The Apprentice Read online

  “Well? Are you going to tell me what happened to you?”

  Rowan turned away from her for a moment. She couldn’t see his face but she knew that indecision was written all over it.

  “Rowan—,” Eliza started to speak but he cut her off.

  “Someone attacked me from behind. I was ambushed, caught off-guard and knocked out.”

  “Do you know who it was? Was it more than one person?”

  “It was only one person.” A look crossed Rowan’s face, a look that told Eliza that he knew who had harmed him but that he would not say the name. It was immediately replaced by a grimace as Eliza drew the cloth across his cheek, cleaning a cut. Rowan grunted. “At least try to be gentle.”

  Eliza ignored him and continued her work. Although still bloody, Rowan was beginning to look better. “Don’t complain. I am being gentle, but I only have a cloth to work with and there’s only so much I can do. We really should go and have a healer take a look at you.”

  “I would prefer not to.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I would rather not cause a scandal and become the center of attention. I can deal with this myself, so please don’t tell anyone.”

  Eliza pouted but did not press the issue. She had made her position clear already. She dabbed at him again and then pulled away, satisfied with her work. The cloth in her hand was little more than a blood-soaked rag now.

  “Ugh. My handkerchief is ruined.” She tossed the bloody cloth aside. “And my dress too! It’s all bloody and stained.” Eliza had been hoping that she could wash away the dirt she had accumulated in her escape from Baird and save her dress, but now it was ruined for sure. The blood had already soaked through parts of the silk, leaving an obvious stain that would raise a lot of unwanted questions. That meant she could not have the servants mend it for her. What would they say if they discovered a blood-stained dress among her soiled linens?

  “Oh!” Eliza gave a little gasp as she realized how it would look if she were to return to the castle dressed as she was. There would be an uproar once the servants found her, and the Gods only knew what would happen if Baird or her father were to see her.

  “What is it?” Rowan asked. He steadied himself against the wall as he stood. Eliza noticed a small bloody stain where his head had rested. She figured that Rowan must have a wound on the back of his head.

  “My dress is ruined,” Eliza said dumbly.

  “Are you that vain?”

  Without thinking, she punched Rowan hard on the arm. She hurt her hand doing so, but his grunt of pain gave her a sense of satisfaction.

  “I am NOT vain. But what will be said if I am seen returning like this? I look like I have killed somebody, or somebody tried to kill.” Her voice rose in pitch as she became slightly hysterical, though she did not notice and would never acknowledge such a flaw.

  Rowan suddenly appeared seriously worried. He had obviously not thought of such a thing. Eliza watched as he looked at himself. His tunic was bloody and he appeared a mess, though having participated in the Revel he might be able to explain away such injuries once they were cleaned and treated. Might.

  But Eliza was the princess. She had no such excuses available to her. A princess that was covered in blood begged many questions, questions to which she would have no proper answer.

  “Could you sneak back inside and change?”

  Eliza considered the option.

  “I suppose I’ll have to.” It wasn’t as though there were many other options available. She could not very well enter through the main doors and go to her room, though she rarely did that anyways. She preferred to sneak around and she was fairly confident that she could make her way into the castle without being seen. But she would have to be extra cautious this time and she would need to ditch her dress afterwards. Perhaps she could bury it or burn it.

  “I must wash myself before I return,” Eliza said. “My hands have blood on them and I do not want the washing basin in my room to be all bloody.” In truth, Eliza could explain the wash water away, but she preferred to avoid that conversation if at all possible.

  “There is a water barrel over there,” Rowan pointed down the alley. “I cannot guarantee that the water is drinkable, but it should be fit for washing.”

  Together they found the water bin and used the cold liquid to rinse and clean themselves. They refrained from dipping their limbs in the barrel itself, instead preferring to use the bucket that sat nearby. Rowan also insisted on tossing a few bucketfuls of water on the street to wash away most of the blood that had pooled.

  As Eliza made to leave, Rowan caught her by the wrist.

  “Thank you.”

  The words were sincere and Eliza was touched. Though it was a bad idea after her wash, she stepped forward and gave Rowan a brief embrace.

  “You are welcome,” she whispered. Then without so much as another word, she hurried off into the night, leaving the day’s champion to himself.

  Chapter 33

  The yearly Revel ended with Rowan observing the rest of the events from the stands. He watched many of the boys he had trained with compete and do well in their own events. Heath, the young boy who seemed to admire him, did quite well in two of the running events and held his own in the archery competition, though he did not place. The archery contest was won by Soran.

  Rowan was not alone on the sidelines. Erik was a constant presence throughout the games, his injury preventing him from further competition. Rowan was grateful for his friend’s companionship. It made the Revel much more enjoyable. They were occasionally joined by Andrew as well, whose presence led to some very interesting conversations.

  Rowan found Andrew to be very knowledgeable. The boy was introverted and tended towards silence and solitude, but when he opened up and spoke he always offered good observations and opinions. He was surprisingly well spoken, given his birth.

  He was even able to keep company with Baird several times during the feasting, his nightly routine no longer as appealing.

  The Revel ended with a feast greater than any that had preceded it. All of the boys were honored that night for their efforts and participation in the tournament.

  In the ensuing months, many of the tensions that had previously divided the barracks began to dissipate. Byron strictly avoided Rowan, only occasionally sneaking sideways glances at him.

  Rowan continued to spar with Erik, helping his friend to grow and develop as he taught him what he knew of swordsmanship. Their friendship flourished as Erik chose to return the favor by teaching Rowan how to wrestle and coaching him in hand-to-hand combat.

  The group of boys who had taken to practicing swordsmanship with them grew as they were joined by Andrew, among others. He only showed up occasionally at first, but eventually became a constant presence. He did not always practice, often preferring only to watch, but Rowan was grateful whenever the boy decided to join them. Erik was a strong opponent, but Rowan enjoyed a new challenge. Practicing with Andrew forced him to adapt to a new style and helped him to grow.

  Though time passed, Rowan could not forget the kindness that Eliza had shown him that night during the Revel. She had helped him when he needed it most, and since no one had questioned Rowan about the incident, he knew that she had honored his request and kept her silence. He wanted to do something for the princess, something special to thank her for her kindness and her assistance. He wanted it to be something unique, a thing no one else could give her. Though this would not be easy, because as a princess and an only child, Eliza was spoiled.

  He thought of questioning Baird about her, but he knew that his master would get the wrong idea and that was the last thing he needed. He could imagine the humiliation that would entail. Asking around the barracks would yield similar problems, so instead he pondered the question in his bunk at night. Eventually he came up with an idea.

  Chapter 34

  Eliza walked through the lower gardens, inhaling the scent of dozens of flowers and plants. This was one of he
r favorite areas of the castle grounds. The gardens were lovely and they were always well kept. She could walk up and down the rows every day and still discover plants that were new to her. Her mother had often taken her on walks through the garden when she was younger. That was before she had grown ill and passed away.

  The sun shone brightly overhead. It caught her eye as she walked, causing her to stumble as she blindly tripped over a stone.

  “Is everything alright, princess?” Gizelle’s voice sounded from where she sat nearby. She had been asleep moments before, but Eliza’s cry of surprise must have wakened her.

  “I’m fine. The sun almost made me trip, but I caught myself.”

  “You’re not hurt?”

  Eliza smiled. “There is no need to worry. You can go back to sleep.”

  “I was only resting my eyes. It wouldn’t do to sleep while I am supposed to be watching over you. Gods only know what mischief you would do.” Even as she spoke, the elder woman’s voice grew soft.

  Eliza retraced her steps so that she could check on Gizelle. She found her resting on a bench in the shade of a tree, bundled in shawls and fast asleep. Eliza looked on with affection. The elderly woman often rested during their outings. No one knew about these lapses, but if they found out, if Baird found out, someone else would be assigned to watch over her. If that happened then she would not be able to sneak off and be on her own, which is why she was content to allow Gizelle to take her afternoon naps in peace.

  As she continued to make her way through the rows of plants, Eliza was again blinded by the sun. Movement to her right caught her attention, but when she looked she saw nothing. Then a light danced through the shadows, bobbing up and down as though trying to grab her attention. This was no natural reflection, and Eliza wondered what it could be. She turned towards the source of the light in time to be blinded as it shone directly at her. Angry, she hurried towards the edge of the gardens to find whoever or whatever was responsible.

  The grounds appeared to be empty. She looked around for a moment before she spotted Rowan standing a short distance beyond the tree line of the kingswood, holding something reflective in one hand. He beckoned for her to join him.

  Eliza glanced back warily towards the spot where her caretaker slumbered. Old Gizelle was one of the few people that Eliza felt guilty sneaking away from. The woman was old and frail and overly trusting. Eliza whispered a silent apology before leaving her caretaker alone in the gardens. She walked to the tree line and wordlessly followed as Rowan led her into the woods.

  They walked quietly for a while, Rowan leading and Eliza following. Before long they emerged in a small clearing. Eliza did not recognize the area; she had never before been to this part of the woods. She found this odd, as she had explored the kingswood often over the years.

  “What did you bring me here for?” Eliza stared at Rowan expectantly, but instead of answering her, he turned and walked to the far edge of the clearing where he pulled something out of the brush.

  “I thought I would offer you something in thanks for helping me.” He didn’t need to say anything more, Eliza knew what he was thinking. She knew that she should respond but her mind couldn’t find the right words and her attention was focused on the item in his hands.

  Behind his back, but not entirely concealed, was an elongated object wrapped in a cloth that was tattered and stained. Rowan pulled the cloth away, revealing a wooden practice sword. He held it out to her.

  Eliza accepted the gift, holding it carefully as though it might shatter and break, leaving her with nothing. The wood was smooth and cool to the touch. It was beautiful.

  “You can keep it hidden here in the woods.” Rowan said. “It is made well enough that you should not have to worry much about damage from water or dampness, though I would keep it off the ground in case heavy rains flood the area.

  “And if you want,” he continued hesitantly, “I could…teach you how to use it.”

  He would teach her! Eliza struggled to maintain her composure and not betray her joy. She had always longed to learn as the boys did, as even some of the maids and serving girls who had brothers did. Yet her father had forbidden such things. Even Baird would not help her, something she always held against him. She had, when she was younger, hoped that Baird would teach her anyways. He had never been one for rules. But if Rowan was willing to teach her…he was Baird’s apprentice and had proven himself by winning the Revel. He was obviously a skilled swordsman. If she were to be taught, he would not be so bad. He was not his master, but she would not complain.

  “Shall I take your expression to mean yes?”

  “You shall,” Eliza said, refocusing her attention on him. “But how did you come up with such an offer?”

  He chuckled, and that made Eliza quite angry. She did not enjoy being laughed at. She stamped her foot impatiently and ordered him to answer. He laughed harder.

  Embarrassed, Eliza crossed her arms and glared at him. She thought about giving him a whack with the sword in her hand but thought better of it. He had yet to teach her how to use it and she did not want to lose this opportunity. Not many were willing to defy her father for something so small, something that gained them nothing. So she steeled herself and waited while Rowan composed himself.

  “You are not a very subtle person, Princess. It’s no secret that you want to learn to wield a man’s weapon. As I remember it, the last time you visited the training fields with Baird before the Revel you stormed off in a fury because you were not allowed to watch us spar. The mystery is why you want to learn such a thing.”

  Eliza thought back, remembering the event. She had been in a fury for the rest of the day and had acted coldly towards Baird for quite a while afterwards. “You remember that?”

  “Yes. You have a way about you. You always make quite an impression. And back then I was still intimidated by you.”

  Now it was Eliza’s turn to laugh, making Rowan blush a deep shade of scarlet.

  “You found me intimidating. I am a princess. You are a knight’s apprentice.”

  “Baird would agree with me. ‘She is as feisty and vicious as a Fury. A princess she may be, but she’s got some bite and if you anger her she will—,’” Rowan paused. “Actually, I had best not finish that thought.”

  “He would not say something so cruel.”

  “You do have a certain...” Rowan searched for the right word. “Fire about you.”

  “I am a lady—a princess—and I shall not abide such slanderous words.” Even as she spoke, Eliza made a mental note to make an effort to appear more civil in the near future. It would not do for her emotions to control her, and this would not be the first time that she had ignored a personality flaw, though in this case she found herself taking no small amount of pride in the way that others perceived her. Intimidation was a powerful ally. But she did not like the way that Rowan spoke of her.

  “I must return to the barracks before I am missed, but we can meet again so that you may learn how to use your gift. Before I go, there is another thing that I want you to have.” Rowan pulled out a small parcel and handed to her. “You may take it with you, but open it after I am gone, when you are alone.”

  With that, he started to walk away.

  “When will we meet?” Eliza called after him.

  “When there is time and you are free, I will find you. If you are impatient, then just return here and wait for me, but do not leave notes or ask after me.”

  With that Rowan was gone, leaving Eliza alone in the woods in a place she had never explored before. But as much as she yearned to look around and become familiar with this foreign part of her home, she had to return to Gizelle. If she wished to continue to sneak away and meet Rowan, then it would not do for the old caretaker to awaken and find the princess missing.

  Clutching the wrapped parcel that Rowan had given her, Eliza found the leather case for her wooden sword and put it away, wrapping the case and the blade in the material that Rowan had abandoned and hiding
the bundle in the hollow of a large tree. Confident that no one would find her treasure, she hurried back to the gardens.

  Eliza returned to find Gizelle still asleep on the bench, exactly where she had been left. That was good. No one had missed her while she was gone.

  While she had the chance, Eliza opened Rowan’s parcel to discover that it was a dirtied old scroll. She unrolled it to find that it was covered with writing and illustrations of figures in varying positions. It was written and drawn by hand, and sloppily so compared to many of the tomes and scrolls that filled the castle library. She glanced at some of Rowan’s drawings. All of the figures were holding a blade. It was an instructional guide, she realized, understanding that the figures were meant to show different forms and stances and motions. She smiled with glee. Perhaps she would enjoy reading a book for once.

  * * *

  Rowan took the long route back to the barracks, circling around so that he approached from the direction of the castle in case anyone had noticed his absence. He had been gone for longer than he had intended and in coming back late, he did not know if he would be missed. He had done nothing wrong, but it would not do to have people questioning where he was. That would only lead the trainers, particularly Darius, to observe him more closely. It would make it significantly harder for him to meet with the young princess in the future.

  Rowan quickened his pace and soon he was walking through the familiar buildings that all the boys occupied and used. He met with no one, which he took to mean that people were still practicing. Rowan decided that he did not need to join them lest they notice his absence. Instead, since supper time was drawing near, Rowan would wait until then to join the others. He walked to the barracks and pulled out Tenro to inspect it. As his most valuable and prized possession, he made sure to constantly check on it since he was not allowed to wear the weapon freely. Finding the sword as he had left it, Rowan lay down on his bunk and rested.