The Wheelwright's Apprentice (26 page)

Art straightened up preparing for the crunch. All his senses were judging the moment, when Captain Hanna’s voice cut the tension, “STOP!” He walked over to Art and slapped him on the back. “Well done, you passed. Don’t worry about Davi. It was all an act.” The Captain shook Davi’s hand, “That was a fine job.” Addressing the room, he said, “I think Art here has proved to you that he won’t run away from a fight, even if his chances don’t look too good.” There was a banging of cups.

Art slumped. It had all been an initiation from the beginning, and he had never even noticed.

Davi had his hand stretched out, “No hard feelings then?”

Art took the hand. “I’m glad I don’t have to worry about you attacking me.”

Davi held his hand longer than necessary and grinned. “Leastwise not when I’m sober. If I get drunk, watch ouunk, watt!”

41

Art was walking. He had in fact been walking for hours. He was not amongst those privileged to ride a horse, or drive or sit in the carts carrying their supplies. In any case walking was a lot easier and more relaxing than nearly everything else he had done recently. He had customized his boots so that even after hours of hard slogging along, his feet were happy. Walking with others was a good way to get to know people, and he had been talking contentedly and making friends. Life was good.

Captain Hanna brought his horse alongside Art, and cut him away from his group saying, “Let’s talk.” He rode far enough forward to be out of their earshot, and eventually asked, “Holding up?”

“Believe me, this is easy. Compared with the crap I’ve been putting up with, this is pretty sweet.”

“Would you have knocked Big Davi out?”

“Given one or two more seconds and a bit of luck, yes. How did you know when to step in?”

The Captain laughed. “I’ve been a fighter for over twenty years.” Art reddened. “What happened to all those pitchers of ale?”

“That wasn’t easy. I decorated a bucket with a pattern inside on the bottom. That’s so I had a place to send the stuff. I put it on the outhouse roof. Every single time I swallowed, I had to move it over there. It wasn’t easy. I had to practice for an hour behind the brewhouse before I got it right. By then I was sick of the taste. Shame it wasn’t wine, I know how to change that into juice easily.”

“Don’t think of doing that with my wine.” He reined his horse to a stop. “We are coming to the border. I want you to stay near me and observe. I’ll get your impressions later.”

The border post was marginal at best. Art had never seen one before, having flitted in when he had visited Hanpo with his father. There were two bored, unshaven officials and a few huts, one of which he suspected was accommodations for a small troop of soldiers. They weren’t in evidence. Since the Captain had a letter from the Earl, the formalities went swiftly. In any case, no one in their right mind was going to give a mercenary force of a hundred or so a hard time.

Once they were out of sight, the Captain found him, and got his impressions. “I didn’t see any troops although there were facilities for them. The officials didn’t look like officials. Where I come from they dress well and look neat. At least one had been drinking, as I could smell wine on his breath. I wasn’t very impressed.”

“I bet it’d take something special to impress you anyway.”

“Actually, no. I am not well traveled, and I have had a very...” Art paused as if he couldn’t find the word he wanted. “...restricted upbringing. New things will catch my eye and yes, even impress me. People are different. I have come across lots of people and am getting pretty good at judging character.”

“What about Davi?”

“You chose well there. You see, he does want my body, and that rather overwhelmed the fact that he wasn’t prepared to act forcibly.”

“Getting back to the border post, notice anything else?”

“I wouldn’t want the job. No little comforts, no personal touches. Place is a dump.”

“It always has been. You lived in a nice country where the Count has had things well organized for hundreds of years. One foot over the border and it’s totally different. It actually gets worse.” The Captain left him to ponder that nugget.

An hour or so later, the Captain came back to him. “We have a broken wheel that needs your attention.”

This delayed the small column as Art found his tools and went to the stalled wagon. Davi was the driver. “I should have guessed. Your weight was too much for the wagon.” Davi didn’t reply but returned a sour look. After Art took a cursory look at the wheel, he gave his prognosis. “This’ll take nearly an hour.”

The Captain came to a quick decision. “I’m going to leave you. We need to keep going as the troops can only walk so fast, and we need to be where we’re going by nightfall. You can go faster and catch up when your wheel has been repaired.” He caught Davi’s eye and smirked, “Don’t worry, you’ll be safe. Art will protect you.”

Davi’s reply, “Yes sir,” had a definite questioning edge to it.

Art didn’t give him time to think. He put Davi straight to work getting the wagon propped up enough to get the wheel off. “I am quite good at this.” He pulled a medallion from around his neck and tossed it to Davi. “I’m sure you never noticed this when I undressed for the shower. It says I am a Journeyman wheelwright. Please keep out of my way. Let me work and I’ll be finished quickly.”

Davi watched quietly as Art expertly removed and painstakingly replaced the damaged sections of rim and spokes. Sooner than he expected, it was finished and the wheel was back on.

Davi was settling himself back in the driver’s seat when an arrow came out of nowhere and lodged in his shoulder. Art looked around, and saw half a dozen mounted bandits. “Davi, Drive the wagon! I’ll fix those idiots.”

Arrows started sprouting from all over the wagon and its load, but none hit either man as Davi managed to whip the horses into motion and Art scrabbled for a bow. Art smiled. The bandits were content to keep their distance and attempt to make them into pincushions. This would have been a good tactic except none of the arrows would ever hit their mark. To Davi it seemed like forever as arrows fell all around him, before Art started shooting back. Of course, he cheated. Each arrow was carefully Willed into the bandits’ bodies to disable but not to kill. When three bandits had been hit, Art broke the foreleg of the leading horse. This made it fall down, and brought down the one behind it as well. That was enough discouragment for the bandits, and they gave up the chase.

Art, who had been in back, bracing himself on the load, stepped into the seat by Davi. “It’s over, but you’d best drive a bit more before I look at that arrow.”

“That’s fine. It doesn’t hurt. I can wait until we reach the Earl’s Border Castle.”

Ten minutes later Art called a halt in his commanding voice. Davi stopped at once. He didn’t look too good. His face was white and he had been very quiet. Art took his hand and looked him in the eye. “Do you trust me?” Davi nodded slowly.

He woke up a few minutes later to see Art holding a bloody arrow. “What happened? Is that the one that...” Davi trailed off as more questions posed themselves.

“Those bandits attacked tÀts attache wrong person, that’s what happened.” Art pointed to a big pile of arrows on the seat next to him. “Those missed. This one...” He gave it to Davi. “...got you. How do you feel?”

He undid his shirt, saw the hole in it, and saw his smooth skin.

“Roll your shoulder, and see.” Davi gingerly raised his arm and carefully moved his shoulder around. He looked questioningly up. Art only said, “Let’s hurry and catch up.”

A long silent hour later Davi asked, “Can I see that medallion again?” Art passed it over. “You really are a Journeyman wheelwright?”

“Yes.”

“On the medallion, it says ‘Gim’.

“I use different names for different faces.”

Davi was again quiet for a long time. “That was you coming out of the outhouse last night?”

“Yeah, I was trying to get you disconcerted, make you wonder if you were drunker than you thought.”

“It worked. What would have happened if the Captain hadn’t stopped us?”

“There was a good chance I’d have laid you out. Not with one punch to the jaw, although that was what it would have looked like, but because I would have interfered with your brain’s blood supply at the same time. If I had got the timing wrong, you would have pummeled me into the ground and swung me over your shoulder...”

“Can’t do everything then?”

“I’m not prepared to do everything.” He fingered the hole in Davi’s shirt. “I hope you can use a needle. I don’t like killing. Those bandits only got flesh wounds. It had to look like we got lucky. I don’t want anyone to get the idea that there is someone like me around.”

“Why’s that?”

“People like me get very nervous about other people like me. Especially foreign people like me. We are a huge threat to each other, in truth the only real threat. I told the Captain about myself as he may have need of a healer sometime. No one else. Please don’t mention this to anyone...” He turned his head away, and then back. It was the ugly face. “...or I don’t know what I’ll do.”

Davi burst out laughing. After a moment, so did Art. When Davi asked, “What the hell is that?” Art turned away and back, this time with the ridiculously handsome face Davi had seen the night before. “That one I can’t laugh at. Are any the one you were born with?”

“No. I don’t like using it.” He let his features flow. “Can you guess why?”

Davi looked carefully, “Seems somewhat familiar.”

“I bear a strong resemblance to my father.”

“Oh. I can see why that would be difficult. Why are you here?”

“My father sent me. He is managing my life. I’m not exactly in a position to defy him. Then again, no one is, are they? But that’s fine. It’s interesting so far, and it’s a lot less demanding than some of the other things he could make me do.” The wagon rattled as they hit a bump. His voice lowered. “Of course, the fact that he has unknowingly separated me and my girl has got me extremely pissed off. Know where we’re going?”

“Another couple of hours and we’ll get to a castle. I guess you miss her.” When Art said notÀ Art saihing, Davi said, “I like you. No not that way,” he added quickly, “Well, perhaps I do, but that’s not what I meant. I don’t have many friends. Most of the others are scared of me as I’m so big, and my er...tastes are a bit different. You’re not afraid at all, so I can talk to you easily. It makes a change.”

“I do miss her, even though I could be in her bedroom...” Art snapped his fingers. “...like that.” They were both rambling between different subjects, but seemed to understand each other. “The problem is getting back here, and being able to act as if I was a normal person. That means not being missed, and having a suitable memorized spot to flit back to.” They drove on for a while, both caught up in their own thoughts. “I don’t have too many people I can talk to either. All my childhood friends were slaughtered a while ago by raiders. Having the Will makes it a little hard to make friends. My girl started as a friend. When we first met she didn’t know I had the Will, but she guessed I already had a girlfriend. If Amia hadn’t been killed...I’m sorry”

Davi wasn’t sure what Art was talking about but knew he was unsettled. “Life isn’t easy is it?”

“There are times when it gets bad, but whatever happens, it’s a lot better than the alternative. Your life can’t have been that easy either.”

“No, I suppose not. Never knew my father, and my mum died trying to give me a sister.” At Art’s horrified expression, he added, “Born in Waygand, not your wonderful Galland. No Willed healers like you for the masses there. Not so many with the Will either, so the poor die of things you could fix easily.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It actually worked out reasonably well for me. I went to live with my mum’s cousin who was a carter and had three sons of his own. I pulled my weight, and as I got bigger I worked harder.” He smiled shyly. “I liked the middle son. He was just a couple of months younger than me. We were firm friends. He liked me too. For a couple of years it was wonderful. Then his dad found out and I was sent away. I’ve never been back.” He checked the road ahead, noting the freshness of the cart tracks. “We should be catching them up soon.”

Art changed his focus. “Haven’t seen many people on the road.”

“No, only the bandits. This was the first time I’d seen any.”

“I don’t suppose they’d bother the full co
mpany.”

Davi suppressed a rueful grin. “Got me there.” They continued along the roadway, noticing the tracks left by the company’s carts. A couple of miles further on the cart tracks were obliterated by something else. “Them’s horse tracks, fair lot I’d say.”

“Let’s be careful about the riders. This hasn’t been a very friendly road.” They drove on until Art saw that the road was going to enter a defile. “Nice place for an ambush. With the way the day’s going, I’d be an idiot not to check it out.”

Davi stopped the cart to let Art off. Before Art hit the ground he was invisible. Davi drove on a bit, brought the cart to a halt, and walked into the bushes at the roadside, loosening his pants. He would be a distraction to anyone who was watching.

Art walked straight into the defile. There might have been a bit of a fight, but not much of one. The wagons were stationary, and there were a lot of troops in a dark green uniform. Their comrades were not in view. In this friendly country, they had been tooÀ had bee relaxed.

Art recalled Captain Hanna’s earlier remark about it getting worse. He hadn’t been joking.