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Authors: Alexander C. Hoffman

BOOK: The Apprentice
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Chapter 41
                     
 

The night was deep, but the
darkness suited Gannon. He was a dark man, a man of the shadows, and tonight
would bring him one step closer to power.

“Step
quickly,” he hissed at the two soldiers shadowing him. Gannon was a cautious
man by nature and preferred to keep a guard at all times. They had their uses,
even if they were all incompetent. The whole damned lot of them. Perhaps he
should punish them. Fear would do the men some good. It would remind them of
his authority. Of his power.

The two
soldiers wordlessly quickened their pace to match his own. They knew that
speaking would bring a punishment upon them.

Gannon
turned his attention away from the two who accompanied him and focused instead
on the issues that had presented themselves and needed to be resolved. The
knight Baird was still suspicious of him and would have to be dealt with,
though the fool had perhaps saved his apprentice by keeping the boy from
meeting with the young princess. She was crucial and could be subject to no
influence but his own, for she would be the means by which Gannon could seize
power. But only after Baird was dealt with. Perhaps Evans would have news for
him regarding that problem.

Gannon
made his way through the darkened halls of the castle. He was in one of the
oldest sections of the building, deep underground and long since abandoned to
the rats and vermin that infested such places. It rankled him to come here, but
this was a place that would escape the notice of the many spies and watchers
throughout the castle. Gannon could not have his words overheard.

It was
damp and dusty and though the walls were lined with sconces, the torches that
had once lit these halls had been burned away many years ago. The only light
came from the torch borne by the young soldier to his left. A new addition to
his troop, one that was eager to please.

He
continued to walk the corridors in a winding path that would have confused any
who were not familiar with the layout of these halls. He was going to be late.
He quickened his stride, the soldiers once again hurrying to keep up.

He knew
that Evans would be waiting for him. The lord was a man of punctuality, and a
man of secrets. His ambition had led him to work with Gannon, and he was
perhaps the only man who knew the entirety of Gannon’s plans for the future of Atlea.
Gannon did not trust him. Greed and ambition were powerful motivators, but
Gannon knew that ultimately the only man who could be relied on was himself.
Which is why he planned on taking control.

Gannon
turned a corner and strode through a pair of double doors that had a hint of
light shining through. The younger of the two guards thought to follow Gannon
inside but his elder companion held him back. What was said and done in this
room was not for the ears of soldiers.

“You are
late. I find your lack of punctuality quite insulting.”

Lord
Evans stood across the room, staring at Gannon with a look of annoyance. The
man was dressed in robes of velvet and fine silks that displayed his wealth and
marked him as a lord. The smell of perfume hung heavy in the air, but Gannon
ignored it. He had long since learned to accept the frivolities of the wealthy.

“You
need not concern yourself with my comings and goings. Now tell me, what news
have you? Last I spoke with one of your spies, I was informed that Baird has increased
the guard on the princess and the king. That was not what I wanted to hear.”

“Ah,
straight to business. Very well. Though you ought to try and observe simple
pleasantries every once in a while. You will find that they make you more
socially approachable, and one can never have too many friends.”

Gannon
made a sound resembling a growl deep in his throat. Lord Evans was a valued
ally, but Gannon would only tolerate so much. No one was indispensable. No one.

“It is
true, unfortunately, that Baird has increased the royal guard,” Lord Evans
continued. “The princess is watched at all times, though the knight rarely sees
to her protection personally anymore. Ultimately, however, the princess’ guard
is not relevant. When the time comes, it serves our purposes better if she is
well protected.”

“That is
true,” Gannon agreed. The princess was valuable to him alive. He had use for
her and her status as the future queen. She was a petulant child and too young
to ascend the throne, but she could make a perfect puppet through which to act.

“The
true matter that we shall concern ourselves with is the king’s guard. They are
well trained and they shadow him at all times, and Baird still keeps company
with the king often enough to be troublesome. They meet secretly now and again,
and I suspect that Baird has been struggling to convince the king of his
suspicions.”

“You
suspect
that is what they talk about?” Gannon asked, an edge to his voice.

“Yes. I
suspect, I do not know. This castle is filled with my eyes and ears, but even I
am not all knowing. Baird is a very careful man, very cautious, especially
given the nature of his suspicions. And Baird
is
suspicious. He teeters
on the edge of knowledge, aware that something serious is amiss but lacking the
proof to substantiate his claims. His attention has been waning recently, but
his existence is a threat. He will not be kept in the dark forever. Something
must be done.”

“And you
think that I do not know this!” Gannon spat. “Or perhaps you think that I am
simply
afraid
to act. Speak!”

Rage
coursed through him, making his blood burn hot. His anger consumed him and for
a moment he became a different person entirely, changing from the cold,
calculating man that he was. His blood boiled and his vision went red as the
fury took him.

“I meant
no such thing, Grace.” Lord Evans’ voice was silky and layered with flattery.
The man spoke calmly, but the beads of sweat gathering at the nape of his neck
betrayed him. That small detail snapped Gannon from his maddened state and
brought him back in control. He was feared, and rightfully so. It was good to
be feared.

“We will
act soon,” Gannon said.

Chapter 42
                     
 

Before knowing her, Rowan never
would have thought that he would miss Eliza’s presence. He had tolerated her
presence when she came with Baird to visit him because it was expected. She had
been grudging and intrusive and antagonistic, he had been stubborn. But then
they had become friends. Now Rowan felt something missing.

Weeks
passed as he waited, hoping to see Eliza again. The princess had always had
free reign of the castle before, and Rowan hoped that she might come to see him
or visit the training fields. Even with an escort, even if they couldn’t be
alone, it would be welcome. She did not. Not once did Eliza see Rowan. He
didn’t know whether it was because she could not come or she would not come.

At
first, he tried to convince himself that she was just avoiding him. It was
safer that way anyway. But he knew her too well.

Eventually
Rowan tried to seek out the company of the princess, but she had become very
busy. It was rumored that her father had begun considering her marriage
options. If she were to wed one of the many princes of Lauratrea, the two
countries would become connected, furthering King Alden’s plans for peace.
There was even talk of arranging visits to meet and entertain several suitors.

Even
though such talk was only court gossip, Rowan couldn’t dismiss it. He himself
had no claim on Eliza, but the thought of an arranged marriage upset him no
matter what he pretended to feel.

All
seemed very depressing and lonesome for Rowan while the kingdom began to grow
bright and optimistic in anticipation of a future that was stable, peaceful,
and secure. The princess had only to marry and establish a new ruler to follow
the example set by her father. Even Baird began to seem less strained, as
though whatever had been worrying him was no longer a problem.

When it
became clear that he would not be able to see Eliza, Rowan became detached and
focused on distracting himself, turning his attentions elsewhere. When he
finally decided that he wanted company, he sought out Erik.

Erik had
noticed the change that had come over him, but like Baird, he said nothing. The
two had become like brothers. They worked and sparred together and they
understood each other well.

“What
will you do once it is time for your graduation?” Erik asked one evening. It
was well known that the older group of boys would face their trials soon and be
formally graduated, some earning ranks and the rest becoming soldiers. All who graduated
would be joining various troops where there were openings, though none knew
where they would be assigned. They could be sent anywhere, to a place for them
to begin anew as men. There were a few exceptions, such as Byron, who had
already been placed under a commander. Those few who had been given early
assignments remained in the barracks until they were formally graduated, but
they knew where they were going. It was expected that Darius would be speaking
to them that evening on the subject.

“I don’t
know,” Rowan said. His was the only future that was uncertain. He expected that
he would eventually be returned to Baird to fulfill his duties as an
apprentice. Continued training alongside the younger boys would not serve him
well. It would be a waste of his time. “I have thought about it often enough,
but I have no answers or visions of the future. I am Baird’s apprentice and he
trains me specially, but I know little about what he actually does. He is a
master swordsman, but that is only a skill. I have never shadowed him, so I
don't know. Perhaps that is what is to come.”

“What
does
he teach you? It can’t be just swordplay,” Erik teased.

“No. I
learn other things from him as well. But it’s always little details that he
gives, observations that I make. I learn a lot, but at the same time I never
fully understand anything and he never directly tells me how his lessons are
relevant. I ask. He answers. If information is useful, he will tell me. But
there is much that he does not think that I am ready to bear.”

“That
doesn’t sound very helpful.”

Rowan
shrugged. “It is what it is. Baird is always saying that the most important
aspect of his job is something that cannot be taught.”

“What is
it?”

“He says
it is one’s spirit and their resolve. I disagree, but what can I do.”

Erik
grunted in agreement.

“What
will you do?” Rowan asked.

“I’m
fairly certain that I will be kept here in the capitol. I have some relations
in the city and Darius seems to think that I will do well here.”

“That’s
fortunate. It’d be a shame if you get assigned to some far-away post and we had
to part ways. I would need a new sparring partner.”

“Is that
all I am good for? Being a sparring buddy for you to beat and bruise?”

“I
thought you already knew that.”

Erik
punched Rowan to get back at him for the jest.

Later
they were called in with many of the other older boys and Darius spoke to them
about the plans that were being made to organize their graduation ceremony.
Rowan absently listened to the speech without taking very much in. It didn’t concern
him, so he did not need to care. They would be reminded about anything
important later anyway.

He later
asked Baird about what would become of him. Baird told him that he could soon
begin to shadow him, observing and helping as necessary. But Baird would not
say when.

Rowan
resigned himself to waiting for the time when his situation would change.

Chapter 43
                     
 

Rowan rolled over in his bed,
uncomfortable and awake. From the quiet sounds of snoring, he could tell that
the other boys were asleep. It was late and the barracks were dark, the light
from the moon hidden.

He
closed his eyes and began counting his breaths, emptying his mind and trying to
force himself to relax. But sleep evaded him.

He did
not know what kept him up. His day had been ordinary and he had worked hard,
exhausting himself. He had not met with Baird, but even still he had trained
throughout the day. He ought to be exhausted. He felt exhausted.

When he
knew that sleep would not return, Rowan tossed his sheets aside and rose from
his bed. Perhaps a nighttime walk would calm his mind and allow him to rest
easier.

As he
stood, his foot brushed against Tenro. He always kept it close. Rowan cursed as
his motion toppled the blade and he hurriedly bent to catch it before it could
fall to the ground and wake someone. He looked around to check that none of the
other boys had stirred, and was satisfied that he had not woken anyone.

Blade in
hand, Rowan thought about taking Tenro with him but quickly decided against it.
He would have no need of his weapon and it would only mean more trouble if he
was caught breaking curfew with it. Darius would take it away.

Always
keep your weapon. You will need it most when you do not have it.
Baird’s words came to mind unbidden.
The thought gave Rowan pause, but he ignored it, leaving the blade beneath his
bunk so no one would step on it in the dark. It would be safe there.

Rowan
pulled a tunic over his head, wrapped himself in his cloak to protect against
the autumn chill, and snuck outside. The night air was calm and crisp and
perfectly still. A thick fog hung in the air, dampening everything and making
Rowan shiver and pull his cloak more tightly around him, though it only helped
a little.

He took
a moment to relieve himself before walking out into the mists. He absently wondered
what it would be like to live during the night. It would certainly be colder.
Yet the night was peaceful. In the darkness, it was easy to forget about the
rest of the world and just exist.

Rowan
walked without paying attention to where his feet took him and found himself
leaving the training grounds and walking towards the castle. The whole hill was
surrounded by a wall, but there were areas where one could sneak inside. The
light from the watch fires were hazy in the fog. He looked for the shadowy shapes
of the guards walking the walls, patrolling the keep and watching for
intruders. It would be best to avoid them.

He
crossed into the castle grounds using a very old tunnel that was hidden by
overgrown brush. Anyone who stumbled across it would probably say that tunnel
was the wrong word to describe the hole in the ground. It was little more than
a crawlspace, so the brush that hid it was small enough to escape close
scrutiny. Rowan did not know if the tunnel was natural or if someone had dug it
purposefully, but it was useful.

It was
amazing how deserted the grounds were. It was as if the darkness had swallowed
all of the people and guards who would normally roam the area. The fog was
thick and oppressive, making it difficult to see anything more than a good
stone throw away. It shrank the world.

Scanning
the grounds, Rowan could see the bobbing light of torches, but their height
told him that they were carried by soldiers on the wall. There were none across
the grounds.

Rowan
thought it strange, but he was grateful for the ease with which he could walk
the grounds. With the usual guards absent, Rowan could simply walk without
worrying about being spotted. It was a dark night and the mist would only make
it harder for anyone to spot him.

He
walked in the direction of the castle gardens. It was beautiful, full of
wondrous plants and places to wander and be alone. It was not a place that he
often had the opportunity to visit.

As
befitting the late hour, the gardens were empty. In the darkness, there was
little to see. Rowan carried no torch or lantern with him, for any light would
betray him to the guards. Yet he could make out shapes, and he was able to
enjoy the smells that hung in the air. Occasionally as he walked, he would
close his eyes, reach out his hand, and brush the nearby plants with his
fingertips, trying to identify them by touch. He was a poor guesser, having
little knowledge of the exotic plants found in the royal gardens, but he knew a
few of them.

He
walked for a time. The gardens were built with many paths and a number of small
areas where one could sit and rest undisturbed. The area was at once completely
open and totally isolated. He guessed that it was meant to offer a sense of
tranquility. It was a place for wandering and pondering.

He enjoyed
the silence for a while, just allowing himself to relax. Then he heard the
voices.

Rowan
froze. He had not thought anyone else would be awake at such a late hour. The
voices grew louder and Rowan realized that whoever was speaking was walking
towards him. He looked around, realized that he had no time to escape
unnoticed, and quickly dove into a small sitting area surrounded by well
trimmed bushes, hoping that he was hidden.

“Everything
is in place. Baird has been dealt with and my men have their orders to keep
away from the castle. Those that I trust are in place, but I have instructed
them not to act. I will be the one to do it.”

Rowan
recognized the voice. It was Gannon. The memory of the last time that he had
overheard one of Gannon’s conversations came flooding back. Suddenly it was
making sense to Rowan. The person that Gannon had been talking about last time,
the man who had been watched, was Baird.

“So
tonight we will finally act? You plan to see this through?”

“Yes.”

“And
what of the boy? He could prove useful if we could control him.”

“He is
troublesome, but I he poses no immediate threat. He is in the barracks, guarded
by Darius. I ordered my newest recruit to keep watch over him. Afterwards, when
this is all over, he may need to be killed. He has grown close to the princess
and I simply do not like him. He is Baird’s legacy, his successor.”

They
are talking about me
,
Rowan realized. And then,
I wonder who he had watching me. Whoever it was
did a poor job. I had no trouble leaving and navigating the grounds unnoticed.

He stole
a glance to see who Gannon was speaking with and he recognized the man from the
feast that had been thrown when he first arrived in the capitol. Lord Evans,
Rowan recalled.

“What of
the royal honor guard? And the troops who are either not under your command or
who are loyal?”

“The
honor guard will soon be dealt with. Their deaths will look like a struggle,
and if some of my men die, then it will only serve to throw suspicion off of
me, for my men were obviously fighting to save our glorious king.”

Rowan
felt a sinking in the pit of his stomach. He was not fully aware of what was
happening, but he had heard enough to know that it was something very bad. He
needed to get help, to find Baird and raise some kind of alarm. He just had to
wait for the right moment, when he could escape unnoticed. Gannon and the lord
ought to pass a safe distance away soon.

He could
hear the footsteps passing him by. They had not noticed him.

And it
was in that moment that Rowan felt a hand grab him from behind, jerking him
forward and out into the open.

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