The Fuller's Apprentice (The Chronicles of Tevenar Book 1) (37 page)

“Meira…” Josiah had to strain to hear. Elkan’s voice was a ragged whisper. “I shouldn’t… I’ve tried, all these months, not to let myself… but Mother help me, I could love you. I do.”

Josiah couldn’t resist. He peered around the window frame. He needn’t have worried; neither Meira nor Elkan had eyes for anything but the other. They leaned toward each other, Meira’s face radiant, Elkan’s anguished, but at the last moment Elkan turned away. Josiah ducked down again; Elkan had nearly caught a glimpse of him.

“But don’t you see? It doesn’t matter. I can’t be what you need, what you deserve. You should have someone who can live here with you, be your partner. This is your home, you have your craft. Even if they sent me here, it wouldn’t be forever. I’d always have to be ready to go wherever I was assigned, where the need was greatest. You don’t want a wizard’s life, I promise you don’t. That’s why most of us never marry. It’s too much to ask of anyone. My first loyalty must always be to the Guild, to the Mother.”

“But some wizards marry? It’s not forbidden?”

“No. Some do.”

“Then why couldn’t we try? I know you’ll always be a wizard first, it’s part of what I love about you. Even if I must always take second place, I’d choose that over any other man’s first.”

“You say that now, but you don’t know how it would be.”

“Neither do you!”

Elkan didn’t reply for so long Josiah was tempted to peek again. When he finally spoke, his voice was heavy. “Yes, Meira, I do. It’s not something I like to talk about, but you deserve to know.” Another pause, and the sound of an indrawn breath. “I—I was married, once.”

Josiah’s mouth fell open. Meira sounded as astonished as Josiah felt. “You were? When? What happened?”

Elkan’s words were guarded and halting at first, but gradually grew faster and more reckless. “We were apprentices when we met. She was a baker; she worked in a shop near the Mother’s Hall. I was young, she was beautiful… My master warned me to be careful, but of course I didn’t listen. We stood up the first Restday after the Springtide we both became journeymen.

“Neither of us realized how things would change. Elathir is much, much larger than Shalinthan; the demands on the wizards there are enormous. I was full of enthusiasm, wanting to serve the Mother with all my heart, wanting to prove how devoted, how selfless I was. Many days I left home before sunrise and didn’t return until past sunset, drained and exhausted as only the Mother’s power can leave you. I was thriving, I loved my work, I was gaining just the sort of reputation I wanted, but I was blind to her discontent. I left her to eat too many evening meals by herself, go to bed alone too often…”

Meira had started out making small sympathetic noises in response to Elkan’s words, but they’d become fewer and father between. Now she fell silent.

“We’d been married more than a year, yet we were practically strangers. It’s no wonder she found another to give her what I couldn’t. When she came to me, saying she wanted to break our bond… it shocked me, for I truly hadn’t known she was so unhappy. I fought it. I tried to hold on to her, tried to rekindle what we’d had.” He took a deep breath. “She accused me of an indiscretion with a female patient. It was easy to disprove; the Mother’s eyes are everywhere. But there had to be a public trial once the accusation was made. In my anger and shame I demanded proof of her infidelity. I made them open a window right there in open court.”

Meira made a small strangled sound of distress.

“It was ugly, and cruel, and petty, and in the end it made no difference, for by then our bond was broken past mending. The official declaration was only a formality. There were no children, thank the Mother. It’s been more than five years now. In that time I’ve seen other wizard marriages fail as well. Enough to convince me that mine wasn’t a fluke, that wizards shouldn’t marry. Except perhaps another wizard, and even then the chances of making it work are slim.”

Meira drew a deep breath. “Elkan, I… I had no idea. I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry.”

“I’ve learned my lesson and moved on. Once tempers cooled our masters mediated a peace between us. We both apologized and forgave. She’s happy with her new husband; they were expecting their third child last I heard. I still stop by her shop and buy a pastry now and then.

“So now you see why I can never think of marrying again. Even though—
especially
though—I do love you, far too much. I want you to be happy. I want you to have someone to love and make a life with, to be a father to Ravid, to give you more children, to share your days and nights, to grow old with you…”

“Elkan, I want that with you. It wouldn’t have to be like it was before. We could make it work, I know we could.”

“Don’t. Please, don’t. I can’t. It’s not possible.”

“If it’s wizardry that stands between us…” Meira hesitated. “You could leave the Wizards’ Guild. No, wait, hear me out. They ask too much. I’ve watched; I know what it takes out of you. You’ve given them fourteen years of your life, surely that’s enough. Father would be willing to take you on as journeyman; he’d be delighted to think his field might stay in the family after all. You’re Farmerkin, it would be easy to get the Farmers’ Guild to agree.”

“Meira, Meira, you don’t know what you’re asking. Wizardry’s not just another craft, it’s a calling. The Mother chose me. Serving her is my life. I could never be whole apart from that. And I’m needed, there are so few of us. You wouldn’t suggest it if you understood.”

Josiah heard pain and great weariness in Elkan’s voice. “I think you need to leave. There’s nothing more to say. It would have been better if you hadn’t come, if we could have parted tomorrow as friends, instead of this way. Please, just go. Go.”

A long moment of silence, then a rustle. Josiah dared another look. Meira had risen to her feet; Elkan rose to face her. Her voice was high and strained. “That’s your final word, then. You won’t even consider—”

“No.”

“You’re sure.”

“Very sure.”

Meira’s hands came to her mouth, and she nodded, slowly. “I guess—” Her voice broke. She closed her eyes, shook her head, tried again. “I guess this is good-bye. I won’t come in the morning.”

“No.”

“May… may the Mother go with you… on your journey—” The words ended in a strangled sob. Meira whirled, and fled from the stable, her steps quickening to a run. The door crashed behind her.

Elkan stared after her for a long moment. He sank back onto his stool and buried his face in his hands. Sar moved over to Elkan and put his muzzle down to blow gently at him. Elkan pushed the donkey away, rose so abruptly his stool overturned, and stormed from the building, the door banging shut behind him.

Josiah shrank into the shadows, but Elkan was oblivious to his surroundings as he strode back to the inn. Josiah crept to his room. He crawled in bed with Tobi, but it was a long time before he could go to sleep.

The next morning they rose before sunrise, loaded up the animals, and said their good-byes. Hadara and Elkan embraced companionably; Kalti consented to clasp Josiah’s hand. Josiah put his arms around Tobi’s neck, murmuring endearments and admonishments to behave into her ear, the smudged grey mark of the Mother’s touch clear in the attentively perked triangle. Finally, reluctantly, he let her go and watched her pad beside Kalti down the street that would carry them out of town to the east. He, Elkan, and Sar set out towards the west. Josiah looked frequently over his shoulder, catching a few last glimpses of Tobi bounding ahead of her new companions before she was lost to sight for good. But Elkan set his face toward their destination and did not look back.

Twenty

T
he mountain meadow was so beautiful and would make such a perfect campsite that Elkan consented to stop for the night earlier than usual. The sinking sun glinted off water sliding over slick black rocks into a pool and sparkled from flakes of mica in the sand. Josiah studied Elkan surreptitiously as they made camp. In the three days since they left Shalinthan he hadn’t perceived a difference in Elkan’s manner, even in light of his new knowledge of the wizard’s past. He kept any regret he might feel over leaving Meira strictly to himself.

The pot of stew bubbled over the fire. Josiah lay back in the soft grass, watching buzzards circle overhead. Sar grazed far across the meadow, near a dense stand of trees at the base of a steep slope.

Elkan sat by Josiah in companionable silence. Josiah closed his eyes. He was hungry, and the stew smelled wonderful. He contemplated getting a piece of bread to tide him over until the meal was ready, but he was so comfortable. Maybe in a few minutes.

Sar’s harsh bray split the quiet evening like a trumpet. Josiah bolted upright, wide uncomprehending eyes taking in Sar surrounded by a cluster of men, a rope around his neck, plunging and kicking despite attempts to rope his heels as well.

A sack dropped over his own head and rough hands seized him from behind. Josiah struggled, but he was quickly bound tight. Grunts and curses beside him gave evidence Elkan was putting up a more effective resistance, but the sounds of struggle ended with a dull thud.

Josiah spit the folds of muffling cloth from his mouth. “Let us go! Elkan’s a wizard! You can’t do this—”

“Shut up, boy,” came a lazy drawl. “Kabos, haven’t you got that beast secured yet?”

Sar’s screams still echoed, but a deep, familiar voice answered. “We’ve got him.”

“Can’t you shut him up? Anyone within miles will hear him.” The man took Josiah’s knife from its sheath and cut his small purse from his belt. Sar’s noisy protests abruptly halted. Josiah wondered, sick, what they’d done to him.

“Nothing but a few coppers.” Josiah heard the man spit. “Ah, this is better.” Josiah knew Elkan’s purse contained all the money he’d withdrawn from the Wizards’ Guild account to last them through the next stage of their journey. “But even with their gear it’s barely worth the effort, even for ordinary travelers. Why’d you have us take on a wizard for so little?”

Kabos’ voice was much closer now. “I have my reasons, Tereid.”

Tereid snorted. “One more beast to bear our burdens will be welcome, at least. My back certainly won’t complain.” Chuckles answered him. “Smash it, idiots, keep the donkey away from the wizard! Don’t you know what they can do together? I don’t want to see that beast within fifty yards of him. So, Kabos, what are we going to do now we’ve caught them?”

“Bring them to Ozor. He’ll decide.”

“Very well. Get their gear gathered up. Put it on the donkey.” Josiah listened, shaking with fear and despair despite his best efforts to keep control of his emotions, while the bandits dismantled the campsite. A noisy tussle followed, punctuated by grunts and angry shouts. “All right, we’ll carry it ourselves. Shonika will enjoy breaking this one.”

A hand seized Josiah’s upper arm and hauled him up. The ropes binding his feet were cut, and the sack pulled from his head. “Don’t try anything, boy.” Tereid spoke low in Josiah’s ear. “The wizard may bring a ransom, but you’re not worth anything.” He raised his voice. “Hear that, wizard?”

Josiah looked desperately at Elkan. The wizard nodded. “Do what they tell you, Josiah.” Rigidly controlled anger burned in his eyes and voice. A bruise purpled around a cut on his cheek; blood dripped onto his tunic. His hands were bound. Kabos stood behind him, holding a knife to the small of his back.

Josiah felt a prick in his own back as Tereid urged him forward. He glared at his captor. The bandit was tall and athletically built, handsome except for the sneer that marred his clean-shaven face. “Take the donkey first, and I’ll come after with the boy. Kabos, bring the wizard.”

Sar’s determined efforts hampered Tereid’s plan. Ropes bound him, and his mouth was muzzled with cloth and rope, but he laid his ears back and refused to budge, even when one of the bandits whacked his rump with a cudgel. Shouts, beating, and even poking knives only made him dig his hooves more firmly into the ground. But strong and stubborn as he was, Sar was small. Two bandits dragging from the front and three more shoving from behind were able to haul him along by sheer force. Their progress was slow and difficult, accompanied by much swearing, but they set off down the mountain path.

Josiah seethed, but cooperated lest Tereid urge him along with jabs from his knife. He watched frantically for any chance of escape, but the bandits were skilled and thorough. He wanted to speak to Elkan, but he didn’t dare try, not with Tereid and Kabos guarding them so closely.

The sun set; the bandits lit torches and went on. They turned off the main road and pushed through thick woods. Tereid and Kabos kept them moving with a combination of encouragement and threats.

The nearly full moon was high overhead when Josiah caught sight of flickering yellow light through the trees. They emerged into a clearing where the bandits had established their camp. Commotion greeted them as men and women emerged from their tents and exclaimed over the captives.

A man stepped out of the largest tent. He wasn’t very tall, but had a presence that caused the others to give way respectfully before him. As he came into the torchlight Josiah recognized the round face and pointed beard he had heard described.

“Kabos, what’s this?” The man’s voice was low and dangerous.

Kabos faced him. “Prisoners, Ozor. The wizard I told you about. Don’t you approve? He had gold and goods, the donkey is strong and healthy, and he’ll bring a good ransom.”

Ozor stared at Kabos. “Did you think that would be worth the risk of taking a
wizard
?” He grabbed a fold of Elkan’s cloak and shook it in Kabos’ face. “We rode halfway across Tevenar to escape this one’s notice, and you bring him to us?”

Kabos shifted and glowered at Ozor. “We spotted them this afternoon, headed right toward us. We trailed them until we had the opportunity to catch him away from his familiar. He’s helpless without the beast. As long as we keep them separated, he’s just like any other prisoner.”

“Not
him
, the others!” Ozor clenched his fists, drawing a deep breath. “I forget, you’re from these mountains. You’ve never been around their guild. I should have made sure you understood. They’ll never let one of their own go. As soon as they realize we’ve got him we’ll have a pack of them on our trail, and all our tricks won’t be enough to lose them. The only way we’ve stayed free this long is because we’ve avoided drawing their attention.” Ozor looked warily at Elkan, suddenly aware that he was listening to everything the bandit was saying. “Take the donkey to Shonika, and put the wizard and the boy in the stores tent until I decide what to do with them.”