The Apprentice Read online

  Rowan was enjoying himself. Ever since the Revel had ended, he felt as though he had truly found a place for himself in Estoria. His victory in the swordsmanship competition had given him confidence and a reputation. Others had always regarded him as skilled with a blade, but he was a loner, his skill only isolating him further. Now he had gained both friends and companions. Some were rivals, others sought to learn from him.

  He and Erik had grown as close as brothers. They knew each other well and they were often together. At Erik’s insistence, Rowan had even moved to a different bunk, one closer to the other boys. He had not known such a thing was allowed, assuming the bunk each boy was given had to be kept, but he learned that it was common and that by paying attention, one could track which boys were on good terms. At home, Rowan had always had Petar’s constant companionship. They fought and argued as all brothers did, but if Rowan was ever bored, he had always been able to look to Petar. Rowan missed his brother and his father, but he found their absence easier to bear in the presence of others.

  And in Princess Eliza, he found a different sort of companionship.

  When Rowan had first met Eliza, he had worried. Their relationship had been rocky from the start and prior to the Revel they had only just established a mutual sense of acceptance. But Eliza had helped him during the Revel, and true to her word, she never told anyone about that night. He’d felt that he owed her something, and so when she accepted his offer to teach her swordsmanship, he made good on his offer. He had expected that she would grow tired of him quickly and give up on the lessons, but she proved him wrong and in her, Rowan had found a different sort of companion. One that he could talk to freely.

  She had surprised him one day when she asked about his home, about his past. He had told her about his life before meeting Baird and about his desire to see the world. He described his home in Corrinth, talking about the village and the people and his family, something he had not discussed with others. He even spoke of his early fears from when he’d travelled with Baird, about Baird having a family, a son, who he might return to. The princess had laughed so hard that she snorted.

  Eliza confided in Rowan as well, telling him many things. They would often spend time talking together after the lessons, and Rowan found that her companionship was beginning to fill the void of Baird’s ever present absence.

  So when Rowan received a summons from his master, he was surprised. He had not heard from Baird for more than a week and the summons came at a moment when his master’s absence had not been the foremost thought on Rowan’s mind.

  Nevertheless, Rowan was glad to hear from his master, though he found it odd that Baird would send for him with an official summons. Such things were not Baird’s way. When his master wanted something done, he would do it himself. Not in all things, of course. Baird allowed the cooks to cook, the servants to clean, and he sometimes trusted the guards to protect. But he did not often send for people in an official manner.

  It was late afternoon, and Rowan stared down at the note that a young messenger had run to him. He had been summoned to meet Baird in just over a half hour. After a length of time spent separated, it would be good to see his master again.

  He idly wondered whether or not he should bring Tenro with him. The note said nothing of sparring and a summons to the castle meant it was unlikely that a blade would be called for. Rowan wondered if he would even be allowed to carry his weapon within the walls of the castle. He was no knight or soldier or guard. He was a farm-boy turned apprentice, and though the blade was his own, it would likely be a breach of etiquette for a trainee to wear a blade. But without his sword, Rowan felt naked and exposed. He enjoyed feeling the weight at his hip, so he grabbed Tenro and hoped that no one would object or try to take it from him.

  Though he was short on time, Rowan left the barracks and took the longer path to the castle, bringing him by the mess hall. He didn’t want to miss another dinner. He ducked inside, hoping that there might still be some lunch left over, or perhaps an early bit of dinner that he could wheedle from the cooks. He was in luck and his trip earned him a bit of bread, some hard meat, and a delicious slice of cheese. Rowan thanked the cook, eating as he left, well aware that he was now running more than a little late.

  He hurried from the mess hall, jogging past Erik as he left. He hadn’t the time to stop and talk so he shot his friend a grin and gave him a brief wave as he passed. He quickly found and asked permission to leave, showing the head trainer the note and informing him of where he would be going. It probably wasn’t necessary, but Rowan wished to err on the side of caution. Darius seemed to watch him closely and had told him off for some of the times that he had gone to meet with Eliza.

  The head trainer looked over the piece of parchment and Rowan could have sworn that the trainer grinned when he asked for permission to leave. Perhaps I should be more subtle when I go off to meet Eliza.

  “You may go,” Darius said after a moment. He handed the parchment back to Rowan. “Give Baird my thanks when you see him.”

  “What for?”

  “He helped me with an issue that I had. It is of little concern to you.”

  Darius turned away and though Rowan’s curiosity was roused, he left the trainer alone and headed off towards the castle at a brisk pace, knowing that Darius’ business was his own. Perhaps Baird would tell him.

  He made his way through the barracks and around towards the rise that was built into the plateau to connect the castle with the training fields. Baird’s note got him through the gate, but Rowan had to ask the guards where to find Baird’s newest quarters. He was pointed to the far side of the castle, to an adjacent building that was connected by covered walkways at each level.

  Rowan wandered around, taking his time as he walked through the hallways and made his way up the stairs to Baird’s chambers. He passed servants, several of whom gave him odd stares. This building was far less extravagant than the main parts of the castle that Rowan was familiar with. The paintings that lined the halls were faded and dull. The displays were older and some of the metals were in need of a good polishing. There was dust. Yet even so, it all spoke of a vast wealth and a great sense of culture.

  Rowan knocked on Baird’s door out of respect for his master’s privacy and waited for permission to enter. The door swung open barely a moment later and Rowan stood facing Baird.

  “You brought your sword.”

  “I did.”

  Baird waited with arms crossed, saying nothing and making no move to allow Rowan to enter. Rowan sighed. It seemed as though his master wanted a more thorough answer, though technically no question had been asked.

  “I prefer to carry Tenro with me in case I need it. I didn’t, and still don’t, know why you summoned me and I had hoped that we might get a chance to spar. Even if we don’t, I like the weight of it. It makes me feel complete.”

  Baird grunted and moved aside to let Rowan enter the room. In contrast to the rest of the castle, Baird’s room was bare and unadorned. Everything about it spoke of bare necessity; there was nothing for comfort or luxury. It was a room which seemed entirely useful and yet devoid of any personality.

  At the far side of the room was a desk, covered with several sheets of parchment as well as some common writing utensils. There were several candles, all of which had been burned down to nubs and needed replacing. The bed was larger than average and an empty night stand stood next to the headboard. The bed was still made, and from the way that Baird appeared it was not because he kept a neat room. Rowan wondered why Baird was not sleeping well, and what could possibly be important enough to keep such a man awake at night.

  “You don’t seem overly impressed with my quarters,” Baird observed.

  “There isn’t much to be impressed with,” Rowan said without thinking.

  Baird laughed, his serious expression fading. “Right you are, Rowan. Though to be honest, I prefer living this way. I do not require very much. I have a bed that fits a man of my size and a des
k when it is needed. I store Sidia in its scabbard and everything else is secondary. If a need arises, I can find whatever I require elsewhere in the castle. But I did not call you here so that you could see my quarters. I called you here so that we might talk.”

  “You only want to talk? Why not send me a message telling me whatever you wanted to say? Or just come and see me?”

  “Was it too much effort for you to come here?”

  Rowan didn’t answer.

  “Perhaps you have a right to be annoyed,” Baird said. “But I never act without reason. I called you here because I would prefer to speak in person and as your master I am entitled to certain privileges, such as summoning you. Besides, my presence around the barracks causes a disturbance and I do not wish to upset the trainers any more than is necessary, which is one of the reasons that I will not continue frequenting the barracks to observe you.”

  “What!” Rowan’s voice was near to shouting. He fought to control his emotions and quiet himself, to keep from allowing his anger to overcome him. He already felt abandoned. For Baird to stop seeing him entirely would be a betrayal.

  After being silenced by Baird and forced to take his seat, the big man continued to speak.

  “You must to learn to control yourself, Rowan. Your emotions should not control you like that.” Rowan bowed his head in shame, taking the criticism to heart. He really shouldn’t have had such an outburst. Baird continued. “As I was saying, I will not be coming to the barracks to observe and train you anymore. It will only cause a disturbance if I participate in the practice sessions that you have begun to lead, something which I approve of, by the way. Instead, you will now be coming to me so that I can continue your education beyond what the trainers are teaching you.”

  “So we won’t be sparring?” Rowan asked.

  “Of course we will continue to spar. You are growing into a competent swordsman, but you still have very much to learn. The day that you are able to beat me, that is when we will no longer spar together. But until then, you still have much to learn, and my teachings will no longer be limited to swordsmanship. There are other, more important things that you must learn as my apprentice.

  “Today we will spar, since you brought your blade. Though we will not be sparring at the training grounds. Instead, I have arranged for us to have the use of a different field so that you might have a change of scenery.”

  “How often will we do this?” Rowan was excited at the prospect of being with Baird again. His master’s lessons were invigorating and Rowan enjoyed the renewed sense of trust in their bond as master and apprentice.

  “We will meet every day, provided that I am not engaged with some urgent matter. When that happens, I want you to hold extra practice sessions with your peers.”

  “Won’t this interfere with my regular training schedule?” Rowan asked, suddenly aware of the difficulty that this would cause for his meetings with Eliza. Training with Baird every day would make it extremely difficult for him to sneak off to see her.

  “This will supplement your daily training session and your work with your peers. Instead of having free time to train as you see fit, you will join me. And I want no complaints. Since you brought your blade, we will begin today.”

  Rowan felt his insides twist into a knot. It was quite possible that Baird had taken note of his many unexplained absences, but Rowan had been very careful to cover his tracks so that no one knew exactly what he was up to. Even Darius had been unable to follow him, though Rowan knew that the trainer had tried on several occasions. For Baird, this was likely a means of ensuring that Rowan was focused and preventing him from sneaking off or getting into trouble. His master might also have wanted to rekindle the connection between them that had been fading with his absence. It was probably a mix of both. But it was going to be a serious inconvenience for Rowan. His meetings with Eliza would become incredibly difficult, if they were possible at all.

  As Baird stood and grabbed his own blade, Rowan suddenly remembered something.

  “Darius wanted me to give you his thanks. He did not say what for.”

  “Did he now?” Baird’s mouth tugged upwards at the edge in a slight grin, but his eyes did not seem to share the same enthusiasm. They bore a somewhat pained look. “I suppose he does owe me his gratitude.”

  Rowan tried to get his master to speak more on the matter, but Baird would not. He brushed past Rowan, tight lipped and without a word. Recognizing a lost cause, Rowan gave up. He was not overly curious about the issue anyways. It did not seem to involve him.

  * * *

  Later that evening, Rowan returned to the barracks. He walked stiffly, his body covered in bruises for the first time in quite a while.

  He had forgotten just how hard Baird could work him, pushing him to the limits of his endurance and beyond. They had sparred until he was ready to drop, and then they had continued for another half hour. He felt that he had done well, much better than he ever had in the past. His master was still a superior swordsman and had the advantage of height, weight, and reach, but Rowan fought well.

  After they had finished sparring, Baird insisted on tutoring him throughout the following hour. They discussed politics, strategy, customs, ethics, and they reviewed maps. Baird found Rowan’s lack of knowledge regarding the major countries disturbing, and told him so very directly.

  He could guess with fair amount of certainty what they would be discussing tomorrow.

  When he got back to the barracks, he found that he had missed dinner. Glad that he had grabbed a quick snack earlier, he made a mental note to discuss his eating arrangements with Baird. If his master intended to continue their lessons, Rowan would need to find some way to still eat.

  Tired and hungry, he sought out his bunk, placing Tenro on the floor beside him. Some of the other boys gave him questioning looks, some went so far as to approach him and ask him where he had been at such an odd hour. Rowan kindly ignored them, saying that he was too tired to talk and that he had gone nowhere important. He didn’t even notice that Erik was among those he tried to brush off.

  “You won’t be rid of me that easily,” his friend said, tossing him a dinner roll. Rowan accepted the bread and took a bite, savoring the food even though it was cold, hard, and slightly stale. “Where were you this evening? I know you didn’t sneak out this time because you aren’t grinning as you usually do when you return from wherever it is that you go.”

  “I don’t come back grinning,” Rowan said, though secretly he wondered.

  “So you freely admit to sneaking?”

  Rowan cursed himself. His exhaustion was making it hard for him to concentrate and he was left scrambling to cover his mistake. “You already know that I like to go my own way, Erik.”

  “Yes, I do. But I didn’t know that you were alright with letting the whole camp know.”

  Rowan was in no mood for games. “The whole camp probably knows or suspects it anyway, but where I go to is still my own. So long as no one disturbs me then what does it matter?”

  “Honestly, Rowan,” Erik said, his voice thick with frustration. “You should worry more about the consequences of your actions. Darius himself came to me and tried to make me tell him what you were doing and where you were going.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize,” Erik said. “I just want you to know how things stand. You might not care if you get punished, but it is difficult to watch you constantly defying orders. People wonder whether you will be able to grow into a good soldier. And Byron seems to enjoy fanning those flames.”

  “Everyone knows what Byron is like. Our feud is no secret.”

  “That isn’t the point, Rowan. With the way you act, his words are dangerous. Most of the boys know not to believe him, but they are not the ones whose opinions matter.”

  “I was under the impression that I was going to be a knight, not a soldier.” Besides, he thought, I might not even get the chance to sneak out again.

  “It doesn’t matte
r what you become if people do not think that you are loyal to the crown. The people love our king, and they will love the princess when it is her turn to reign and she has married. If you are not seen as trustworthy, then even if you become a knight, you will have little power.”

  There was a pause.

  “So where were you this time?”

  “I was summoned to the castle by Baird. He wants to resume my training. He made me spar until I was ready to drop so he could ‘test my progress.’ Then he lectured me as though I were a scholar, talking about the different countries and their peoples.”

  “Does this mean you will be leaving the barracks?” Erik asked. It was not traditionally how a boy left, but Rowan’s position was far from normal. It was standard to hold trials when a group of boys reached a certain age, and graduate those who passed, giving positions, assignments, and ranks based on performance and recommendations. The graduates would be moved out of the training barracks and placed with other soldiers. Since the capitol itself did not host a large standing garrison of troops, trainees often left when they were graduated.

  “No,” Rowan replied. “I will still be living and training here with everyone. I think Baird just wants to focus more on training me as his apprentice.”

  “That’s fantastic! I wish I could train as a knight’s apprentice. But I guess knights are becoming rarer and rarer as King Alden continues to try and establish a more organized and peaceful kingdom.”

  Rowan never voiced his innermost thoughts to anyone, excepting his discussions with Eliza, but Erik was like a brother to him. Erik knew him well enough to understand the significance of his return to a routine with Baird.

  “It will be nice to train with Baird again, but I fear that he plans on working me to my death. You may find me to be a much easier opponent when we spar together.”

  “That will be helpful. I certainly won’t go easy on you. If you are tired, I will take advantage of that. Anything to finally beat you.”

  Rowan laughed at the jest, but it brought to mind his sparring session with Baird earlier. Baird had seemed unusually sluggish and significantly less energetic. It was barely noticeable because it had been a while since they fought and even when tired and weakened, Baird was stronger and faster than most men. Remembering the unused bed in Baird’s room and the burned out candles, Rowan realized that Baird must be working on something. Something important that was taking up most of his time.