Rowan. They struggled for a moment until Rowan rammed his elbow and shoulder into Byron, knocking both boys to the ground. Rowan rolled over and found his feet, ready for a fight. He held himself defensively in case he had to defend himself against the other boys.

  “What is going on here?”

  The voice came from the right. Trainer Torrhen was fast approaching with a mean look in his eyes. His gaze went from Byron to Rowan, though he seemed to see only the blade in Rowan’s hand.

  Rowan straightened and lowered his guard. There would be no further need to defend himself with a trainer present.

  “What happened here?” the trainer demanded.

  One of the other boys spoke. “Trainer Torrhen, he—”

  “My question was not meant for you. I am speaking to these two; the rest of you are dismissed. Return to the barracks.”

  “But—,” the same boy tried to continue, pointing at Rowan as though placing blame.

  “Go now! Or you will stay with them and be a part of this.” Torrhen fixed the boy with a stare that made him flinch. The boy turned and jumped as he realized his companions had already gone. He hurried after them, clearly glad to escape.

  Rowan watched as they retreated, leaving him alone with Byron and Trainer Torrhen.

  “I want to know what happened here.”

  “I was practicing with my blade—,” Rowan began, but his speech was cut off by Byron.

  “He attacked me!”

  The words hung in the air for moment. Rowan found himself speechless at such a blatant lie. He had done nothing wrong. Byron had approached him, confronted him, and caused a struggle.

  Trainer Torrhen looked to Rowan expectantly.

  “That’s a lie. I did not attack him. He approached me and tried to take my blade.”

  Torrhen’s eyes flitted to the blade in Rowan’s hand and his face hardened.

  “Trainees are not allowed weapons. I do not know where you found that blade, but you are not keeping it.”

  “The blade is my own. Trainer Darius gave me permission to train with it.”

  “Is that so? And he gave you permission to fight with it as well?”

  “No,” Rowan responded. Darius had been extremely firm on that point.

  “I do not know why Darius has allowed you such freedom, but I think that this incident will show him that you do not deserve it.” Trainer Torrhen turned to face Byron.

  “Byron, you are to return to the barracks with the others. Tomorrow morning you will find me and I will give you your punishment.” The trainer turned back to Rowan. “You are to come with me to see Darius. We will see what he has to say about this incident.”

  * * *

  “Was blood drawn?”

  Darius stood with his hands clasped behind his back, staring pointedly at Rowan, who sat a few feet away. His gaze was unwavering and he had not once acknowledged the blade resting across Rowan’s lap. Darius had quickly dismissed Trainer Torrhen after hearing all that he had to say.

  “No. No blood was drawn.” Rowan answered truthfully, yet his answer did not seem to please the head trainer.

  Silence hung in the air as Darius said nothing. Rowan shifted in his seat, trying unsuccessfully to find a comfortable position. The chair that Darius had given him felt as though it was made for discomfort. It was the only chair in the room, however, leading Rowan to wonder if Darius himself used it.

  “Earlier this very day, I warned you that the privilege of keeping your blade would require you to act with responsibility. You were forbidden from using your weapon against others, just as you were forbidden from fighting other trainees.”

  Rowan grew cold. Darius had indeed forbidden him from exactly the type of incident that had just occurred.

  “You put me in a difficult position, Rowan. I trust that you were not a willing participant in this evening’s confrontation, but that does not make you innocent. The fact that no one was injured is good. However, I am reluctant to allow you to continue holding your weapon. It would be safer and better kept in my possession.”

  “But I—”

  “Imagine the consequences if someone were to take your sword, Rowan. What if another boy took your blade and misused it? Or if it caused harm to another, whether purposefully or by accident. In any circumstance, you would be held responsible. That is what you risk by carrying your blade.”

  Rowan wished to speak out, to say that he would accept any risk to keep Tenro. But he understood the weight of such a responsibility. He would be responsible for his weapon and any pain or problems that it caused, whether he was at fault or not. It would require his constant attention and supervision just to ensure that it was safe and accounted for, and this would be made even more difficult by the fact that he would not be allowed to carry it with him.

  “May I keep my blade? I am willing to accept the burden of responsibility that comes with it.”

  “Are you truly willing to accept such a burden?” Darius stared at Rowan, searching for hesitation or uncertainty. Rowan held the trainer’s gaze and nodded. He would keep Tenro no matter what the cost.

  “Even if you are willing to accept responsibility for your weapon, I am loathe to allow you to keep it. Your sword is a hazard and a liability. I have no guarantee that you will be able to keep your blade safe. In fact, I know that you cannot do so. Not without locking it away.”

  “Then give me a lock,” Rowan said desperately. “Give me a lock for my chest so that I can secure Tenro. Do that and I can assure you that it will not be taken.”

  “You guarantee that it will not be taken?” Darius appeared thoughtful, giving Rowan hope that he might still be able to keep Tenro.

  “I understand my responsibility, and I will do everything in my power to ensure that my blade is secured. It will not be used without your consent, and not for any reason other than practicing.”

  Darius nodded and Rowan practically sagged with relief, releasing a breath he had not known he was holding. Tenro had become a part of who he was, and losing the blade would be equivalent to losing a hand or one of his legs.

  “I will hold you to your word. If another incident like this occurs, I will take your blade from you and
have it melted for scrap.”

  Rowan gripped the hilt of his sword just a little bit tighter at the thought of Darius destroying it.

  “Now, there is still the matter of this evening’s incident. You fought with one of your fellow trainees.” Darius silenced Rowan’s protestations before he continued. “I understand the circumstances of the argument. You did not initiate the conflict, but that does not excuse the fact that you did fight, and you did so while wielding a blade. I cannot overlook that. You must be punished.

  “For tonight, you will go without dinner. When I see you tomorrow, I will inform you of the rest of your punishment. Now you are to return to the barracks for the evening.” Darius waved Rowan away.

  Rowan, glad to be done with the trainer, stood and bowed before quickly taking his leave. He walked along the path that led from the trainer’s quarters to the barracks. Upon entering the barracks, he found that most of the boys had returned from dinner. Rowan received a number of looks as he entered, Tenro in hand. Most of the boys gave him little more than a cursory glance, curious to see who had entered, but a pair of eyes followed him as he walked the full length of the room.

  Rowan did his best to ignore Byron, but it was difficult not to notice such a hate filled stare. It seemed that Rowan had earned himself his first enemy.

  Chapter 20

  “Where are we going,” Eliza complained. She followed Baird as they walked through the hallways, trying to keep pace with her favorite giant. His pace was quick, which annoyed her. The day was warm and Eliza did not want to soak her laces with sweat.

  “I already told you that we are going to the practice fields,” Baird responded. “It is my duty to check on the soldiers in training.”

  “Do we have to go and do that? It sounds so boring.”

  “Yes.”

  They made their way outside, crossing the grounds and descending to the practice fields where a bunch of boys were fighting and practicing various arts and weapons. It was a hot day and many of them had taken their shirts off while practicing. Eliza scanned the fields for Rowan and found him by himself at the archery range. There were others nearby but it was clear that Rowan was not a part of their group. As she watched him nock an arrow, she wondered if his isolation was self imposed or because he was left out and unaccepted. She winced as she watched him take a shot that went wide of the target, sticking into the grass almost ten feet away. Some of the others laughed as he went to retrieve his arrows. She thought about waving and going to say hello, but Baird was already walking in a different direction, towards Darius, and Eliza hurried to follow him.

  The head trainer was standing on the side of the field closest to them, watching as two boys wrestled. Eliza recognized Erik by his blonde hair. He was fighting against a boy larger than him. Eliza couldn’t think of the other boy’s name, only that she disliked him. She hoped that Erik would win and in her head she cheered him on.

  “Good job, Erik. Byron, show some more effort. You’re bigger than him; you need to use that advantage against your opponent!” Darius shouted at the boys from the sidelines as they circled each other, looking for an opening to attack. He didn’t notice Eliza and Baird approaching until they had reached the field.

  “How is the training going, Darius?” Baird asked. Eliza watched as Darius stiffened and spun to face them. She laughed. Baird could be very quiet and stealthy for a man of his size, and she knew that he was very good at sneaking up on people, so Darius’s reaction was understandable.

  “You should warn me next time you arrive,” Darius said.

  Baird laughed. “That’s why I spoke to you. If I didn’t want you to notice me, then you wouldn’t have.”

  “One day, Baird, you’re going to surprise someone and it’s going to end badly.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time, though it was never me who got hurt. But if that day comes, I’ll be sure that you are the first one to hear about it.”

  “I’ll be sure to gloat and tell you that I was right,” Darius said.

  “Good day, Darius,” Eliza said with a smile. She was supposed to curtsy, but none of her caretakers were present and Baird had long since given up trying to enforce such behaviors.

  “Hello, Princess. What brings you here?”

  “Baird insisted that we come and watch the boy soldiers train. I think it’s boring, but it is better than being stuck with one of the tutors. They are so stuffy and old,” Eliza said, wrinkling her nose at the thought of her lessons.

  “Don’t be rude, Eliza. It is necessary for you to take your lessons in order to learn,” Baird said. He turned to Darius. “I have to come and check on the boys’ progress as they train, especially with the Revel so near. Also, I would like to see how Rowan has been progressing.”

  “Oh yes, I almost forgot that the Revel is approaching,” Eliza said, excited at the prospect of the coming festival. There would be a lot of entertainment, music and dancing, which Eliza always enjoyed. But the main focus of the yearly Revel was the competitions.

  All of the people of Estoria gathered to watch as the young soldiers tested their skills in competition against each other in a wide range of events. There were more traditional skills such as archery, fencing, swordsmanship, and wrestling. But there were also events that focused on different types of skills and skill sets, such as contests of speed, strength, and cunning. Races of various distances were held, some focused on objectives such as tracking or stealth. The Revel spanned the course of a week and it allowed the winners of each event to be honored for their abilities.

  “Yes, it should make for an interesting event this year,” Darius said. “There are many trainees who are quite skilled. Erik and Byron are both entered in several events, and I believe they each have the potential to place.”

  Eliza returned her attention to the wrestling match. The two boys had engaged each other and it appeared as though Byron had the upper hand. They struggled for a moment as they each tried unsuccessfully to pin the other. Byron tried to use his strength to push Erik back, but the smaller boy ducked underneath Byron’s arms and shoved him to the ground, pinning his arms behind his back. Byron struggled, trying to throw Erik off.

  “That’s enough,” Darius barked.

  Erik released his hold on Byron, who shoved the boy off of him and rejected the hand-up that was offered. Eliza watched Byron make his way past Erik and stalk off of the field.

  “Poor sport,” Erik muttered.

  “That was a good match,” Baird said, calling Erik’s attention. The boy’s eyes flitted from Baird to Eliza, registering their presence, which had gone unnoticed until now.

  “Greetings, Sir Baird. Princess Elizabeth.” He greeted each in turn, bowing to both. His gaze lingered on Eliza, causing her to flush lightly.

  “It was indeed a good match,” Darius agreed. “However, I can still see room for improvement from both of you. Talk to me later so that I can show you several areas for you to work on. For now, I suggest that you go and practice some blade-work.”

  “Yes, Trainer Darius.” The boy nodded. Before he left, Erik turned and bowed to Eliza.

  Darius watched Erik jog across the field before he turned back to Eliza and Baird.

  “That boy is one of my best trainees. I know he will do very well during the Revel. He is strong and well trained in many areas, rather than focused on a single skill. He has a natural talent and is well liked. He might have made a good apprentice. Still would, under the right master.”

  “And what of the rest?” Baird asked, giving the head trainer a look that Eliza knew well.

  “There are others that I believe will do very well. Heath is a promising archer,” Darius said, indicating a small, wiry boy who was practicing with a bow. “And there are others: Damien, Soran, Kien, and Andrew. All of them are skilled. And you just saw Byron wrestling with Erik.”

  “Are there any trainees that worry you?”

  “There are some who still have much to learn. But for the most part, they have all fou
nd something they have a particular affinity for or excel in. Not all of them are strong candidates for winning, but as I said before, I think we will have a fine competition this year. There are some strong rivalries that will drive the competition and make for an interesting show.”

  “That is good to hear. The people are always happy to see a good competition,” Baird said.

  “Yes.” Darius nodded in agreement.

  Eliza searched the field for Rowan again. This time she found him completely alone. He had left the archery range and the company of others and moved to the practice dummies. He was practicing the sword, using Tenro to hack and stab at a post.

  “Will Rowan be competing in the Revel?” Eliza asked, looking to Baird for the answer.

  “Participation in the competition is mandatory,” Darius responded.

  “What will he compete in?” Eliza asked.

  “The swordsmanship competition,” both men responded.

  “Rowan is incredibly skilled with a blade, and he continues to improve. He often trains alone because almost none of the others can match his skill,” Darius said. “There are some other boys who have a natural talent for swordsmanship, but I think Rowan is the most likely to win that event. Though he still hasn’t spoken to me about which events he wishes to participate in.”

  “Speaking of my apprentice, how is Rowan doing?” Baird asked. The trio began to slowly make their way across the field as they talked.

  “He is quite skilled and he does well with almost everything that we give him.”

  “But there’s more, isn’t there?”

  Darius hesitated.

  “I don’t think that Rowan is fitting in well with the other trainees. Most of the boys just ignore him, but there are some who may be going out of their way to harass him. I haven’t caught anything yet, and since Rowan is able to handle himself, it hasn’t become an issue. But I worry that eventually something might go wrong.”

  “I thought that might be the case,” Baird sighed. “I had hoped for better, though.”