The Apprentice Page 4

  Rowan closed his eyes, trying to clear his thoughts. He did not want to think of such things, but they were difficult to forget.

  After the incident in the woods, Rowan had followed the knight as he tried to leave. The knight had made his way onward and Rowan had stubbornly followed him without a word or a protest. The knight was strong and quick, but as the trees began to thin and the storm grew worse, his pace slowed to a crawl. But the man had seemed determined to let nothing stop him.

  “Turn back,” Rowan remembered urging him. “We must turn back and shelter in Corrinth or return to my home.” Rowan’s pleas had fallen on deaf ears. The knight had glared at him. But although he had said nothing, it had been the first time he acknowledged Rowan.

  When the storm had forced a halt, instead of turning back and seeking safety, the man sought refuge among the roots of an ancient tree. Rowan joined him, earning a glare but no argument. The tree’s roots were large and widely spread, offering some protection from wind and rain.

  “Why not turn back?” Rowan had asked, trying to elicit some kind of response. “What could be so important that you would risk your life in this just to gain a few hours worth of travel?”

  “I should not stay. It would be dangerous to remain in this place any longer.”

  Rowan had not understood why the man was so determined to leave, but he had eventually been able to make the stranger see reason. The man had agreed to return with Rowan and leave once the storm allowed.

  Returning had proven no less difficult than leaving. The going was slow and the elements fought against them. The winds howled and the forest floor was treacherously muddy. Branches broke off trees and were hurled by the wind like spears. What had taken barely an hour in better weather took twice as long. But eventually they had made it back.

  Neither Rowan nor the knight had spoken of the death upon their return. Brennon had questioned them at length, worried and curious as to what had taken them so long. Had Rowan turned back when he should have, he would have returned much sooner. He blamed the storm, and eventually Brennon had stopped questioning.

  The storm continued to rage outside. Rowan could not help but wonder why the knight had been willing to face such weather. There were many questions that he had, and he was determined to get his answers.

  The door to Rowan’s room opened and shut as someone joined him. Rowan did not need to look to know that it was not the man he wanted to talk with. After so many years, Rowan knew the tread of his brother’s footsteps. Petar may not be who Rowan wished to speak to at the moment, but his brother was still welcome company.

  There were a few moments of silence before Rowan turned to acknowledge his brother.

  “Did Father ask you to speak with me?”

  “No. He didn’t have to. I am curious myself. What happened that kept the two of you outside in the storm for so long?”

  “It was nothing.” The lie was obvious, but Rowan was not overly worried. He could not keep Petar from recognizing that he was lying, he could only keep him from understanding the reason that he was lying. He could keep Petar from learning about the dead man.

  “Did you ask the knight about leaving with him?”

  Rowan nodded.

  “What did he say? How did you convince him to return with you? Does this mean that he agreed?”

  “He did nothing. I tried to leave with him and he would not take me. I followed him anyways and eventually the storm forced him to turn around.”

  “So you are no better off now than you were before. Perhaps you should give up. Maybe you were not meant to leave this way. Life here is not so bad.”

  “That is how you feel. You know how I feel.”

  “Then what will you do?”

  “I will force that man to take me with him. This storm has kept him here, so I have until it ends to convince him.”

  Petar looked Rowan in the eyes. “I won’t hold you back, Rowan. But you should be sure that this is what you want.” Petar said nothing after that. He left Rowan to himself, for which Rowan was grateful. He needed solitude. There were many things that he could share with his brother, but this was not one of them.

  For a long time Rowan did nothing more than sit and listen to the sound of the storm. He kept expecting his father to come and speak with him, for something to happen that would disrupt his meditations, but nothing did. Eventually Rowan grew bored and pulled out one of the texts he kept, flipping through the familiar pages. The markings blurred together. Rowan did not bother trying to concentrate on reading each one. The pages held no secrets from him.

  Dinner that evening was a quiet affair with little conversation. The storm continued to rage and the howling wind seemed to be the only voice. Rowan’s father spoke very little and Petar seemed unwilling to talk, though Rowan found himself the object of his brother’s gaze more than once. The knight kept his silence and Rowan ate his own meal with little enthusiasm, though he was grateful for the warmth of the meat and the heat from the fire.

  It was an unspoken tradition that when a storm came, Brennon would tell Petar and Rowan tales and histories after their supper. He had started this when they were very young. Rowan had always enjoyed stormy nights and the stories his father had told, even after he grew older and knew that most of the tales were fantasy. By Rowan’s thirteenth year, the stories had ended and been replaced by local histories. They were never as interesting, but they were still tradition. Yet there would be no tales that night. After Brennon finished his meal, he ordered Rowan and Petar to clean up before he retired for the evening.

  Petar helped Rowan to clean but soon he too retired, leaving Rowan alone with the knight, who it seemed would be placed with Rowan yet again. That suited Rowan just fine. He needed to have his questions answered.

  “We need to talk,” Rowan said aloud as he washed his plate. He did not address the knight directly, but there was no one else with them.

  “There is nothing to speak of.”

  “I have questions and you will give me my answers.”

  “You make it seem as though I am obligated to answer you. Do you not plan to follow me as I leave? That was your plan before, yet now you seem unsure. It would seem to me that giving you answers will only encourage you.”

  “You owe me at least one answer,” Rowan whispered. He did not want to be overheard.

  “I owe you nothing.”

  “Then why did you return instead of leaving? Why come back here with me rather than going to town, where you could leave me behind?”

  Silence. Rowan left the dishes to soak and turned around, but he found the knight gone and the door to his room ajar. Rowan followed, crossing the room quickly and quietly, shutting the door behind him so that any words they spoke would not carry. He stood blocking the only exit and stared at the man, determined to continue the conversation.

  “Why did you kill that man?” Of all things, Rowan needed an answer to that question more than any other. He wanted to leave, but he would not follow a murderer. Not without a reason. “Are you even a true knight or are you just a man with a sword who hides behind a title? Are you just a killer?”

  The knight ignored Rowan. He closed his eyes, turned away and said nothing. Rowan repeated his question. He was determined to get an answer and he was nothing if not stubborn. After Rowan asked the same question two more times, the knight finally spoke.

  “Will you ever be quiet? Gods, you are perseverant.”

  Rowan did not know the word that the man had used, but he knew it was not positive. He did not want to ask its meaning. “Will you give me an answer?”

  “I killed that man because he tried to kill me. I will say no more.”

  “Why would that man try to kill you?”

  The big man stared at Rowan. “You need to learn when to hold your tongue.”

  “I watched you kill a man. He was alive one moment and he was dead the next, because of you. You murdered him.”

  “I am a knight, death will always follow me. I have ki
lled men before, ended their lives as I did today. But there is a difference between murder and killing. I do not seek to end lives, but I will do so when I must.”

  “And it was necessary to kill that man?”

  “Better his death than my own. Had he lived—,” the knight stopped mid-sentence. Rowan could tell that he had been about to let slip something he did not want to say, something that would provide some measure of explanation for his actions.

  “I need not justify myself to you,” the knight said simply. “Perhaps this will dissuade you from your foolish attempts to follow me when I leave.”

  “It won’t.”

  Rowan did not know why he spoke the words. Inside he was filled with conflict and mistrust, his need to escape tempered by caution and worry. He had seen the knight kill, and the man showed no signs of remorse or guilt.

  The knight turned to face him, a strange look in his eyes.

  “What makes you say that, boy?”

  Rowan hesitated. He was not entirely sure why he was so determined. The knight could be a very dangerous man. He was a dangerous man. But he was not evil, and Rowan’s gut told him the knight was worth trusting. He had paid well for shelter and food, a trait so often undervalued when applied to strangers, and he had not harmed Rowan in any way, though he could have easily done so. Rowan knew that if he had been safe with the knight out in the storm after what he had witnessed, then he would be safe enough travelling with the knight on the road to the capitol.

  Adding to that, it was clear that the knight was hiding something from him. Rowan suspected the man was more than who he claimed to be. And curiosity drove Rowan forward.

  “You could have killed me today. A man with evil in his heart would have done so. I witnessed what you did and you had no guarantee I would keep such a thing secret.”

  “I was leaving,” the knight said evenly. “Once gone, why would I care what you told people? The body was likely to be lost in the storm. Even if it was found, no one would have known that man and no one knows me.”

  “You gave us your name.”

  “And you trust that to be my true name?”

  Rowan flushed. He had not thought of such a thing, for he had never had a reason to hide his own name. Everyone he met knew him, if not by name then by face. If not as Rowan then as Brennon’s boy.

  “Had I left, it would not matter what you saw or what you said. I would be gone and no one would have followed me beyond the valley. At worst, I would be forced to avoid this…village. An easy thing to do.”

  “Still, a man with true darkness in his heart would have killed me.”

  “You are sure of that?” the knight asked, his hand on his blade and a dangerous look on his face.

  Rowan tried to not let his fear show. “Yes.”

  The knight’s expression disappeared and he released his grip on his sword. Rowan relaxed as the tension diminished. He released a breath he had not known he had been holding.

  “You are a problem. I cannot have you following me, as I do not doubt you will when I leave. And it would be troublesome to leave you here.” The knight spoke aloud to himself. “What can I do?”

  Rowan sensed his chance and took it.

  “Take me with you. If you take me willingly, I will cause no problems and you will not need to worry about what I will do once you leave.”

  The knight looked at Rowan with a serious expression, reminding him of his father whenever he warned of serious dangers. “I told you before that I am not worried about justice being sought. It could prove troublesome if word left this village, but not for the reasons that you think.

  “It was a poor decision on my part to shelter in your home, and it was black luck that you saw what you did. Now you will be a liability or a responsibility.”

  Rowan wondered what the knight meant by ‘a liability or a responsibility.’ He waited but no more discussion seemed forthcoming. He thought of speaking, breaking the silence to try and force the conversation to continue, but he found that he did not know what to say. There was nothing left unsaid.

  Sensing that their exchange was at an end, Rowan wet the tips of his finger and pinched the candle wicks, extinguishing the lights one by one. Darkness filled the room as the last light went out. Rowan lay his head on his pillow, shifting about as he tried to find a comfortable sleeping position.

  Rowan kept his eyes open, though it was far too dark to see. A silence filled the room that Rowan found discomforting. It was not a peaceful silence, for outside the wind still howled and he could hear many strange sounds. Branches scratched against the walls, trees groaned and creaked, and the occasional thunderclap echoed loudly. Yet something was missing. It took a moment for Rowan to realize that it was the absence of a sound—the steady breathing of a sleeper—that he noticed.

  He shifted his position and looked towards the knight. By now Rowan’s eyes were able to make out vague shapes in the darkness. Everything was shades of gray, but he could see the man's outline. The big man lay facing away from him, so Rowan could not see his face. The man’s chest rose and fell with a steady rhythm, but Rowan guessed that he was not asleep.

  “Boy?”

  Rowan started at the sound of the man’s voice, thinking that he had been caught staring.

  “Boy?”

  The knight spoke again, his voice little more than a whisper, as though he hoped that Rowan would not hear him. Rowan watched, but the man did not move.

  “The worst of this storm has passed. I will leave in the morning,” the knight said. Rowan could not tell if the man knew that Rowan was awake and was speaking to him or if the man was talking aloud to himself. But his next words were clearly meant for Rowan.

  “Estoria is a long ways south from here, all the way past the plains. It is a very difficult journey to make, and I travel fast and hard.” He paused. “If you truly wish to leave, I have decided that I am willing to take you with me. I expect your answer before I depart.”

  Rowan said nothing, although his mind raced. He could finally leave. It would not be in the manner that he had expected, nor would it be in the best of company, but he would be leaving. He shut his eyes and allowed dreams of the morrow and the future to fill him.

  Chapter 5

  The next morning found Rowan unsure of what to do. Had it been a normal day, he would have risen, eaten, and begun his chores. But today was different. He was leaving, and that meant many things.

  He woke early but found the knight already risen and gone, as it had been the day before. Rowan was glad to be alone. He did not look forward to dealing with the consequences of his decision. He lay abed for a while thinking on how he might talk with his father. Brennon would forbid him from leaving, but Rowan was not going to allow words to stop him. He considered avoiding the issue and simply leaving, but knew that he could not do such a thing. He would face his family and tell them the truth, no matter how difficult it was. And it would be difficult.

  Rowan rose from bed and went about preparing breakfast. As he made his meal, he was joined by Petar. The two spoke very little as they sat down to eat. Rowan glanced at his brother a few times, wondering if it would be better to tell Petar about his decision now or if he should wait until he had to talk to Brennon. He was close with his brother and talking to him would be considerably easier.

  “So are you going to leave?” Petar asked, pushing his breakfast to the side and staring at Rowan. “I heard you talking with the stranger last night and I know you’ve wanted to leave for a while.”

  The question caught Rowan off guard. He took a moment and gathered his thoughts, deciding what to say.

  “Does Brennon know?”

  “I don’t think so,” Petar said. He waited before continuing. “So you’re really going to leave?”

  “Yes. I just haven’t figured out how to tell Brennon.”

  “Tell me what?”

  Rowan and Petar both turned in surprise. They had been so focused on each other that neither had noticed Brennon entering. R
owan sat in silence, debating whether or not to speak.

  “What was I going to be told?” Brennon prompted.

  Rowan waited several moments to see if his father was going to focus his attention elsewhere before he finally resigned himself to the coming conversation.

  “The knight offered to let me travel with him.”

  “I assume that you told him no,” Brennon said. “After all, with the harvest right around the corner—”

  “I haven’t told him anything yet,” Rowan interrupted. “But I intend to go with him.”

  “You will do no such thing!” Brennon shouted. He waited a moment before continuing in a softer tone. “Rowan, I understand your desire to leave; I felt the same way when I was young. But my father needed me and I stayed in order to help him. Just like my father needed me, I need you to stay and help me and Petar run the farm. Perhaps in a year or two we’ll be able to manage without you, but for now you have to stay here.”

  Rowan listened to his father, angry at the decision that Brennon was forcing onto him. He stood up and stormed down the hallway to his room, leaving the remainder of his breakfast behind.

  Rowan slammed his door. He did not want to stay, and he knew that in a couple of years the situation would remain unchanged. His father would likely need even more help then. If he did not leave now, he never would. Brennon’s stubbornness was only making his decision harder than it had to be. He still planned on leaving.

  Why can’t he just wish me well and approve of my decision? I don’t want to leave fighting with him.

  It did not take long for Rowan to become too restless to sit still, so he focused his energy on deciding what to take with him. He looked around his room, taking in all of his possessions. There wasn’t a lot that Rowan actually owned, but even so he could not take it all. He got up and paced around the room. Everything he kept was precious to him, and he began to realize just how much he was going to leave behind.