The Fuller's Apprentice (The Chronicles of Tevenar Book 1) (16 page)

A knock sounded on the door. Galia went to answer it, and called Josiah over.

Ledah stood there. “Can you come out and walk with me, Josiah?”

His face hot, he glanced over at Elkan for permission. The wizard nodded, a knowing smile on his face. “While you’re out, could you run over to the house where Meira’s staying and confirm we’ll be leaving at dawn tomorrow?”

Josiah nodded, glad to have the pretext of a simple errand to give an appearance of normality to his venture.

“Don’t stay out too long. You’ll need your sleep; morning comes early.”

“I won’t.” Josiah stepped out into the night, the door closing behind him.

Ledah reached for his hand. “Come on. Meira’s been staying with the Brewers; I’ll show you the way.”

They walked along the main road together. The stars were bright overhead, and yellow firelight spilled out the windows of homes.

The Brewers’ home was on the outskirts of the village. Meira, a sleepy Ravid in her arms, assured Josiah that she’d be packed and ready to leave first thing in the morning. Josiah and Ledah bid her good night and headed back toward town.

“Come on,” Ledah said, pulling Josiah down a side path. “Let’s walk down by the river.”

Josiah agreed. Night closed in around them, but Ledah strode with the assurance of one who had walked these paths in daylight and darkness her whole life. Josiah followed, secure in her leadership.

When they came to the riverbank, they picked their way along until they came to a spot where a gentle slope led down to a bank of gravel at the water’s edge. Ledah bent to pick up a stone and skipped it across the dark water. The ripples that spread as it bounced shattered the reflected moonlight into millions of splinters.

They watched the water together. Ledah turned to him, and with a feeling of inevitability Josiah put his arms around her. Their kiss was long and slow and gentle.

Ledah laid her head on his shoulder. Josiah awkwardly stroked her hair. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too.” She toyed with his fingers. “We might never see each other again.”

Josiah swallowed. “If you do come to Korisan after you make journeyman, my parents are Masters Hyam and Jensine Potter, on Potter’s Street. They’ll know where I am. I’m not sure if I’ll be back at the fulling mill then, or someplace else.”

“I’ll remember,” she assured him. She in turn was silent for a while. “You don’t owe me anything, Josiah. I mean, I’m not asking for any promises, or making any. This has been fun for both of us, that’s all.”

“Yes.” Josiah’s voice was rough. That’s what he wanted, wasn’t it? He was relieved she’d said it first. There couldn’t be anything binding between them, even if either of them had wanted it. But still… “You don’t owe me anything either.”

She sighed. “I’m glad we understand each other.” She lifted her head.

Her lips were hungry on his. Josiah lost himself in her sweetness, swept by dizzying waves of sensation that wiped away all other awareness but the fire of their touch.

At length they parted, caught their breaths, and kissed some more. Josiah was quite sure he could go on kissing Ledah forever. But eventually they tired a little, and Ledah again laid her head on his shoulder, her hands running along his back.

He tightened his arms around her. Elkan’s words of the previous afternoon flashed into his mind. He did want more. He wasn’t entirely sure of all the details of what his body was telling him it desired, but he had a pretty good idea of where it would end, and there was no way he was ready to go there yet.

Once again they kissed, slower this time, more gently. Josiah surrendered to the confusion of feeling frustrated and deeply satisfied at the same time.

Reluctantly, Ledah pulled away. “It’s getting late. Elkan expects you back. And my parents will be starting to worry.”

“Yes.” His hand played with a lock of her hair. “We should go.”

Neither moved. With a rueful laugh, Ledah moved in for one more kiss. “Now come on,” she ordered.

She turned back toward Galia’s house, but Josiah stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Let me walk you home.”

“Oh, all right. You’re sure you can find your way back in the dark?”

Josiah assured her he could. They made their way through the night towards Ledah’s home, not without several more stops along the way. But eventually, inevitably, they stood outside her door.

“I’d better not come see you off in the morning. It would just slow you down, and Elkan wouldn’t like that.”

“No. We’re leaving at dawn. You should sleep.”

“I’m usually up at dawn anyway, to feed the chickens and gather eggs. But you’re right. I won’t come.”

“This is good-bye, then.”

“Yes.” She kissed him for the last time, warm and gentle and not nearly long enough. She smiled into his eyes. “Good-bye, Josiah. May the Mother watch over you in your travels.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Good-bye, Ledah. May the Mother watch over you, too.”

She pushed the door open, it closed behind her, and she was gone. Josiah walked blindly through the night, his heart a complex tangle of emotions he didn’t even try to sort out. All he could concentrate on were images, impressions, sensations. Her lips, her eyes, her hands tumbled in tantalizing circles around him all the way back to Galia’s house and followed him into his dreams.

Nine

H
e was getting far too accustomed, Josiah decided, to rising before dawn. He yawned as he dressed and stuffed his belongings into his pack.

The first grey light of what promised to be a foggy and overcast day revealed Meira making her way down the road. Ravid was strapped to her back, and she led a laden donkey. It closely resembled Sar, except its grey was a few shades browner and it stood a handspan taller. Sar swiveled his ears toward the strange donkey, and the two animals put their noses together.

“Sar, this is Thistle,” Meira said. “She came with Ravid and me from Shalinthan.”

Elkan supervised the distribution of fresh supplies between their packs and the donkey’s burdens. As the brightening of the clouds in the east signaled the unseen sun’s arrival, the little group set out. Josiah noticed Meira look back in the direction of the cemetery. When she turned her face forward again, she wore a closed, private expression. He quickly averted his eyes.

The trail followed the river, veering away in places but always coming back, crossing several times on narrow wooden bridges or through shallow rocky fords. Josiah knew from the map that they would travel along the river all the way to where it joined with the Deorga and turned south out of the mountains. They’d spend a few days at Tathorlith there, then turn and follow the Deorga upstream.

Late in the afternoon, Meira stopped where the path forded a small stream that flowed from the north to join the river. She touched a blaze carved into a tree. “This is the place. Ravid and I traced this stream up to where we ran into the bandits.”

“All right.” Elkan looked around. “We can camp here for the night. Josiah, help Meira with her tent while I set up ours. Then you can get a fire going and start cooking while we go and investigate.” He turned to Meira. “If you’d rather, you can stay here with Josiah. I’m sure Sar and I can find the bandits’ camp from your description.”

“No. I’ll come with you.” She swallowed. “I want to make sure you see everything that happened. I won’t let Ravid’s murderers escape justice because you missed something I could have shown you.”

“Are you sure it won’t be too painful for you to see Ravid in our window? To see—”

Meira looked away, clenching her fists. “Of course it will. But I have to anyway.”

Elkan took half a step toward her, then stopped. After a moment he strode over to Sar and began unfastening the tent poles with sharp, jerky movements. “Josiah, there’s another clear spot over there. Take Thistle and start unloading.”

Josiah started putting up Meira’s tent while she changed Ravid’s diaper. She spread a blanket on the ground and laid the baby where he could watch, then came to help. Between the two of them her tent went up quickly, so Josiah went to help Elkan finish theirs.

The wizard worked in grim silence. Josiah waited until the last stake and rope were in place before he spoke. “Please, Elkan, can I go with you? I want to see what happened, too. The fire can wait until we get back.”

“No. Absolutely not. We’re going to have to watch a murder. A man’s violent death. Do you think I’d let an apprentice witness that without some compelling need? There’s no reason for you to see this. Meira and I can give evidence of what the window shows when the bandits come to trial.”

“But I—”

“No buts.” Elkan thrust the pail into Josiah’s hands. “Go fetch some water from the stream.”

Josiah seethed as he dipped the pail into the icy stream and lugged it back to camp. He wasn’t a child. He could handle watching whatever the window showed just fine. He might even notice something the others missed. He already knew about Ravid’s murder from Meira’s description. How would seeing it happen be any different?

He thought about following when Meira, with Ravid on her back, led Elkan and Sar up the little stream, but he knew he’d never get away with it. One of them would be certain to notice and send him back. And if they didn’t, Sar’s sharp ears would betray him. Instead he busied himself gathering firewood and cutting up meat and vegetables for the soup.

As it was getting dark, they returned. Meira wore a bleak, haunted expression, Elkan a forbidding scowl. Sar went to join Thistle grazing in a patch of grass near the river. Josiah ladled bowls of hot soup. Meira thanked him in a strained voice. Elkan took his with a curt nod. They ate in silence, the only sound a few brief whimpers from Ravid before Meira soothed him at her breast. As soon as she finished eating Meira bid them a quiet good-night and went to her tent.

Elkan watched her go, then turned to bank the fire. Josiah finally dared speak. “Did you see what you needed to?”

“Yes.” Elkan jabbed the poker into the coals, sending a burst of sparks flying. “Everything happened just as Meira described.”

“Is she going to be all right?”

Elkan sat back and rubbed his face. “I think so. She’s strong. I just wish there were some way I could…” He shook his head and went back to work on the fire. “But there’s not.”

Late that night Josiah woke to the sound of muffled sobs coming from the other tent. He opened his eyes to find Elkan lying rigid next to him, staring at the canvas ceiling. “Go back to sleep,” the wizard whispered.

Josiah tried, but only after the crying finally stopped and Elkan relaxed was he able to drift off again.

* * *

For the next two weeks they wound through the mountains, frequently venturing off the main river path to visit the many small farms and villages scattered through the area. Elkan was enthusiastically welcomed. He and Sar were pressed into service for everything from healing a child’s infected toenail to helping repair a collapsed well.

Meira was subdued for a few days, but gradually her mood brightened. Talking seemed to help, so Josiah tried to engage her in conversation as often as he could. Much of the time the way was too steep and difficult to allow for much talking, but at other times the land was more level, and they were able to walk abreast and converse. In response to Josiah’s questions, Meira told them about her work in the mines and her childhood as the daughter of a famous goldsmith.

“Mother would have loved it if I’d chosen to apprentice with her, but I was a bit of a rebel back then. I wanted to get my hands dirty. And my younger sister was far more gifted with gold than I was, anyway. Not many women go into mining if they’re not born to the craft, but I found it rewarding. And of course I met Ravid. We wed as soon as we became journeymen. We had dreams of finding a vein of gold or copper and founding a new mine once we were masters.” She sighed. “We could have done it, too. One of the sites we found on our journey was perfect. Very promising signs of a major gold deposit, close to a stream with plenty of water. Since we discovered it, the Miners’ Guild would almost certainly have given us the commission to develop it.” Her face set into determined lines. “I plan to apply anyway. I know a few people who might be willing to partner with me.”

They broke their journey the next Restday far from any settlement. Elkan held a brief private service for them. Josiah found it much easier to sit still and quiet for the allotted time under the open sky, with the rustle of wind in the trees and the gurgle of the water over rocks in his ears.

The next week they worked their way farther down the river valley. Detours to farmsteads became more frequent, with nearly every household requiring some minor healing or aid from Elkan. They observed the next Restday at one such holding, spending most of the service listening to a long rambling prayer of gratitude from the current farmer’s elderly father, thanking the Mother effusively for Elkan’s healing of his painful and debilitating case of shingles. The Fourthday after that was Springtide. They celebrated the new year in a tiny village which was elated to have visitors join them for the holiday.

The next week they camped two nights in a row because no farms were nearby when it came time to stop for the night. On the third day it rained, the blustery wind cutting right through Josiah’s cloak. He was grateful when Elkan led them down a branching path a bit earlier than they usually stopped for the night, anticipating the shelter of strong walls and the warmth of a fire.

They rounded the last bend and came into view of a farmhouse. It was typical of many others where they’d stayed, rough-hewn wooden walls topped by a slate roof. A few goats wandered about the yard, but most of the flock huddled in the shelter of a three-walled shed.

The door opened a crack to Elkan’s knock, and a thin-faced, nervous looking girl, around Josiah’s age or a bit younger, peered out. Elkan assumed his most reassuring attitude. “Greetings. My name is Elkan Farmerkin Wizard, and I—”

The girl turned from them. “Mother!” she called back into the warmly lit room. “Mother! It’s a wizard!”