The Apprentice Read online

  “I know what I said. I also paid for the room, which means I get the bed and you will be grateful to have a roof above your head.” Baird’s words were harsh but his tone was light and his mouth tugged upwards in a grin. He seemed to be enjoying his authority over Rowan. “Besides, who ever said that life was fair? I agreed to take you along with me and I have adopted you as my apprentice. The floor should not be such a hard price to pay.”

  Rowan grumbled but said nothing. Baird had been willing to take him away from Corrinth, and he was grateful, even though his journey had not been one of comfort and the knight was not what Rowan would consider a generous companion. Still, it would be nice to have a roof above their heads and walls around them to keep the cold of the night at bay, even if the walls looked a bit flimsy and the ceiling seemed ready to collapse. Looking upwards, Rowan was glad there had been no sign of rain. He saw no holes or cracks in the roofing, but that was not enough to earn his trust.

  “I am going to try to find someone willing to sell a pair of horses. I will be back at sundown, so until then you may feel free to do as you wish. Just make sure that you can find your way back here by nightfall. And do not leave the city,” Baird made sure to emphasize this point very strongly. “They close all the gates to the city after dark so make sure you do not leave, else they will not allow you back inside until first light.”

  “I’ll make sure to remember that,” Rowan said with a grin.

  With Baird gone, Rowan decided that he needed to bathe. Days of travelling had left him smelling as only an unwashed man can. Suddenly conscious of his smell, he went down to the common room to find some warm water. He found the man at the bar still polishing the glass. Whether it was the same glass Rowan could not tell, but it was equally dirty.

  “We haven’t got a washroom. If yer’ lookin’ to wash, you’ll be needing a wash basin.” The barman looked around as if to make sure his customers would not miss his absence before he went to a storeroom.

  What he returned with was dirty and old, bearing cracks along the rim. It was useable, but only if a person was truly desperate. It looked to Rowan as though the basin would soil any water added to it and he wondered to himself if the barman had chosen it on purpose.

  “Ye’ll find water out back. It isn’t hot but there’s nothin’ for it. Carry it to yer room if ya’ wish for privacy, but don’t make a mess.”

  He shoved the basin towards Rowan and left him alone. Out back was a small fenced area where a horse or two might be stabled. There were no animals at present, but the stalls smelled as bad as if there were. It was dirty ground and Rowan knew he would have to wash his feet inside if he ever hoped them to be clean.

  Along the back wall of the inn was a large stone basin filled with water. Beside it were two barrels of water, both looking marginally cleaner than the stone basin.

  Looking at the cracks in the washbasin, Rowan realized he would not have the luxury of privacy. He stripped off his shirt and poured water over his head, bending over to keep the wetness from reaching his pants. They could do with a rinsing as well, but that would have to come later. The water was cold but refreshing, and Rowan hurriedly scrubbed himself clean. He washed himself several times over, making sure to get an extra fill of water for his feet, which he rinsed after reaching the back stairs.

  Feeling much better, Rowan went back to the room, taking the washbasin with him. He placed it on the lone chair in the room, stripped and donned a new set of clothing, and then returned to the bed to rest. It was lumpy and hard, the mattress thin and worn. The planks of wood holding it up sagged in the middle and the pillow Rowan placed behind his back was stiff like a rock. Still, it felt good to be able to relax, to give his body a rest, so he enjoyed the time that he had to himself. After days of travelling, his body was in dire need of rest. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He thought of his brother and his father, wondering how they were doing without him. The thought of his family made his chest ache but he pushed aside the pain. He was sad to be gone, he could not deny it. But he could not go back, and wouldn’t even if he could. He was not ready to return. He would be ready someday, but not for a long time.

  Despite his exhaustion and his aches, Rowan felt compelled to do something. He retrieved his book from his pack. Rowan opened the text and read, as he had many times before, but he found that he could not lose himself within the words as once he had. For years they had been his escape, his link to a foreign world that he wished to be a part of. Now that he was gone, the words had lost some of their magic. He replaced the book and paced the room restlessly. It was beginning to feel cramped. Opening the window let in some air that, while not fresh, was at least not stale. What little he could see of the city called out to him. Voices sounded from the streets, smells wafted up through the air, some pleasant and others less so. Rowan felt a sudden yearning to go exploring. His earlier experience had been rather poor, but the allure of a true city was too great to ignore just because it was crowded.

  He locked the door to the room behind him as he left. He received several glances as walked down the stairs and left the Cloak & Dagger the way he had entered with Baird.

  Inside the tavern it had been dark and quiet, but outside the sun shone down on Rowan and the city came alive. There was little that interested him nearby, and he found the smell difficult to stomach. It reeked of many things that could not be washed away. But as he wandered the streets and began to make his way into the heart of the city, the stench lessened and the crowds grew.

  Rowan navigated his way through the crowds, taking in the sights and the sounds and the smells, viewing the different stalls that vendors had set up along the sides of the streets and in the squares, interacting with a people and a culture that was new to him.

  The entire city seemed alive and active. Everywhere Rowan went there were shops and crowds and vendors who would shout at him, trying to get him to buy something. There were people in the alleys begging for change. Rowan tossed a few coins to the first beggar that he saw, a young woman with only three limbs. Other beggars quickly tried to take the coins and after a short scuffle, the woman still held one of the coins but wore several bruises.

  Rowan avoided spending his money, but he could not help allowing the occasional shopkeeper the chance to show him their wares and try to persuade him to buy something.

  A lesson Rowan learned quickly was that he had to be careful with his money. His previous experience had taught him to keep a hand on his purse, but there were other ways that one could lose money. A vendor who was very domineering and persuasive convinced Rowan, against his better judgment, to buy a miniature knife. Soon afterwards, the handle cracked in half and Rowan dropped the blade. It fell to the ground and chipped in several places, making it useless. Rowan had returned to the vendor and tried to return it, explaining that it had broken and he wanted his money back, but the man wouldn’t have it. After much persistence and arguing, Rowan had tossed the blade to the ground and walked away, ignoring the shouts of the vendor.

  Handling money was not the only thing he found himself ignorant of. There were many customs that he was unaware of. Some did not want their wares to be touched or tested, only examined from a distance. Rowan learned this when he stopped at a large tent to examine some sort of stringed instrument, much like a small harp, that had caught his eye. Intrigued, he had picked it up and was about to pluck one of its strings when the owner noticed and came running over. The man had grimaced but said nothing until he found out that Rowan was just looking, at which point he snatched the instrument back and delicately returned it to its stand. Rowan had made a second mistake by staying, for which he was hustled away, learning several new curses and an intriguing gesture involving two fingers and a flick of the wrist. Had it not been directed at him by a very angry man, he might have found it amusing.

  Rowan avoided that particular area after his encounter, but he found that most other vendors and shop owners were much more welcoming. He was surprised at how much
the city had to offer. It seemed that he could buy or find almost anything he could ever want. He even found a store that was dedicated entirely to books. They all had thick bindings and the pages were filled with intricate designs and golden letters. He spent quite a while in this shop and wished very much that he could buy something, but the thought of having to carry anything he purchased when he and Baird left was enough to stop him.

  As he left the book store, Rowan heard a clamor from down the street. He craned his neck to see over people, but was not tall enough. Whatever the commotion was, it was coming in his direction. He suddenly found the people pressed tightly together as they were forced to make way in the street for a group of men carrying a covered sedan chair. Men wearing swords walked with them, obviously guards. They watched the crowd parting around them with wary eyes, as if expecting the people to attack. The pair leading the small procession made sure none got in their way, giving an occasional shove or sharp word to those who did not step quickly enough.

  As quickly as it had come, the disturbance was gone and the street was flooded with people again, leaving Rowan free to move. He watched the sedan chair float above the heads of the crowd, slowly progressing down the street. To Rowan, it seemed a slow way to travel.

  After that, Rowan chose to take a break from wandering the streets. They were crowded and dirty and he had grown hot standing among the many bodies. A sign with a man wearing a patchwork cloak playing the pipe and dancing a jig caught his eye and he wandered inside. The inn was called the Merry Piper and seemed a good deal warmer and more welcoming than the Cloak & Dagger. Most of the tables were filled and serving girls made their way around with drinks in hand. Men ate and drank and laughed, and in the back a graying man was playing music. Those nearest clapped in time and sang the words to a song Rowan had never heard.

  Rowan had coin in his purse but he was not yet hungry so he ordered a sweet cider and watched a pair of men playing at stones. He knew the game but did not play well. He observed for a few minutes but neither man seemed interested in conversation and by itself, the game was quite dull. Rowan moved on to a round table where men were dicing for coin. Rowan had never been good at dice, even though it was pure luck, but he had played with the boys in Corrinth often enough. Occasionally he would bet his chores against Petar’s. It had been something his brother had started, likely in the hopes that he could hand his own chores to Rowan. It had worked, but as Rowan aged he learned that Petar was cheating him. It was all in good fun, though, and Rowan was happy to sit and watch the gambling.

  Once or twice, Rowan put a coin down and rolled the dice so that he was a part of the action. He remained even, not losing enough to care. What coin he did lose was worth the pleasure of the game. He kept occupied for an hour or two, but after his third drink he was feeling hungry. The inn served, as evident by the many empty and half filled plates covering the tables, but Rowan felt the need to stretch his legs and see more of the city.

  He left the Merry Piper and wandered along the streets, guided by his nose, until he found the shops and carts selling foods. The area was less crowded and he could see that he had moved closer to a residential area. Every so often he would spot children playing or citizens that were leaving the markets to go about their daily business.

  Rowan wandered these streets until he smelled something warm and sweet that set his mouth to watering. He looked around trying to find the source of the smell and spotted a small cart with a sign on the front advertising sweet breads. The cart was run by an elderly woman who noticed Rowan eyeing the food.

  “If you want to try one, you may take a sample,” the woman called to Rowan. “I guarantee you will want more.”

  Unable to resist, Rowan walked over and grabbed a warm stick of bread from the basket. He took a bite and let the taste envelope him. The bread was delicious and Rowan quickly devoured the rest of his small portion, his mouth watering and his stomach wanting more.

  “It’s delicious!” Rowan exclaimed.

  “Thank you for the good words,” the woman replied. “Would you like more?”

  “Yes, please,” Rowan said, pulling out some coins and handing them to her.

  He spent some time talking with her while she worked to grind spices and sweeteners. She told him that her name was Maude and she had travelled to the city for business. Her husband had accompanied her, but was elsewhere in the city, visiting an old friend.

  When told that she was from the East, having come all the way across the border from Lauratrea, Rowan was intrigued.

  “Why, did you not think this tan a bit dark? The people of this country are too pale. The sun, it is much hotter in the East. Everyone there is as least as tanned as myself, if not more so. Such cool weather as this is a welcome change.”

  Rowan ignored the beads of sweat on his neck. “Why would you come all the way here from Lauratrea? I do not know the country nor the distance, but that seems a long journey.”

  “Life is a journey,” Maude replied. “It is not the first time I have left the Summer Lands and I hope that it will not be the last. I am not meant to stay in one place for much time, excepting the homeland. I have family in Lior, true-blood kin. They make it difficult to leave. But our ancestors were nomads, and wandering is in the blood.”

  “I have never been across the border. I am not very well travelled, and it seems I know little of the world.”

  “You would not do well in the Summer Lands. Your pale skin would burn in the northern heat. But listen to me! I sound as though my homeland is in the Red Waste. It is truly not so bad. In the areas where there is water or ice crystals, the land is not so harsh. There is even green in some places, trees even. I am still amazed at how many of those there are in this land.” Maude spoke as though trees were a rarity. And perhaps in Lauratrea they were. But having grown up in the Vale, the valleys filled to brimming with trees, Rowan found it hard to picture a land without them. Even having glimpsed the plains, the endless expanse of flat grass, Rowan knew that somewhere there must be a forest. He did not know what the ice crystals Maude spoke of were, but she seemed to think they were a common thing and he did not want to appear a complete fool.

  She never asked him where he was from or where he was headed, though Rowan sensed it was because she wished to be polite rather than because she was not interested. He mentioned bits of information about himself when prompted, trying in vain to describe to her what it was like to live in the Vale, surrounded by the mountains and hills on all sides, nestled in a valley and living amongst the sea of trees. She listened and tried equally hard to describe to him the Redlands and the great lake of Lior. He tried to explain that he could picture a great lake and that she didn’t need to go on at such length, but she insisted that until he had seen it he could never truly understand the great lake. She called it the lifeblood of her people, saying that it came from the greatest of all the ice crystals, making the lake cold even in the summer months.

  When the sun began to set, Rowan decided it was time to make his way back to the Cloak & Dagger. He bid Maude farewell and she told him that if he ever happened to be in Lauratrea, he should come and find her. She would show him the great lake and welcome him into her home. Rowan promised that he would do so, though he knew he would never find himself in the East. His journey was taking him south to Estoria.

  Rowan spent a long while retracing the route he had taken throughout the day. The streets had grown dark and the crowds had thinned considerably. The city was not empty, but it was no longer active. The sounds of music and laughter drifted out from inns and shops, but the streets were empty and silent. Light from the windows helped to illumine the streets as Rowan walked. It was a long while before Rowan realized that he had been turned around one too many times. It should not have taken him very long to make his way back to the inn, but now he found himself lost and alone. The sun had sunk below the horizon and it was true dark. The moon was out, and in the night, the streets seemed a very different place to Rowan.

>   He thought of returning to ask Maude if she knew where the Cloak & Dagger might be, but he was not confident he could even make his way back to where he had left her and there was no guarantee that she would even still be there. Rowan was used to tracking and finding his way in the forests of the Corrinth. He knew every path and he never got turned around. But the city confused him. Everything looked the same and yet different. When wandering earlier, Rowan had paid too much attention to the people and the stalls. With the streets empty, he was lost.

  Chapter 8

  Realizing that he was lost did not frighten Rowan, but it did annoy him.

  With the sun set it would take a good amount of time to find his way back. It was not how he wished to spend his evening and he hoped he might recognize something soon so that he could make it back before Baird realized what had happened to him. He did not want to be shamed on his first visit to the city.

  Rowan hurried from street to street. He knew that the Cloak & Dagger lay on the eastern edge of the city, so he slowly made his way in that direction. The streets curved and took him in odd directions. He tried to make his way through alleys to travel a straight line, but the darkened areas sometimes ended abruptly, forcing him to turn around and back track. They were also occupied by others, and after his second time stepping on a man he hoped was sleeping, Rowan chose to avoid the alleys and keep to the main streets where there was enough light to see.

  He was not the only one still walking the streets. He occasionally saw pairs of watchmen or some drunken men stumbling back to their beds. Even drunk men could find their way in this city. That more than anything drove Rowan on. That, and a desire to avoid humiliation.

  He eventually came to an open square that he recognized and was able to make his way back to the Cloak and Dagger. When he entered the common room, he found the bar much livelier than it had been earlier. Food smells drifted through the room, scents of meat and mead and wine and bread. Men crowded the tables and stood by the bar. A pretty girl close to his own age danced upon a table while someone strummed a familiar tune and men sang in drunken voices.