The Apprentice (13 page)

Rowan’s
musings were cut off as a young woman with a low cut bodice and a flirtatious
smile brought their food and drink. The food was warm and tasted great after so
many days of eating what little they carried with them. A bite of fresh bread
with sliced cheese made Rowan realize just how hungry he was. He quickly
cleaned his plate and sipped his drink while waiting for Baird to do the same.
As he watched his master eat, he noticed for the first time that Baird ate with
surprising grace. It was not something that stood out, nor did it seem overly
proper, but he spilled almost no crumbs and kept clean as he ate.

It took
Rowan two drinks before Baird finished his meal. When he did, they stood and
left the inn, though Horst did his best to convince them to stay.

“Why
does the innkeeper seem so attracted to you?” Rowan asked. “It seems as though
if we bought our supplies from him we could almost expect them for free.”

“He bows
and scrimps to me in an annoying fashion. The attention may seem helpful, even
desirable, but it is not. He acts as he does because he has some suspicion of
who I am. He does not know me, but he suspects that I am important and he knows
that I carry enough coin to offer him the patronage of ten lesser men. And I
carry a certain influence in this city.”

Baird
would say no more, other than that he wished to be away from the inn and its
owner for a while. He consented that they might buy whatever supplies they
could not find elsewhere from Horst, but he still insisted on looking around
the city first.

“If we
stay in our inn and get our supplies from Horst, we will learn nothing. In a
city, one can learn much by walking among the crowds. Information becomes
readily available. Besides, it is pleasant to get out and enjoy the air and
city.”

Rowan
agreed with that. It felt good to walk the streets and take in the sights and
sounds and smells of the city. Barrinell was much better kept than Attica had
been. There was a sense of order and the city seemed less crowded.

They
walked the streets for a while, talking in the sights and finding the stalls
that offered what they needed. Baird seemed to know where everything in the
city was, but he took his time, wandering around as though he wished to show it
to Rowan. Even so, within a few hours they had gathered most of what they
needed in order to make it to Estoria comfortably. They had purchased plenty of
food and a few other items for their journey.

“I want
you to take all of this back to the inn. You remember where to find it?”

Rowan
nodded reluctantly.

“Why do
I have to carry everything back?”

“Because
I have other business to attend to,” Baird replied. “There is someone that I
wish to meet with while I am in Barrinell. A good friend of mine.”

Rowan
reluctantly agreed. It would not be a pleasant task, but if Baird wished to
attend to his business then Rowan figured it would be best to allow him to do
so. It would give Rowan a chance to go off on his own and see the city for
himself.

He had
made careful note of where their inn was this time. He refused to get lost
again. His first time in a city, it could be excused. Becoming lost again would
show him to be a bumbling country fool who did not belong. So he had done his
best to memorize the layout of the city and path back.

“Feel
free to wander off, but be back at the inn before evening or I will have to
come looking for you.”

With
that, Baird left Rowan to himself. Rowan returned to the Ten Penny Tavern and
deposited their food and supplies in the room. They would pack it all later
that evening, so Rowan just left everything on Baird’s bed.

He felt
tired and would have gladly welcomed a rest had he not been in a city.
Barrinell was a new place just waiting to be explored. Rowan took to the
streets and left the inn behind him.

He
walked around, trying to take in the sights of the city. Everything was of such
a large scale that he was in wonder that it was all shaped by the hands of men.
He noted the differences between this city and Attica. In Attica, everything
had been square and straight, every edge seemed hard. Buildings there were a
mix of wood and stone. The buildings of Barrinell favored stone and clay and were
built with soft, curving edges, only using timber on lesser buildings or for
decoration. And they stood tall, even to someone like Rowan who had grown up in
the Vale surrounded by the ancient trees that stood like towers. When Rowan saw
a three story building in Attica it had shocked him, seeming so large. He knew
that there existed castles and great stone buildings of massive size, but to
see ordinary buildings of three stories was different. Here, a building of
three stories could seem small. There were some that extended at least five
stories, with walkways between them. Rowan pictured himself walking along the
raised stone walkways that bridged some of the buildings and shivered. They
seemed to hang in the air, suspended by nothing and ready to fall as soon as
the wind blew hard enough.

The
markets bustled with activity and the air hummed with the voices of many people
talking at once. Rowan took his time looking around, remembering the lessons he
had learned in Attica. He kept his purse securely hidden and he bought nothing.

However,
he could not help but stop to watch the street performers. He saw one man
breathe fire and another who could make things disappear and reappear with a
wave of his hand. Rowan watched him perform several times without catching the
trick. The performer only chuckled and gave him a last show before leaving to
perform elsewhere. “It is a difficult thing to learn this magic, boy. If it
could be learned by watching only a few times, everyone would know my secrets
and the magic would be lost.”

Rowan
found many things in the city that interested him. The commons of inns were
welcome places and most often had something to entertain him. He listened to
musicians and song-weavers. Storytellers told tales over drinks, speaking of
shadow magic and brave men who fought the darkness. They told of the heroes of
ages past who had forged the nation and forever became a part of history.

He
wandered some more, wishing to see more of the city before the sun could set.
He still had a few hours of light left to him.

At the
center of the city, Rowan found a massive statue built into a raised fountain.
There Rowan took a rest, sitting in the statue’s shadow. It was carved in the
likeness of a man who held a shield at his shoulder to block an unseen blow,
his freehand holding a blade that was ready to make a counterstrike.

Rowan
idly took in the statue and rested. He still felt weary.
Perhaps it would be
best if I returned to the inn and rested
.
It has been quite some time
since I had a long night’s sleep.

Rowan
tried to rouse himself, to rise and return to the inn where there was a bed
waiting for him. But he felt tired and weak and it felt good to sit. He saw no
problem with a short rest before returning, so that was what he did.

*           *           *

Rowan found that evening was upon
him when he opened his eyes. He had not meant to stay for so long, and he had
certainly not meant to sleep. Rowan cursed himself as he rose, feeling for his
purse to make sure it had not been taken from him unawares. He sighed when he discovered
the purse where he left it, seeming to weigh as much as it had before.

The city
center was mostly empty. A few lone people still walked the streets, but the
market square was cleared, save for Rowan. He hurried off, eager to return to
the inn before Baird could notice his absence. Returning late twice would not
give a good impression and Rowan did not want his master to think that he could
not handle himself in a city.

The
evening was still young and the streets were well lit by the glow from the windows
of inns and taverns. The sounds of merriment and drinking and the smell of food
tempted Rowan to stop, but he hurried onwards. It was late and such
pleasantries were more than likely to be found at the Ten Penny Tavern, where
he had a bed to sleep in.

Rowan
made his way through the streets and through a few alleys. He was nearing the
eastern edge of the city when he ran into a pair of guards. The two men were
walking down the street as Rowan came jogging out of an alley, colliding with
one of the men.

“My
apologies,” Rowan said, taking a step back and moving to continue walking. The
second guard, however, blocked his path.

“That
was rude, what you done did. Ye knocked Dom, me mate.”

“I am
sorry. I was a hurry and did not see either of you. Now if you will let me be
on my way—”

“I don’t
see as how your problem needs to be my problem. I don’t care if you’re in a
rush. You done a wrong and hurt my mate, and now ye’ll have to make things
right.”

“Yer
damn right he has to make things right, Arthur.”

“Am I missing
something?” Rowan said, puzzled. His confusion seemed to amuse the soldiers.

“Look,
kid,” the second guard, Arthur, said as he took a step forward. “My purse has
been a little bit light these days. Soldiers don’t get paid a whole lot, you
see. Now, I notice that your own purse seems to be full. I think that you ought
to offer my companion some compensation for the trouble and pain that you
caused him.”

“I
bumped into him on accident. He isn’t hurt.”

“I do
not care. You should have been more careful before you started running the
streets at night. Our streets.”

The
situation suddenly seemed much more threatening to Rowan. He became all too
aware that both guards were larger than he and both wore swords at their hips.
Rowan was unarmed and fatigued, and he was alone.

“I think
I will take my leave now,” Rowan said, taking a step backwards. As he did so,
something struck him in the chest and he fell against a wall.

“Not so
fast, boy. You don’t leave until we’re done with you.”

Rowan
flailed out with his fists and landed a blow.

Arthur
recoiled, holding his jaw. “Dammit. You just struck me.” He stepped forward and
punched Rowan in the gut, causing him to hunch down as he grabbed his stomach
and tried to protect his body.

“Help—”

Rowan
tried to call out but he was cut short by a blow to the head.

“Don’t
go making a ruckus, boy,” Arthur said as he grabbed Rowan and shoved him to the
ground. The big guard, Dom, kicked Rowan several times, forcing him to curl
into a ball to protect himself.

“Now,”
Arthur said, looking down at Rowan, “you are going to hand over your purse and
be on your way.”

Cornered
and beaten, Rowan lay helpless on the ground. He raged inside and wished he had
a sword of his own so that he could fight. His anger seemed to show, as both
guards placed their hands on the hilts of their swords. Rowan pulled out his
purse and reluctantly handed it over. The guards were about to leave when both
suddenly stopped. It became apparent why when a familiar deep, booming voice
shouted Rowan’s name.

“What is
going on here?” Baird demanded as he approached.

Both
soldiers turned to face the knight, gripping their swords a bit tighter once
they saw him. Baird easily topped them by a full head and he struck an imposing
figure. The smaller of the two soldiers, Arthur, stepped forward and
straightened his back.

“This
doesn’t concern you,
citizen
,” Arthur said. “Why don’t mind your own
business and move along before you get yourself into trouble.”

“This
is
my business,” Baird said emphatically. “You are harassing this boy, and he is
my charge. So whatever is going on here is most certainly my business.”

The
soldier tried to interrupt but Baird silenced him.

“I
strongly suggest that the two of you leave, immediately.”

By this
point, Rowan had gotten up and was rubbing the places where he had been struck.
He felt that things were becoming too tense and he did not want to cause any
more trouble. So he chose that moment to finally speak up.

“Baird,
why don’t we just leave,” he suggested. Rowan tried to pull the big man away
but Baird did not budge, he just pushed Rowan off to the side and continued to
stand, crossing his arms as if he were waiting for something.

Several
moments later Rowan heard the sound of footsteps drawing near, the clangor of
metal on metal indicating that they were more soldiers.

Rowan
instantly feared the worst and began trying to pull Baird away, assuming that
the soldiers would either back up the two there or try to break up the dispute,
which would not go over well with Baird. But Baird did not seem at all
troubled. If anything, he seemed more relaxed.

Rowan
and Baird turned to face the newcomers. Out of the corner of his eye, Rowan saw
the two soldiers, Arthur and Dom, stiffen.

There
were several of the newcomers. One man, whom Rowan had not noticed because he
had been slower to arrive and was consequently standing behind the others,
stepped forward. He was of an average height and build, perhaps slightly on the
heavy side, and he had a deep scar that ran across his left cheek. From the way
he was dressed—wearing finer armor, and less of it than any other man—and the
reaction caused by his presence, it was clear that he was an officer.