The Apprentice Read online

  He felt suddenly guilty about taking up Baird’s time just so that he could feel closer to him. The training was a nice bonus, and he enjoyed it, but he really just wanted to work alongside his master. He felt even worse because he knew that Baird was partially, if not completely, driven by a need to keep him in check.

  “Rowan, are you even listening to me?” Erik’s voice broke him from his reverie.

  “What? Yes—I mean no. Yes, I was listening to you. I was just distracted. I am tired and my mind wandered for a moment.”

  Rowan returned his focus to their conversation, but it soon ended as he claimed exhaustion and bid Erik good night. Afterwards, he lay in his bed wondering what Baird was focused on that could be so important.

  Chapter 37

  The days passed quickly for Rowan once he resumed training with Baird. He did not have the time to continue their lessons, though he sought a chance to sneak away to meet with Eliza anyways. He still thought of her, and he missed the sense of closeness that he had felt when they were together. But Baird kept him busy and the opportunity never arose.

  He spent the days training with his friends under the guidance of the trainers. Because the boys were growing closer to an age where they could graduate from their training, they were expected to practice more. At the end of each day, he would leave and continue training with Baird, though on the days that he had sparring sessions with Erik he was allowed to be late. His master’s lessons and exercises left him physically and mentally drained. Baird no longer focused solely on sparring with Rowan, training him to be proficient with the standard weapons of a soldier. They did continue sparring, but a much larger amount of their time was now spent focusing on such things as politics, languages, geography, and philosophy.

  Rowan found that Baird was very well learned. His master had travelled between the different countries on many occasions, once even venturing south to explore the Melosian wastelands. In his travels, he had learned much about other cultures and he was now intent on passing his knowledge on to Rowan. They had lengthy discussions about various subjects and he was made to study maps and learn the different lands. “Knowledge is power,” Baird said, “and one day you will find yourself grateful for the things I am making you learn today.” Rowan doubted that he would ever need much of what he was taught, but he applied himself regardless.

  He was made to learn different sets of letters, ones that he did not recognize. Baird touched on numbers but he found the subject dull. It made his head hurt and he was glad when it was not brought up a second time.

  They studied philosophy and ethics, how to act and what determined right and wrong. Baird lectured him on how different peoples and different cultures had differing ideas and customs that surrounded and defined their morality. The people of the North, for instance, had no aversion to war and death. For them, it was the way of life. But to show compassion to an enemy was taboo.

  Rowan was also made to learn the customs and cultural histories of other countries and peoples. He was still largely unfamiliar with much of the history of Atlea, his own country, and yet he was learning about others.

  “Why are these things so important?” Rowan asked once.

  Baird sighed, looking weary and strained, as he so often did. “If you ever went north and found yourself among the Terran wildlings, what would you do?”

  “I would not have gotten myself caught, and I also would not have gone north since there is not much up there. From what you have told me, the far North is just a dry wasteland. A dead land.”

  “You are missing the point. If you were among the Northmen, among the wildling clans, how would you greet them?”

  Rowan barely even considered the question. “I would hold out my hand or I would kneel, depending on who I am greeting. Most likely I would hold out my hand since there is no nobility to kneel to among the wildlings.”

  “And in doing so, you would be killed. The Terran wildlings are warrior clans and they would take our greetings as an insult. Among them, respect is shown by holding your head high and exposing your neck. Leaving yourself vulnerable is both a sign of respect and a show of power. An extended hand shows intent to do battle and kneeling is like asking to be beheaded. Bowing is no better.

  “Do you see now how your ignorance is a problem? As a knight, especially under Alden’s rule, your duties may take you beyond the borders of our country. He is attempting to foster lasting relations with the surrounding countries to bring about a more peaceful era. For this, he needs people who can act as emissaries. People like myself, and you, once you are ready.”

  Rowan made a special effort to apply himself after that, to learn all that Baird had to teach him. It was not easy. There was much to learn, most of it very dull. However, they kept up their sparring sessions, making his time with Baird much more tolerable.

  But there was more on Rowan’s mind than his lessons with Baird.

  Princess Eliza.

  Training with Baird had forced Rowan to miss their last meeting and had kept him too busy to try and find a new time to meet. It was all that he could do to not pass out as soon as he returned to the barracks each evening. He did not have the energy to sneak out at night and he felt sure that Darius was keeping a close eye on him besides. It would take time for him to reach out to the young princess, to figure out how to steal away unnoticed so that he could meet with her.

  The young princess, however, could not capture his full attention. Now that Rowan was spending time with his master, he began to grow concerned and curious about the work that Baird did outside of their lessons. When Baird began meeting with Rowan, he appeared weary and worn. Something was occupying his time, much of his time, and the strain was visible as his attitude changed. He became less energetic and like his usual self. He was more serious.

  As Rowan worked with Baird, the change in his master became more and more prominent despite his newly found free time which was spent with his apprentice.

  Baird would appear haggard and at times would become distracted, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. He even skipped several of their practice sessions, simply leaving instructions with a servant or trainer for Rowan to practice with Erik and his other friends under the guidance of Darius. Even absent, he was determined to keep Rowan occupied.

  Rowan worried. He resolved to ask his master what was so troubling, to tell him that he worried, and to offer to help. He was Baird’s apprentice and it was his place to assist his master.

  Finally Rowan worked up the courage to talk with him.

  It was on a day that his master arrived to their lesson late. The evening sun had yet to set and a slight chill was in the air. Rowan had been summoned and had come to the grounds of the castle proper. He waited for Baird, preparing himself to ask the question. He watched through the window of his master’s latest room as the sun sank, waiting until Baird finally arrived, giving no explanation as to what had kept him. He simply entered the room, closing the door behind him and moving to seat himself. The man looked worn despite his strength and posture. Whatever troubled him, it was deeper than physical exhaustion. Something weighed him down and caused his shoulders to sag.

  Once faced with his master, Rowan’s resolve seemed to fail him. But he had to know.

  “What is it that you do when you are not with me?” Rowan blurted the question without warning or hesitation.

  Baird froze, turning to look at Rowan carefully and thoughtfully.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I want to know what it is that troubles you and keeps you up so late at night and leaves you looking worn and tired. Why have you missed our practice sessions and why do I never get to hear about your duties outside of training? I have a right to know.” He had not meant to ask so many questions at once, nor had he meant to be so rushed. In his mind, he had planned how their conversation would go, and like most plans, it had gone well. But once he had spoken, the words came rushing out and now he could not take them back.

  Rowan breathed deepl
y to calm himself, a trick that Baird had taught him. A frenzied mind misses many things. A calm mind makes you perceptive, makes you dangerous.

  “There are many things that I do, Rowan. One of my main duties is to oversee the training of my apprentice. I am also responsible for the safety of the royal family, something that our young princess makes quite difficult. Outside of those two duties, I have many other obligations, none of which are very interesting—”

  “You are hiding something. Don’t lie to me and avoid the issue.”

  “I take it that this is not the first time it has been on your mind.” Rowan’s silence was answer enough. “You have many questions, Rowan, and many of the answers you seek are not easy for me to give. Some answers are not mine to share and must remain unspoken.” Baird seemed to regard Rowan thoughtfully, but he said nothing more.

  The silence between them grew, Rowan waiting for answers and Baird deep in thought. It was Baird who finally spoke.

  “Listen to me, Rowan. I trust you. You are a smart and honest boy and you are my apprentice. However, I am dealing with something that is far more significant than you or I. What is kept from you is for your own safety, not because of mistrust. There will be a time for you to know and understand the issues that I deal with, but this is not that time.”

  “But why not?” Rowan protested.

  “Because there are more important things than you!” Baird snapped. “What I deal with now is dangerous. Thanks to King Alden, our country has experienced peace and prosperity. But there are those who would upset this peaceful era, who disagree with our king. I can tell you nothing more than that I keep watch over such people. Now we will begin our lesson for the day and you will ask me no more questions.”

  Baird led Rowan to a study where the next several hours were spent discussing Lauratrean culture and language. Baird described the neighboring country to Rowan, telling him of the land and its people.

  Knowing that he would get no more information from his master by prying and asking about things which he refused to speak of, Rowan allowed himself to focus on the lesson, as he found Lauratrea interesting. The eastern country was completely different. Unlike Atlea, which saw snow during the months of winter, the East was a land of heat that had seen a true winter only once, and that was the winter that was said to have frozen the world for an age. It was a legend told even in Corrinth.

  “Lauratrea is a country with a much more varied population of peoples than ours.” Baird gestured towards the map hanging on the wall, depicting the many lands. It was filled with detail and markers showing cities and towns and landmarks. Empty areas indicated places that were untraveled. “It is far older and much larger than our own country. Because Lauratrea is very spread out and has absorbed large amounts of its lands over time, it has a very diverse culture which varies strongly from region to region, particularly those that are isolated or closer to the northern edge of the country where it is a much hotter and harsher environment. Some scholars believe that our people are distantly descended from the people of Lauratrea.”

  Rowan quickly dismissed the idea. The people in Corrinth had been there for generations, and he did not consider himself the descendant of some ancient foreign grandsire.

  “Unlike our country,” Baird continued, “Lauratrea has several leaders who are the equivalent of kings, though they all ultimately answer to the Sandstone Throne.”

  “Why call them kings if they answer to a king who is higher than them? It seems…” Rowan searched for the right word. “Redundant.”

  “They are not kings in title, I am using the term because it is familiar. They refer to themselves as high princes, or, if you are a foreigner, high lord might be passable so long as you show the proper respect, since they do not refer to their nobility as lords and ladies.”

  “But why have others who are like kings? Why give others a position of such power when it would disrupt your own?” Baird frowned at this, but made no comment. “They must have disagreements, which would lead to struggle, war, and chaos. How can they function?”

  “How can our own country function?” Baird asked.

  The question caught Rowan off guard. They were speaking of Lauratrea, not of their own country.

  “The nobility of our country function in much the same way as the high princes of Lauratrea.” Baird said. “They have wealth and power and all the influence that it affords them. They oppose and support the throne as they please, though they all remain loyal. They squabble amongst themselves and cause King Alden no small amount of frustration. Adding to this, we have the leaders of our armies, who command the king’s forces.”

  “That is different,” Rowan protested. “They all answer to the king. He commands his armies and all soldiers listen to him. He…” Rowan trailed off as he suddenly understood the point Baird was making. The difference between nobility and the high princes of Lauratrea was simply one of title, the power and influence were the same.

  “I don’t know that I like what I have learned.”

  “Because you better understand the power of wealth in our country? It is a hard thing to acknowledge, and it can be unnerving to know that the throne is not an absolute, all controlling power. But it is better to understand the way things function than to remain blindly ignorant. It is why I teach you.”

  Rowan nodded. Baird resumed talking about Lauratrea, but a question itched the back of Rowan’s mind, brought about by the mention of soldiers and armies and kings.

  “Why do we still train soldiers?” Rowan said, interrupting his master.

  “What?” Baird grunted, confused.

  “If King Alden is working towards peace between the nations, why do we still train so many soldiers? Why are more boys not apprenticed to craftsmen and merchants and such?”

  “You certainly do have a wandering mind,” Baird said. “I suppose that your question merits an answer, even if it is a complicated one.” Baird paused to collect his thoughts and Rowan waited patiently for his master to continue.

  “First and foremost, you must remember that there are many who do not become soldiers, and who have no wish to. It is a common path for young boys to take, but it is not necessary. The crown and the army accept recruits, but unless a war forced Alden’s hand, he would not conscript men.

  “I have travelled our country, Rowan, and not every place is like this. Rural areas and farmlands are often untouched and unaffected by such troubles as war or banditry, which suits them just fine. Small towns and villages like Corrinth function differently and do not require the presence of a police force to keep the king’s peace. Larger cities offer more opportunities for work, and the city guard serves to keep the peace. It is only in the borderlands, in the South and along the eastern and northeastern edges of the country that the presence of our armies is strong.”

  “But so many in Estoria are in training, even though there is no place for them here,” Rowan argued. “There is not even a standing army in the capitol, excepting the soldiers who guard the castle and the king’s guard.”

  “You must remember, Rowan, that your perspective is biased. You live in the barracks and you are always amongst the other boys in training. You do not often, if ever, see the city and its people. Estoria is not a large city, but it holds many people and you have seen very little of it. The training grounds are but a small, isolated section of the city. You see several hundred or so boys who are in training and think them a great number, but there are thousands more in the city.”

  Rowan’s shock must have shown on his face, for Baird laughed at him. He turned away to hide the flush of embarrassment. He had been through the city a few times and he thought he had a sense of the size, but living outside of Corrinth had not prepared him for the numbers of a city.

  “I should also mention that the capitol is different from other cities where boys go to train.”

  Rowan’s curiosity was roused, enough so that he forgot his fading embarrassment. “How is it different?”

  Baird star
ed back at Rowan in silence, leaving the question unanswered. Rowan knew without asking that he was supposed to think on his own question and try to find the answer. He could think of the many obvious reasons such as size and population. He spoke his thoughts aloud, as he often did when he was with Baird. His master would sometimes nod approvingly, letting him know he should continue with a certain thought or idea. Rarely would he frown or show disappointment, but when he did it was disheartening.

  As he spoke his thoughts, Rowan glanced at his master for some sign that he was on the right path. Baird watched him impassively, waiting for him to continue and giving no sign of approval. Rowan had expected little more. In such exercises, he often had to let his thoughts develop, building a foundation that brought him closer to a well thought answer. He expanded his mind, addressing the next obvious difference. “Estoria is the capitol.”

  Baird said nothing but Rowan could tell his answer was close.

  “The capitol is significant because it is the seat of King Alden.” The way that the edge of Baird’s mouth tugged imperceptibly upwards told Rowan that he was correct. But why? Unsatisfied, Rowan thought about the significance of the capitol, and the answer came with a quick and easy clarity.

  “Honor.”

  Baird grinned. “If you can answer your own questions, then perhaps you should use your head before you ask them.”

  “You prompted the question.”

  “And you found the answer,” Baird retorted lightly. “You are correct. Estoria is a small city when compared with places like Estion or Oscilliath or Tarabor. It is a long distance from most other areas, and it has a small standing army to which few are recruited For those who simply wish to become soldiers, it would be much easier and more practical to go to Oscilliath or the borderlands where they can train at any of the many permanent forts. Those who come here do not simply seek to become soldiers, they come for the honor that is to be had. The capitol is where a boy can learn from great trainers and work to distinguish himself.”