The Apprentice Read online

  Darius quickly dismissed everyone who was not competing. Only a small group of boys left the barracks to go and observe from the sidelines. The rest, like Rowan, remained with Darius.

  “I am going to say exactly what I said yesterday,” Darius said. “All of you should know which events you are competing in. Once again, I want to see everyone who is competing act honorably. There have already been some questionable actions in this year’s Revel, and I do not want anyone to act in such a way that will dishonor themselves, their training, or their king.

  “With that said, I want each of you to report to the trainer that is overseeing your event. I will be overseeing the swordsmanship competition for today, along with trainers Emid, Torrhen, and Allan.”

  Many of the boys dispersed in order to find the trainers for their own events. Rowan kept close to Darius since he would be demonstrating his blade-work in the swordsmanship competition. He was surprised when he saw Erik. Despite his words the other day, Rowan assumed that with an injured arm, Erik would be out of the competition.

  “You still plan on competing?” Rowan asked his friend.

  Erik stared at Rowan. “It would be a shameful thing to allow such an injury prevent me from continuing.” Erik rubbed his shoulder, which was still swollen and showed some bruising. Erik seemed to know Rowan’s thoughts as he continued. “Do not worry. I have no illusions about my chances of victory or about my ability to compete in some of the other events. But this competition is my chance to prove myself, and this—” Erik indicated his shoulder “—will not hold me back. It is not even my sword arm.”

  Rowan nodded in agreement. It would do no good to try and convince his friend to bow out of the tournament. If Erik felt that he could compete, then Rowan had no right to stop him.

  “Does it pain you?”

  “Yes.”

  Rowan said nothing more. The two of them had grown close over the past weeks and Rowan did not need to voice his sympathy for his friend. Such a feeling went unspoken.

  Soon Darius called the boys to attention in order to describe the structure of the swordsmanship competition.

  “As you can see, there are a great number of competitors,” Darius began. “Because this is one of our largest and most honored events, the swordsmanship competition will span the course of two days. The preliminary bouts will take place today and the finals will be held tomorrow. I will break you into four groups for today’s bouts. From each group, only five will advance to the finals tomorrow. I wish you all the best of luck.” With that, Darius sorted the boys into groups. He worked quickly to separate everyone, making sure that they knew what group they were with and when they would be competing.

  Rowan found himself placed among the third group. He was thankful when Erik was placed in a different group from himself. He did not want to duel against his friend, especially after Erik’s injury yesterday. He worried that Erik might face Byron, but the bully was placed in the fourth group along with Andrew. Rowan was happy for that. Andrew was a skilled swordsman; Byron would have a hard time competing in this tournament. Rowan wondered if he would even get the chance to fight Byron himself.

  Once Darius had all of the boys sorted into groups, he quickly herded them to where all of the other competitors for the day had gathered. Everyone was ordered to form lines and they were marched out onto the training fields where they were met with a thunderous applause.

  Rowan marveled at the difference, at how much the area had been transformed in such a short time. The sun shone brightly overhead and the fields were crowded with people, all of whom were cheering for the boys who would be competing that day. The cold silence of the morning was gone, replaced by an almost oppressive atmosphere of excitement.

  The whole group of boys was herded out towards the center of the largest field. Rowan shuffled along, following closely behind those in front of him and being followed closely by the boys behind. As he walked, Rowan caught a glimpse of Heath and some of the others that he was friendly with. He smiled in their direction as a greeting.

  As he had yesterday, Darius stepped forward and formally presented the boys who would be competing. His speech was very much the same as the day before. When Darius was finished, King Alden stepped forward to say a few words and officially begin the second day of the Revel. When the king had finished speaking, Rowan cheered along with the crowd as the group broke apart so that the competitions could begin.

  Though he had experienced the Revel yesterday, it was an entirely new and overwhelming experience now that he was on the fields as a competitor.

  Those first moments where chaotic; many boys struggled to move in separate directions without knowing quite where they were supposed to go. It was only the second day of the Revel and the boys were still unfamiliar with the way the training grounds had been reorganized. Trainers shouted, struggling to make themselves heard over the shouts of the crowd and the general din. Rowan chose to stay where he stood, waiting for the group around him to thin before heading towards Darius on the sidelines.

  The group with which he would be competing had already begun to gather. Rowan joined the others, looking around fields as he idled. Most of the boys had dispersed and the trainers had quickly been able to organize them and bring some level of order to the fields. Rowan saw Erik and Andrew as they made their way towards their own groups, but both boys were too focused to notice him.

  The day was hectic and rushed, though incredibly slow to begin. It was a long while before Rowan heard a horn and the unmistakable sound of metal on metal, indicating that one of the swordsmanship events had finally started. He wondered which group it was, but he could not see through the chaos to find out.

  Rowan’s own group was still waiting for an open section of field before they could begin their competition. He wished that he could be among the boys who had already begun competing. He had no close connections with any of the boys in his group and the constant waiting was beginning to bore him. And though he would admit it to no one, a knot of apprehension was churning within him as he waited, making his stomach flip. He convinced himself that it was only nerves because of the crowds. To distract himself, he concentrated on checking his armor and testing the balance of the blunted tourney blade that had been given to him. He found it to be adequate; nothing to praise and nothing to fault.

  When Darius finally called for the boys in Rowan’s group to compete, the sun was high and the air was hot. Rowan’s stomach growled with hunger, but he had turned away the food offered to him at midday, fearing that he might see it again in a most unpleasant manner.

  Darius led the boys to a familiar section of the practice fields and organized them with their opponents. The moment that Rowan took his blade in hand and stood face to face with his opponent—a boy named Brandon—his nerves began to calm and his mind began to clear. Sparring was a practice that was familiar to him. He performed the routine salutes honoring his opponent, his judge, his audience, and the throne, the last being a salute that was very rarely made since one did not often have a royal audience.

  Rowan relished the thrill of the competition and threw himself into the duel with everything he had. The jarring clash of metal on metal gave Rowan a rush of adrenaline.

  The match was quick and Rowan easily dominated his opponent. His time spent sparring with Erik and some of the other boys had helped him to maintain his stamina and improve his style. Yet even so, when Rowan pulled off his helmet at the end of the match and saluted his opponent, his face was flushed and his hair was matted with sweat. The armor and tunic were hot and the summer sun only made it worse. Rowan’s summers in Corrinth had been hot since he lived in the North, but there had always been the ever present shade of the trees that surrounded his home. Here there was little to block the sun.

  Following his bout, Rowan was given a short reprieve. He sought out a shaded area and took a moment’s rest, sitting down and allowing himself the opportunity to observe some of the other events. Several other boys were sparring with
blades near the spot that he had come from, and off to his left, the trainers had cleared off and marked a flat area where some of the boys were competing in leg-races.

  Rowan watched some of the other competitions absentmindedly for a while before he was called back to the swordsmanship competition, where he once again dueled and won against another boy.

  The day continued on in very much the same fashion. Rowan continued to win his duels quickly and efficiently, something the crowd took notice of. Many people began to cheer him on as he continued to best the boys that he faced. It quickly became evident that Rowan was more skilled with a blade than most of the others in the competition. By the end of his first day, Rowan had not lost a single match. He had quickly gained the favor of the crowd and his was one of the many names being chanted.

  At the close, Rowan was thoroughly exhausted. The swordsmanship competition was one of the last competitions to end that day. There had been at least eighty boys entered, with a full score placed among each of the four groups. Since Rowan was one of the last to compete in his group, he had been kept near the dueling area and he was unable to know how Erik or Andrew had fared. Erik’s injury was worrisome. Rowan knew that his friend was a fair swordsman, but his skill was going to be severely tested now that he was dueling with an injured shoulder.

  Rowan had easily earned his place in the finals of the swordsmanship competition for the following day, as had four other boys from his group. He was not overly worried about them, having defeated one already and having had the opportunity to observe the matches of the others. Rowan recognized that each of them was skilled, but he felt confident in his own abilities.

  Once he had been officially declared a finalist in the day’s competition, Rowan quickly returned his weapon and his armor to the master-of-arms on the far side of the fields. The boys were not allowed to keep the tourney blades or the armor, though they were meant to keep their tunics for the duration of the competition.

  After he was relieved of his equipment, Rowan made his way back across the training fields, searching for Erik and Andrew. Although still crowded with spectators and boys competing in different events, the fields were not as hectic as they had been earlier in the day. Still, though he looked around for them, Rowan was unable to spot either. Instead he found Darius.

  “Have you seen Erik or Andrew?” Rowan asked, giving the head trainer a quick bow of courtesy. Darius gave Rowan a nod acknowledging his presence, but did not turn away from the event that he was observing.

  “I’m quite busy at the moment. What is it that you need?”

  A cheer erupted from the crowd as one boy stepped off the field and the next event participant stepped on. Darius made a mark on the tablet that he carried.

  Rowan waited for the noise to lessen before repeating his question.

  “I am looking for Erik and Andrew.”

  “Your two friends finished their duels earlier in the day,” Darius said. “They both performed admirably and will be competing in the tournament tomorrow.”

  Darius then turned his attention to Rowan. When he spoke, his voice was far more serious than it had been before. “As a judge and trainer, I must remain an impartial figure in this tournament. But I feel that I ought to tell you that Byron was also among the day’s victors and will be competing again tomorrow. You would do well to make sure that Erik hears of this.”

  Rowan nodded. “I understand.” He had already seen the way that Byron fought in this competition. The boy had no honor and was clearly a threat. Byron bore no love for Erik, and he despised Rowan.

  “Good,” said Darius, returning his attention to the event still taking place. “Now, I have many other things that demand my attention. You may take your leave.”

  Rowan bowed again and thanked the trainer before hurrying off to find his friend. He made his way to the edge of the field to avoid the commotion. The events of the Revel were still going on, and would continue until nightfall when darkness covered the fields and everyone turned to feasting.

  Rowan left the fields and began to search for his friends. It did not take him very long. He found both Erik and Andrew with some of the other boys, all of them watching an event where boys were throwing weapons at distanced targets. The rhythmic thud of knives and axes and spears burying themselves in targets and the groans of the crowd as some weapons missed sounded in the background.

  “Erik!” Rowan called out.

  Heads turned at the sound of Rowan’s call. The rest of the group acknowledged him with nods, waves, and bows, before they turned back to watch the event. Erik, however, walked over and greeted Rowan by clasping his wrist and slapping his arm. Rowan smiled and returned the greeting, though he refrained from touching his friend’s injured arm.

  “Congratulations, Erik. I heard from Darius that you did well in today’s event and you will continue to compete in the tournament tomorrow.”

  Erik thanked Rowan. “It was a difficult day and I almost lost several matches, but I pulled through in the end. I would like to believe that our sparring is what allowed me to win. You deserve all of the credit for mentoring me.”

  “He’s being modest,” Andrew said, breaking off from the group to join Rowan and Erik. “I watched several of his later matches. Erik handled himself very well. He deserves credit for his victories, especially given that he is fighting with a handicap.” Andrew stared pointedly at Erik’s shoulder as he said this.

  “Nonsense! Rowan’s teachings have been very helpful.”

  “I am not discrediting Rowan. I am only saying that you fought your own fights, and you fought them well.”

  Erik looked as though he was ready to say something more, but Rowan cut him off. He knew that Andrew only meant to praise Erik. “Darius told me that you also did well today, Andrew.”

  “I suppose that I did,” the boy replied. “I did well enough to compete in the fields tomorrow, where I expect to duel one or both of you.”

  “How did you fare today, Rowan?”

  Rowan turned towards Erik. “I will advance and compete tomorrow.”

  “I heard that you fared very well,” Andrew said. “When last I checked, you were still undefeated and the crowd had taken to chanting your name.”

  “Is that true?” Erik asked.

  Rowan’s face flushed. He was proud of his accomplishment, but he did not want to appear conceited or arrogant, nor did he want to boast of his accomplishments today. He could still lose tomorrow.

  “Yes. I did well today. But tomorrow is what will really matter,” Rowan said. Privately he wondered how and when Andrew had been able to observe his matches. While Rowan was competing, he had been given very little time to rest in between matches and the trainer overseeing his group had forbidden the boys from straying too far from the area.

  “Darius also told me that Byron will be competing with us tomorrow,” Rowan said.

  Andrew had been competing in the same group as Byron, so this was not news to him. He had watched Byron compete, perhaps even had a chance to fight against him. But Rowan had been expecting this news to elicit some kind of response from Erik. Instead, his friend seemed indifferent.

  Erik shrugged, an awkward gesture when done with only one shoulder.

  “Why should that matter?”

  Rowan was caught off guard and didn’t know what to say.

  “To be honest, I was expecting this. Byron may be dishonorable and full of himself, but he is no fool. He would not have entered into this competition if he knew he would only end up humiliated.”

  “That is why I wanted you to know that he was competing,” Rowan said. “I am not going to tell you that you should bow out of the tournament, even if you are wounded. You have the right to choose your own path. But I do think that you—,” Rowan caught himself and rephrased his statement. “I think that we all should be wary of Byron’s presence in the competition. He may not be as skilled with a blade, but he will be determined to win. And his version of victory does not require honor.”


  “You have no need to warn me,” Erik snapped. “I know how Byron fights. I know of his honor.” Erik practically spat the word out.

  “Rowan only speaks the truth,” Andrew said. “I watched Byron compete today, and I have seen him practicing these past weeks. What Byron lacks in skill and experience, he makes up for in tenacity. He fights like a wild beast. Many of his matches ended with injuries, much like yours.”

  “I do not fear Byron,” Erik said.

  “Nor do I. And I doubt that Rowan fears him. Never-the-less, Byron is still a threat in this competition, and Rowan is merely making sure that you are aware of that threat.”

  “I only wanted you to know what you would be facing tomorrow,” Rowan said. “I did not mean to offend you.”

  “It is fine,” Erik said. “I know that you mean no offense. Now let us forget Byron and continue watching the Revel and cheering for our friends.”

  Rowan voiced his agreement, glad to be rid of such a meaningless squabble. In truth, he was worried about Erik, but he would refrain from saying so. Erik would see Rowan’s worry as pity.

  So he silenced his thoughts of tomorrow and joined the other boys on the edge of the field.

  Chapter 28

  The festivities that evening were every bit as lush and extravagant as they had been the night before. The day’s victors were honored on the field by King Alden and Princess Eliza and all throughout the city was the clamor of celebration. Tales were told and songs were sung and many praises and words of honor were sent back and forth, all of them well deserved. There was dancing and drinking and more than one of the boys found themselves being eyed by pretty serving girls and young ladies. A particularly attractive girl kept asking Erik to dance, but unlike many of the other boys, he seemed to have no interest.