The Apprentice (21 page)

“I felt
as though the time was right, and then I found Rowan.”

“Bah.
That is no answer,” Jared said. He stared at Rowan. “It is obvious that you are
no lordling—you hold yourself differently and you have none of their arrogance.
Yet you don’t look very much like the soldier type, boy. Can you even handle a
sword?”

“Of
course I can use a sword,” Rowan said.

“Is that
so?” Jared moved forward and looked Rowan up and down, inspecting his body. “It
would appear that you have begun training, as your master said. But have you
ever used a real blade before? Do you know what it means to wield something so
fine that it could be an extension of your very body?”

Rowan
hesitated. “No,” he admitted, ashamed. “I have never fought with an actual
sword.”

“You
have never fought before at all, with or without a blade. I do not fault you
for that, for we are living in an era of peace where a man is not made, or
unmade, by the blade and his skill with it.” Jared turned to Baird. “You expect
me to make this boy a blade? Do you have any idea how much time and energy it
takes to forge a custom weapon?”

“Yes, I
do. And as my apprentice, Rowan will require such a blade. Since you are the
best sword smith in the country, I came to you with my request.”

“No. I
don’t have the time to waste making a sword for some boy who has not even used
a blade before. I am sorry, Baird, but you will have to find someone else to
forge him a weapon.”

Jared
turned to walk away, but Baird stopped him.

“Do this
for me.”

“I said
no, Baird.” Jared pushed past Baird and walked back outside to the forge.

“You owe
me, Jared,” Baird called after him, standing and moving to follow. Rowan could
tell his master was frustrated. “If you forge me a blade then I will consider
your debt paid.”

Rowan
and Baird waited outside the back of the forge but there was no response from
inside.

“Let’s
leave, master. It was a kind gesture, but I don’t want to be the cause of
trouble between you and your friend.”

Rowan
was sincere in his gesture, but his spirits were crushed. A blade was something
that could mark him as Baird’s apprentice. It was a symbol that would define
him, and although he could get one elsewhere, it would have been nice to have
it forged by the same man who had created Baird’s sword, Sidia.

“You are
right,” Baird replied, crushing Rowan’s spirits with a response that was
expected. “Jared is a good friend but he is stubborn. I should have requested
the blade on my own to avoid getting your hopes up.”

Rowan
did not say anything as they made their way back out to the street. They turned
and walked away, leaving the forge behind them.

Neither
one said anything as they walked back towards the castle. The sun had risen
above the horizon and the streets were now crowded with people. Rowan saw
another pair of boys fighting each other with pretend swords, perhaps the same
ones as before.

They
were walking up to the castle gates when someone called out to them. Baird
ignored the call but Rowan turned around. A blackened form was jogging towards
them.

“Baird,”
Rowan said, gaining his master’s attention. Baird turned around and stopped,
allowing the figure to catch up. It was not Jared, as Rowan had thought it
might be when he first saw the blackened figure.

“Master
Jared asked me to find you,” the boy said, panting. He took a moment to catch
his breath and then continued. “He says that he considers his debt to be paid
in full. He also requests that you return tomorrow.”

Baird
smiled. “We will do so. Tell my friend that he has my thanks.”

Chapter 16
                     
 

When they made their return trip to
the forge, Rowan was hard pressed to stay calm. The prospect of receiving his
own blade was exciting, though Baird had warned him that Jared would not have a
blade ready and waiting for him.

Rowan
accepted that news with only minor disappointment. He was consumed by the
thought of his own sword. It would be something to truly mark him as apprentice
to a great knight, and it would be entirely his.

Rowan
and Baird arrived early to a scene similar to the previous day. The forge was
hot and alive with activity as the apprentices went about their work. Hammers
sounded in a discordant rhythm and heat emanated from the fires of the
workplace. Even standing outside, Rowan could feel the heat from within, the
warmth washing over him.

One boy,
tall and strong, swung a large hammer to strike a piece of metal being held
over an anvil. The man holding the tongs reached out, tapped the metal with a
smaller hammer, and the apprentice swung again to strike the indicated spot.
Rowan watched as they worked.

Soon he
would have a blade just like that one.

Jared
did not come out to greet them immediately, but he did not make them wait long.
The smith finished his work and passed it to another, coming to meet them
outside.

“Baird
and Rowan! Greetings,” Jared said, acknowledging them as though their visit was
unexpected yet welcome. It was a very different greeting from the previous day,
when the smith had been distracted and terse. “It is good to see the two of you
again.”

“Hello.”

Baird
nodded to his friend and Rowan gave a slight bow.

“Baird,
you will owe me for this,” Jared said seriously. “There is much to do and I am
quite busy. I have a number of lords who have requested blades from me, and all
of them want their weapons to be elegant and artistic. They want weapons to
display, and those require a lot of work. I actually have to pay attention to
those blades because certain expectations must be met, and lords are very
particular.”

Baird
said nothing, but Jared did not seem to expect any kind of response. He
continued talking, though this time he was focused on Rowan.

“The
reason I had you return is to find out what kind of blade I need to make for
you, Rowan. It is not so difficult to make a sword, most of my apprentices
could do so without my assistance, but if a blade is not made for a purpose
then it will never be utilized.”

Rowan
nodded. The smith’s words made little sense to him but he was not going to
argue. The man was going to make him a sword.

Jared
took a step forward and grabbed Rowan’s wrist, pulling his arm forward and
brushing the sleeve back.

“What—,”
Rowan tried to pull away but the smith had a strong grip and held him tightly.

“Calm
down, boy. I’m just examining your arm.” Jared pulled at Rowan’s wrist, angling
his arm this way and that, studying it intently. “You have a good amount of
muscle in your arm and in your wrist.” He turned to Baird. “You said you have
been training him to use a sword, correct?”

“Of
course.”

“Good.
That will make things somewhat easier.” Jared released Rowan’s arm. “I still
wish the boy could have some experience using an actual sword so that he would
know the weight, but I’ll just have to deal with what we have.”

“Will it
make much difference whether or not I know how much a true sword weighs?” Rowan
asked.

Jared
spun around. “Of course it does! If you don’t know how much a sword weighs then
you can’t tell me what feels right. I won’t know how heavy or light, how big or
small, how long or short to make the sword. But the fact that you’ve at least
practiced the art of swordsmanship will help me know what kind of blade to
forge. Follow me.”

Jared
led Rowan through his shop and into the open area out back. Baird followed.

As they
passed through the workshop, Rowan felt the incredible heat of the forge and he
was glad that he did not have to remain there. It was a wonder that anyone
could stand to work in such heat while wearing the sturdy apron and heavy
layers required when working with hot metals.

The
smith retrieved two wooden blades from a rack. One was tossed to Rowan, who was
not ready and almost failed to catch it. The other was given to Baird.

“I want
to see how you fight. Baird, allow Rowan to lead so that I can better observe
his style.”

Baird
nodded but Rowan remained unsure of what exactly he was supposed to do.

“You
just want me to spar with Baird?” Rowan asked.

“Yes.
Don’t do anything fancy that you wouldn’t normally do. I am not watching to
judge your skill, I just want to get a sense of your style of combat. Do not
show off.”

“Alright,”
Rowan replied.

Though
there was no reason for it, he felt slightly nervous about being watched. It
was an added pressure he found difficult to ignore.

Rowan
held his weapon out in front of him, testing its weight. For the duration of
his journey with Baird, they had sparred with wooden sticks that were light and
straight. After arriving in Estoria, they had switched to wooden practice
blades similar to the one he held now. But the wooden sword felt strange in his
hands, different from the ones they had sparred with at the castle. This one
was thinner and not as wide, but somehow it was heavier.

Rowan
shifted his grip slightly and took a practice swing. Despite the weight, it
felt better to hold.

“It
feels heavy for a wooden sword. Good, but heavy.”

Baird’s
mouth tugged up in a grin. He seemed pleased that Rowan had spoken.

“The
sword is only wooden on the outside,” Jared said. “The core is weighted with
metal so that it has a more realistic weight and feel to it. It is good that
you noticed. Had you not been able to identify such a simple thing, I would
have regretted my promise of making you a blade.”

Looking
closer, Rowan could see a circular seam on the bottom of the hilt where the
wood had been hollowed to allow for the weight to be inserted.

“Attack
when you are ready, Rowan.” Baird stood on guard, waiting patiently for Rowan
to initiate.

Gripping
the blade tightly, Rowan lunged towards Baird.

The
space available to them was small. Though he had no intention of retreating, it
felt odd to attack knowing that he would not be able to give ground. He knew
that fighting against Baird would be more difficult when forced into close
quarters, though Baird’s extended reach would make him slightly slower.

Rowan
hoped that would be enough to allow for a somewhat even fight. He did not wish
this to earn him extra bruises.

He
closed the distance between him and his master in a single lunge. He was
pleased that the weighted sword did not slow him down very much. It was heavy
but his arms were strong and had grown used to holding a makeshift blade.

His
master easily parried the blow but Rowan struck again before Baird could
attack. He could almost match his master for speed, and with a shorter reach in
close quarters, he was able to act quickly.

Baird
parried several blows and responded with his own attacks. The pair went on trading
blows, landing several but not stopping.

All
thought of being observed left Rowan as he fought. It was not quite the same as
when he sparred with his master, for Baird was not attacking as he usually did.
He held his strength in check, though he moved as quickly as ever.

Rowan
was focused on nothing but the dance of blades as he moved and responded.

Their
bout did not last and only a few blows were landed, but it was enough to cause
Rowan to break out into a light sweat. Concentrating as he was, it seemed like
only moments had passed before Jared halted them. When he did, Rowan was still
breathing evenly.

“That’s
good enough. I have seen what I need to see.”

“Good,”
Baird said. He tossed his stick to Jared, who caught it deftly.

Rowan
chose to walk over and hand his weapon to the smith, who took both instruments
and returned them to their proper places.

“It was
never truly an option, but I wanted to make sure that you would need a true
blade like Sidia, a traditional blade rather than something small like a rapier
or heavy like a great sword or a claymore.”

“You
considered a claymore?” Baird seemed ready to laugh at the idea. “Jared, you
are a master sword smith yet you speak as though you are a novice.”

“Not all
great swords are the same,” the smith said defensively. “When I make a blade,
it is made specific to the man who will wield it. It is how I distinguish my
work. If he had fought as you do, using power and strength and little else, I
would have forged a great sword to fit him.”

As he
spoke, the smith paced back and forth. Occasionally he would stop and stare at
nothing, scratching his beard as he did so, though he did not seem to notice
the motion.

“The
blade-work clearly shows your master’s teachings.” The smith began thinking
aloud. “The style is different from the master’s. Fluid and quick, with less
power behind the blows. His size must be taken into account as well. Maybe…no,
that would not fit quite right. Perhaps a one-handed sword?”

Rowan
watched Jared pace, muttering to himself as though he was entirely oblivious to
the presence of either Rowan or Baird. After a short while, Jared stopped
pacing and went inside. He returned with several swords, which he lay on a
table.

“Try
this.”

Rowan
took the sword offered to him. It was short, but its weight surprised him. He
held it tightly and examined it. The grip would only allow for one hand.

“May I
try swinging it?”

“Of
course. Why else would I have given it to you?” Jared replied.

Rowan
lifted the sword and swung it, using his left arm as a counter weight. He tried
a few moves but stumbled when, on instinct, he tried to perform a two-handed
blow. He nearly dropped the blade, but his grip was strong.

“No,”
Jared said. “That clearly isn’t the kind of sword you need.”

He took
the weapon from Rowan and handed him another. Rowan accepted it, another
single-handed sword, and tried swinging it. It was fine until he tried to
perform a two-handed swing. The smith took the weapon and gave him another of
the same type. It quickly became clear that Rowan was not suited to a
single-handed weapon, although the smith made him try each sword that had been
brought out.

“You are
clearly not suited to a single-handed blade. Unless, perhaps, you would like to
try a dual sword?”

Baird
was quick to respond.

“No. He
will not use two blades. It is a waste of time to master dual blades and I will
not have my apprentice using them.”

“Why
not?” Rowan asked. He thought that two blades would be great. Dashing and
flashy.

“It
takes more time than it is worth to learn to use them properly. And used
improperly, they leave the wielder vulnerable.”

Rowan
trusted his master but found the idea of dual wielding very appealing. Still,
he did not press the matter. He watched as Jared took the weapons back inside
and brought out several more.

This
time there were several different types.

“You
know him better than I do, Baird,” Jared said as he lay out the swords on a
work bench. “Tell me what you think. Should I try something larger that is
meant to be used only with two hands or would it be better to stick with a long
sword such as yours?”

“I think
Rowan is more suited to a long sword,” Baird said. “Though Sidia is a poor
example of what he needs. My sword is too large for him, suited for someone who
favors strength over speed.”

“Yes,
you are probably right. The broad sword would supplement his strength, but it
would be too heavy to wield with any sort of agility. Besides, I don’t know
that the size would be right for him. But let us try, just to be safe.”

Jared
hefted one of the larger swords and let Rowan take it from him. It was not too
long, only about the length of Sidia, but the weight required Rowan to use both
hands to hold it.

Before
Rowan could even swing it, Jared grabbed it back, saying that it was not going
to work. He handed Rowan one that was slightly thinner, less bulky. The hilt
was long enough that he could grip it with two hands, but the weight did not
require it. The pommel was shaped in the head of an animal.

“This
looks about right. You will definitely need a long sword.”

Rowan
nodded in agreement. Out of all the swords he had tried so far, this one felt
the most right. It was long and it was heavy, but with effort he was able to
hold it in one hand. As he practiced swinging it around, he found that he was
able to move more naturally than before, though the weight and the length took
some getting used to.