The Apprentice (9 page)

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.

Now that
he was back, Rowan was in no hurry to return to his room. The common room was
alive and he could feel the warmth and the excitement infecting him. He stepped
out of the doorway and watched as the girl continued to dance, her fiery curls
bouncing and her gown twirling around her. He took up the words of the song,
stumbling on some of the lyrics but enjoying himself anyways.

When the
song ended, there was applause and cries for more. The girl smiled and waited
until a few coins were thrown her way, which she snatched out of the air rather
deftly and tucked into her bodice, giving a few to the musician, who quickly
began another tune.

“Are you
enjoying yourself?”

Rowan
spun about, finding Baird standing just behind him and to the left. He had not
seen the big man when he entered, nor had he noticed him approaching. How could
a man of such size move through a crowded room without being noticed?

“The
music is pleasant.”

“Aye,
that she is.”

Rowan
frowned and wondered if he had been misheard, but the way that Baird’s mouth
tugged upwards at the edge suggested the man had heard him clearly. Across the
room there was some small commotion as a man tried to use the cover of the
crowd to have a squeeze. The girl kicked his hand aside and stepped directly on
his fingers without missing a beat. The man yelped and quickly shoved his way
to the back of the room to nurse his hand and avoid further shame.

“You
were out late. I have been down here waiting for you for several hours. Enough
time that when I first sat down, there was no music and the girl—well, she was
entertaining men but she had not yet started to dance.”

“You
didn’t need to wait for me. I was out exploring the city.”

“It has
been dark for almost an hour.”

“This is
a city. There are sights that can be seen as the sun sets and after.”

“There
are.” A look crossed Baird’s face. “You didn’t—you weren’t being
entertained
?”

Rowan
stared at him blankly, unsure of what Baird meant. The man nodded towards the
girl dancing on the table and Rowan suddenly grasped his meaning.

“No!”
Perhaps he spoke too forcefully, for several men turned towards them to see why
he had yelled. “No,” he repeated, loud enough to be heard over the din but not
yelling.

He felt
himself redden at the thought and tried to stop.

“If you
were not out for pleasure, what was it that kept you so late?”

“Must
there be a reason?”

“No. But
I
am
curious. I fully expected you to find yourself lost and wandering
about the streets searching for our inn. There is little to do on the streets
after the sun has set.”

“And you
waited for me here rather than searching me out?”

“Yes. I
trust that you can handle yourself.”

Rowan
turned his attention back to the room. He was still hungry and the food smelled
good. After his experiences earlier in the day, he had not come to expect much
from the inn. His coin purse was still mostly full and with it he bought
himself a hot meal, which he took to a table on the edge of the room. Baird
joined him with two mugs, one filled with sweet wine and the other with beer.
He pushed the sweet wine towards Rowan.

“You did
not seem to like the drink earlier today. Perhaps sweet wine will be more to
your taste. It is sweet and has less bite to it, but it should have you
grinning like a fool by the time you reach the bottom of the cup.”

Rowan
accepted the drink and took a sip to wash down some of the meat. The liquid was
smooth and sweet. It still had a hint of the taste of alcohol, but Rowan liked
the flavor. He took another gulp and returned to his food. He finished his
drink well before he finished his meal, and he found that his head was
beginning to swim and he couldn’t help but grin as he watched the fiery girl
dance.

*           *           *

Rowan awoke late the next day with
a stiff back and a sore body. The light shining through the window told him
that the sun was up, and he found that the brightness of the room hurt his eyes
and his head swam.

Yawning,
Rowan began the process of waking himself. First he rubbed his eyes, which were
only half open, and then he sat up and stretched. His body still bore some
bruises from his training sessions with Baird and the stretches helped him to
loosen his stiff muscles. Sleeping on the floor had not helped his aches.

As he
got up, Rowan wished he had taken the time to make a more comfy bed. He looked
down at the simple pile of sheets that he had slept on last night. He hadn’t
even spread them out to resemble a bed; he had simply tossed whatever was at
hand into a large pile.

Rowan
went through the first three stages of the sword dance. He was going through
the motions of the fourth stage when his body protested and he faltered, losing
his balance and falling over. He cursed and tried again, faring little better
the second time. Feeling limber and awake, Rowan decided to skip the rest of
the dance in favor of breakfast.

He
quickly shed the previous day’s clothes and put on his last remaining set
before leaving the room. A fine aroma hung in the air. As he made his way down
the stairs, he saw that a warm breakfast of eggs, milk, bread, and cheese had
been served. A large woman with an apron, Ma’ Primm, was weaving among the
morning customers and tables to deliver more food and drink to those who needed
it.

Baird
sat alone in the darkest corner of the room, a half-eaten plate of food in front
of him along with a mug that he occasionally sipped from. Upon seeing Rowan
come down, Baird signaled that he should come and join him at the table,
raising his voice and calling him over.

“I trust
that you are feeling well this morning? You have certainly slept long enough.”

“Why
would I not be well?” Rowan tried to recall anything amiss from the night
before but the later part of the evening was a bit blurry.

“You
took a liking to your sweet wine last night. Bought yourself a second mug.”
Rowan remembered that much, but little more. He had been tired. “After that,
you thought you might try to have a third. You drank most of it and spilled the
rest. To your credit, you did not lose your stomach until after you wooed your
flaming mistress.”

“What?”
Rowan’s curses brought a grin to Baird’s face.

“I am
only joking, of course. You did earn yourself a kiss, but soon after, you lost
your dignity by throwing up. You made it outside before you did, but you were
done for the night after that. Took yourself upstairs and slept. Didn’t even
argue for the bed.”

Rowan
glared at Baird from across the table. “I did no such thing. I would remember
if I had. I have drunk before and never lost my head.”

“It
wasn’t your head that you lost. But that’s over and done with. It was a poor
choice, allowing you to drink and attract such attention, but it is well that
you are not hung over. I do plan to leave today, and we will be travelling by
horseback.”

Rowan
kept silent. He felt that he should mention that he had no real experience
riding horses, but Ma’ Primm brought him breakfast and the thought was lost as
he ate.

The food
tasted surprisingly good and Rowan ate with an appetite.

“When we
are finished here, we will find ourselves some mounts. I visited the stables
yesterday and learned of a few men who had horses for sale. I spoke to two men
who asked prices that were far greater than what I would pay and a third man
who had mounts but not prices.”

“He
didn’t know what he wanted for them?”

“It was
late in the day by that point and he was not actively looking to sell. For the
right price, he would be willing to part with his mounts but I had no time to
haggle and he was not in the mood. We shall visit him first and if we have no
luck then we shall try elsewhere. There were a few places I did not get around
to visiting.”

“When
will we be leaving?”

“Soon,”
Baird replied. “I mean to wash myself before leaving, and it would not hurt to
give my clothes a washing as well. After that we can pay for the room and go.”

Rowan
cleaned his plate quickly and found himself feeling much better. He and Baird
went upstairs and Rowan rinsed and dried his soiled clothing while Baird took
the wash basin and went to clean himself, seeming none too happy about the lack
of privacy to be had.

Even
after wringing his clothes out and pressing them, they remained slightly damp.
Frustrated but knowing that there was no time to properly dry them, Rowan
bundled them and stuck them in the bottom of his pack to keep from soaking
anything below.

Baird
returned and quickly packed his own belongings.

“Come,”
he said. “It is time to leave.”

Together
they went downstairs. Baird returned the key to the bartender, passing him a
small coin when he did. The man took both key and coin and turned away as
though he wished to have nothing more to do with them.

Outside
the sun was risen and the streets were once again filled.

“Ugh…Why
is it so bright?”

“You’ll
get no sympathy from me. Drinking is fun in the evening but harsh in the
morning. It will come easier with age and experience.”

Rowan
kept his silence and pulled up his hood to shade his eyes. The sun was not so
bad, but it still took him several minutes to adjust to the morning brightness.
Baird took the lead and the pair headed towards the city’s west gate.

The
crowds were not quite as busy as yesterday, but to Rowan they still seemed
overflowing. He could not stretch his arms without touching several people.
This truly was a city, so very different from anything he was used to. In
Corrinth, the streets were narrower and yet even on the special days of
celebration they were never so crowded.

Baird
led Rowan through the busy streets for a ways until they became too crowded for
his taste, at which point he turned onto a back street and began using the
wider alleys as paths. He stopped here and there to visit certain stalls and
vendors for supplies and food, spending little time haggling over prices. Rowan
noticed that he was careful to never show his purse. He would come to a price
and always would reach into his cloak and pull out the exact amount of coins,
never more and never less. It made it very hard to judge how much coin he
carried and Rowan made note of it as it would be a good habit to adopt. The
closer they got to the gates, the heavier both of their packs seemed to become,
weighed down by food and water skins and bedrolls that Baird and Rowan
purchased. The last was a weighty object, but Baird said that with horses the
weight would be easy to bear and Rowan needed little urging.

As they
neared the western edge of the city, Baird told Rowan to look for stables.
“Look for a sign depicting a rearing stallion on a high hill.” Rowan kept watch
but signs with rearing horses seemed very common near the gates and the city
stables. It seemed that the wealthy visitors kept their horses stabled near the
gates. It cost more and seemed inconvenient as the horse was not on hand, but
Baird said that the lords and ladies never had to fetch their own horses and
they had other more leisurely ways of travelling in the city.

They
eventually found the place that Baird had been looking for. The sign looked
much like many of the others they had passed. It was old and the paint was worn
but the carving was still visible and it hung from a pole extending from the
roof of a small building.