The Apprentice Read online

  Chapter 7

  The next morning was a new kind of hell for Rowan. His entire body ached and deep, violet bruises were beginning to blossom. He silently cursed Baird and his sword training. It took Rowan twice as long as it should have to wake and dress because he had to massage his stiff muscles, all of which felt, if not looked, as though they had taken a beating. The day before them was not going to be a pleasant one.

  “It is good that you are stretching,” Baird told Rowan. “Your muscles will protest today and your body will hurt, but you did well and it will get easier in time. Another day I will teach you the blade dance. It is a good way to stretch and practice at the same time. It will help you.”

  Rowan ignored the man. He did not want to think about continuing what he would consider to be a nightly beating. Instead he focused on preparing his body for the day of travelling ahead them.

  Once ready, they immediately headed for the village. They had been camped barely a mile away, the lights they saw at night having been deceptive. It was a short walk, but Rowan was glad when they arrived. His legs were beginning to tire from the days of walking and his body pained him everywhere, though he tried his best to hide it. The village was of a good size, with over a dozen houses and a farm or two in the nearby area. There were a few trade shops and even a blacksmith. Corrinth had a blacksmith, a man who worked with metals, but his shop had been small. To Baird, however, the village seemed to be nothing special. Rowan noticed that he did not so much as spare the shops a glance.

  The people of the village gave them lingering looks, but none approached them or seemed to mind their presence. Baird walked through the village as though he had passed through many times and belonged. Rowan did not feel the same. He followed as Baird led him towards the village square, seeing in this village many resemblances to his home, though the land and the people were as different as night and day.

  The village square was not quite filled, but there were a number of men and a few women who were going about their business.

  “Good day,” Baird said, singling one man out and approaching him.

  The villager looked at Baird, taking in his size and the sword at his waist. The man spared a quick glance for Rowan, but little more. “Goodday. S’there sumthin I can help ye with?”

  Rowan struggled to understand a word the man had said, but Baird continued without pause.

  “The two of us are passing through here on our way to Attica. We are hoping that it is close.” Baird asked no question, but his statement asked for an answer.

  “I reckon Attica be somewhat close. S’pose it depends on how far close be, eh?”

  “I was hoping it would be little more than a day away?” Baird glanced towards the mountains on the horizon as though trying to measure the distance.

  The village man chuckled. “Attica be a mite further’n a day away. T’aint far, but I haven’t been ‘cept with a cart’n’wagon. You be several days from Attica, fellows. Several days, with a village or two ‘tween here and there. I reckon you could make the city in under three days.” He spared Rowan another glance before he added, “Three days if you be quick of foot and dun be laggin.”

  Rowan wanted to protest but Baird spoke before him. “Thank you for your help. It is much appreciated.” After learning a brief bit about the villages they would pass on their way and where they might purchase some food, they left the villager to his work. They found a kindly wife who sold them some food, which they ate while they walked, leaving the unnamed village behind them.

  The day was much the same as the one before it had been. Hills surrounded them and trees were scarce. The weather was warm and the hills kept much of the wind from bothering them. Occasionally they met others on the road, but it was rare with so few settlements around. When they did pass a stranger, Baird always seemed to require a second glance. Rowan knew that he looked the image of a farm boy, appearing as though he belonged in the village they had passed. But Baird was a large man, standing at least a full hand and a half above most men. His size and the sword at his waist drew attention. Rowan quickly discovered that Baird was not a very social person. He had little to say and tended to avoid strangers. What few people they passed on the road had no chance to converse with them. While Rowan longed to question them and learn the news of the outside world, Baird was not similarly inclined. He gave greetings, but offered no friendly smiles, made no small talk, and did not stop.

  “Be wary. Be cautious,” Baird told him.

  Rowan guessed that Baird was avoiding strangers and other travelers because of what had happened, because he had been attacked. The knight had still given no explanation, and though Rowan was curious, he was too afraid to ask. So he made little fuss when Baird avoided stopping to converse with travelers.

  But it was not only travelers that Baird avoided conversing with. Rowan found that Baird had little to say while they walked. He answered any questions asked of him but offered nothing freely.

  A short while after midday, they passed a second village much like the first. This time Baird did not stop to talk, so Rowan received no rest. They walked throughout the day, travelling at a good pace, though the mountains looked no closer to Rowan.

  That evening, Baird had Rowan duel him using the cane-like sticks. Rowan did his best, but he was exhausted long before Baird was ready to stop. By the end, Rowan could feel new bruises and his body ached. By morning, he had more bruises and a few welts, some on top of previously existing ones. Rising from sleep was hard and painful, and his body seemed to resist and protest his every movement.

  True to his word the day before, Baird showed Rowan an exercise which he called the blade dance. It was a long series of poses that began from a simple position and went through a series of motions that stretched and worked the body, becoming increasingly difficult as it progressed. Rowan could not complete it, and Baird would not let him skip a position and continue with the following one. Instead, he forced Rowan to watch the whole series several times through until he was confident that Rowan could repeat it in its entirety, once able. The exercise took time and when they were done, Rowan was left sweating and the sun had risen.

  They set out at a pace that seemed as though Baird wished to make up for the time lost in teaching Rowan the blade dance. They travelled hard and fast, though Baird allowed the pace to slow after a few hours. Rowan’s feet ached but he ignored them. They passed another two villages, the second being much larger than either of the previous ones. Rowan thought it was at least twice the size of Corrinth. The day passed and quickly ended with the same nightly ritual, only this time Baird had Rowan perform as much of the sword dance as he was able to before and after their swordplay.

  Their third day of travel was disappointing and did not find them in Attica. On the fourth day, however, they finally reached their destination.

  * * *

  It was almost midday when Attica came into sight. Not long before they had passed through a town large enough that Rowan had mistaken it for the city until Baird laughed and corrected him. Rowan’s face had reddened with shame. It was, he thought, an easy mistake to make. He continued to think so up until the city itself came into view. Once Rowan could see Attica, even from a distance he could easily see how vastly different it was from anything he expected.

  From miles away, Rowan could see just how large Attica was. It spread out across the land, covering an area that could have held the entirety of Corrinth at least five times over, perhaps more. It was entirely surrounded by a wall that stood as tall as any tree, and outside of the wall were many people and stalls and a few small buildings. As they approached, Rowan noticed that no structure or stall stood within a stone’s throw of the wall.

  “It is to keep anyone from using such things to climb the wall. A wall keeps out the unwanted, but it does not work if it is easy to scale,” Baird explained.

  “Why is there a wall at all?”

  “We have come a good distance east and are far in the North. The Vale is shelte
red and does not experience many troubles or see many outsiders, which is why you do not know the dangers. Here we are close to the border of two nations. To the east lies Lauratrea. To the north lies Terratreos, inhabited by the many different clans and tribes. They are raiders and fighters, as savage and harsh as the land they hold. There has not been raiding in a long time, but the cities and villages of the North have lasting memories. Thus, the wall.”

  Baird led Rowan towards the city entrance where two watchmen waved them through the gate. This city was unlike anything Rowan had seen before. The streets were crowded with vendors and people, and beyond the hubbub of the market, Rowan could see rows and rows of elaborate stone buildings. And all was framed by the Bjorn Mountains in the distance, reaching upwards into the sky.

  Baird did not seem awed by the city, but Rowan struggled to take everything in at once. There were so many different sights and sounds and smells, not all of which were pleasant, and every one of them seemed to assault his senses. For a moment he stood among the crowd, feeling entirely overwhelmed and lost. The press of bodies was uncomfortable; people seemed to be moving in every possible direction at once, leaving no room to walk. Luckily Baird moved towards the side of the street and away from the main gate where there was a constant flow of people, and Rowan was able to follow in his wake. As he moved, Rowan was shoved from behind, causing him to stumble forward.

  “Hey! Watch where you’re going,” Rowan shouted, turning back as a small boy darted past him. Rowan would have let the conflict end there, but Baird’s arm suddenly shot out and he grabbed the boy, holding him fast by the neck of his shirt.

  “Aiy! Leggo’a me, I ain’t done nothin’ wrong,” the kid protested, struggling against Baird’s grip. Baird yanked the boy backwards and held him tightly.

  “We’ll see about that,” Baird said. “Rowan, check your purse.”

  “Why—,” Rowan broke off as he found his wallet missing. He tried to take a swipe at the boy but Baird stopped him.

  “There’s no need for violence,” Baird said. He then kneeled down to face his still struggling captive. “Are you going to give back what you took?”

  “I did’un take ennithin’,” the boy insisted. Baird let go of the boy’s collar and instead grabbed his ear, giving it a slight twist. “Ow! A’right, I’ll give ‘is munni back.”

  The boy threw the purse at Rowan and Baird let go. As soon as he was freed, the boy tried to leave, but Baird stopped him again.

  “Leggo’a me. I gave the munni back.”

  “Yes, you did,” Baird agreed, not releasing his hold on the boy’s arm. “What is your name, boy?”

  The boy glared and remained silent, but Baird stared at him as though he had all the time in the world. He idly squeezed the boy’s arm, reminding him that he was not going to escape any time soon. The situation made Rowan grin.

  “Name’s Arry.”

  “Well, Arry, how would you like to earn some money,” Baird said, holding out a large silver coin. Arry made a grab for it, but Baird was quicker and pulled his hand away and the boy caught nothing but empty air.

  “Not so fast. You have to earn this. Now do you want to listen to what I have to say or not?”

  “Aye,” Arry replied, retreating out of Baird’s reach and eyeing the coin greedily.

  “I need you to help us find a decent inn where we can stay the night. And I want to know where I can buy a pair of horses.”

  “They keep horses in stables outside far side of town. But I dun’t know who the beasties belong to or ennnithin. I dun bother mis’lf wid’em cos I can’t eat ‘em an’ I can’t buy ‘em an’ I can’t use ‘em.”

  “That is fine. It is enough to know that there are horses kept there. There are always men willing to sell their beasts for the right price. Right now, lodging is a more important need.”

  “Ya’ cin stay at the Cloak & Dagger,” Arry said. “That’s run by Ma’ Primm. It’s a right place and she won’t ask too many questions. I’ll take ya there,” Arry said, darting off into the crowd. Baird and Rowan shared a glance before following the boy towards the heart of the city.

  * * *

  The Cloak & Dagger was certainly not the most extravagant of places. Rowan took one glance at the place and cringed. The wide two-story building looked as though it should have collapsed in on itself long ago. The building had a slight lean to it and there were a number of cracks in its outer layer. What windows still remained were dark and dirty, and the whole outside seemed to have collected several layers of grime. It smelled of urine and vomit and other scents that attacked the senses.

  They had passed many different buildings on their way here. Rowan had heard music coming from some while others smelled of food and spices. A few had beautiful girls standing outside, calling to them as they passed. Any of those would have been a nice place to stay, but Baird had passed them all by without so much as a backwards glance, choosing this place instead.

  The walk to the inn had been relatively uneventful, though Rowan had spent the entire journey with his purse clutched tightly to his side, shooting suspicious glances at Arry, who did not seem to mind or feel sorry. Arry had led them down several of the darker and dingier streets towards the east side of the city where they found their lodgings. He refused to actually enter the Cloak & Dagger, saying that Ma’ Primm would make him work off some of the food he had borrowed, but he did remind Baird that he could find the stables outside of the west gate. As promised, Baird relinquished the coin to the boy, who took his payment and left.

  “Why must we stay here?”

  “Because I’m not rich and it seems like a decent place. When you have slept in some of the places that I have, you can appreciate any place that offers a bed,” Baird responded. “Besides, no one will try to steal from you in a place like this. Any thief will know that you have nothing worth taking.”

  “No one would steal from you anyway,” Rowan muttered, rubbing his bruises. “They would look at the size of you and think it a bad idea, even without knowing that you are skilled with a blade.”

  “You should not be complaining. You will be sleeping in a bed instead of on the ground. And I am paying. Be glad for what you get.”

  Rowan grumbled in annoyance but said nothing more. One look at the Cloak & Dagger made him think that he might be better off sleeping in a stable. At least there the smell would not be so bad.

  Baird and Rowan entered the Cloak & Dagger and found themselves in a relatively deserted tavern, which was hardly surprising given the time of day. The room was spacious and filled with tables, most of which were empty. A few people were present, scattered around the dimly lit room in hollow recesses along the wall and at some of the tables. Rowan felt out of place. A shiver ran down his spine as he received stares from the room’s occupants. A large man stood behind the bar, cleaning a dirty glass with a rag that was equally dirty, if not more so. Baird walked confidently across the room and leaned against the bar, grunting loudly to make sure he had the barkeep’s attention, though he clearly did. There wasn’t a face in the room that didn’t have an eye on the two of them.

  “Do you need something?”

  “I’d like a drink for me and my companion,” Baird said, opening his purse and tossing some coins onto the counter. The bartender took the cup that he had been cleaning and began to fill it but Rowan stopped him.

  “Do you have a different cup?”

  The bartender glared daggers at Rowan but Baird tossed an extra coin on the counter to placate the man.

  “Clean cups, please,” he said, smiling. “Thank you.”

  The man grumbled under his breath, offended, but he set the dirty glass down. Baird motioned for Rowan to follow his lead as he sat. The bartender poured them their drinks and then returned to cleaning his glass, occasionally glaring at them from across the bar.

  Rowan gulped his drink and fought the urge to spit it out. The liquid burned his throat as he swallowed and made his head swim. Baird drained half of his glass
and wiped his mouth, slamming the cup back onto the counter and motioning the bartender to refill the drink. While he was waiting, Baird spoke to the bartender again.

  “I’m going to need a room for myself and my companion,” Baird stated, taking his refill.

  “How long are ya’ going to be staying?”

  “Just for the night,” Baird said. “I have business to attend to today and should be done by tomorrow if no difficulties arise.”

  “Just a moment,” the bartender said. He turned and left the bar, leaving Baird and Rowan alone for a few minutes. He returned shortly with a pair of old rusty keys, which he relinquished only after Baird had paid for the room.

  “You’ll find your room upstairs,” he said, pointing to a staircase in the back. “Do whatever you want, all we ask is that you don’t bring your business back here with you and you keep things clean. I don’t want trouble. If you need something, I’ll be here, or you can call on Ma’ Primm when she is around. You’ll know her when you see her.”

  Something told Rowan that they should not expect very much from the bartender in the ways of service or help. The man turned away and left Baird and Rowan to their drinks. Rowan tried to swallow another sip, but he could not stomach it and pushed the glass away. Baird quickly downed his own drink and then took Rowan’s.

  “Come. There is no reason to linger. Let’s go find the room and then I will head out.”

  They found their room towards the end of the second story hallway. It was about as bare as a room could be, adorned simply by a bed, a chair, and a rug. Rowan took one look at the rug covering the greater portion of the right side of the room and decided to claim the bed. He hopped onto the mattress and began to settle in.

  “Do not get overly comfortable. You will be sleeping on the floor tonight,” Baird said, lightly pushing Rowan aside and tossing his travel pack onto the bed.

  “But that’s not fair, you said—”