The Fuller's Apprentice (The Chronicles of Tevenar Book 1) (2 page)

“Of course.” Master Sef released Josiah, who panted and shook his head. He turned to look at his rescuer.

The man was tall and slim, young, perhaps in his mid-twenties, with skin the warm olive common to all the people of Tevenar. He held himself straight and composed, his level gaze meeting Master Sef’s. He was dressed in a grey tunic and breeches, simply cut and decorated with intricate grey embroidery. From his shoulders fell a long brown cloak. Josiah’s breath caught. The cloth was the warm earth tone of undyed brown wool, threaded with pin stripes of indigo blue and goldenrod yellow to form a simple plaid. The same cloth as the bolt in the box behind him.

This must be the representative of the Wizards’ Guild, here to inspect the progress of their work. His power had held the stock in midair and saved Josiah’s life.

The wizard patted the donkey. Josiah eyed it, fascinated. That must be the wizard’s familiar. All the wizards were paired with a companion animal of some sort. Cats and dogs were common, along with deer, horses, and hawks, but Josiah had heard tales of familiars of all species, including a famous master wizard of the past whose familiar had been a chicken.

The donkey and the wizard exchanged a look. The donkey twitched an ear and headed for the door. The wizard turned back to Master Sef, who still glowered at Josiah. “We came to check the fabric.”

“Yes, of course.” Master Sef picked up a stirring stick and fished around in the box, lifting one end of the bolt. Josiah’s heart fell. The cloth showed the unmistakable signs of having been left beneath the fulling stocks too long. The pattern had shrunk far too much and bunched up tight in many places. In others the cloth had worn thin. In a few spots it had been pounded right through, leaving ragged holes.

Master Sef dropped the cloth in disgust. “Ruined. The whole bolt. I’m afraid this will set the Guild’s order back. I’ll contact the spinners and weavers to see if they have enough wool to replace it. They won’t be pleased, but if they work through the night it shouldn’t take but a week for the new bolt to be ready. The Fullers’ Guild will of course absorb the cost.” Josiah shrank beneath his master’s cold gaze, far worse than his earlier bluster. He knew Master Sef was calculating the loss of revenue, down to the last coin. The ruined bolt would cut deeply into the Fullers’ Guild’s profits for the season. “We’ll get started immediately. The rest of the order should be ready for delivery as promised.”

The wizard nodded. “That should be satisfactory, as long as it gets to the tailors in time. The cloaks must be ready for the new apprentices at Springtide. I’ll take word back to the Mother’s Hall so they can accommodate the delay.”

Master Sef turned back to Josiah. “As for you, I’m terminating your apprentice contract. When I chose you last year, I was impressed by your intelligence and deftness. I thought you had the makings of a decent fuller. But you’ve proven me wrong. You have no sense of responsibility. You’re a danger to yourself and the rest of my workers. It was only by the grace of the Mother and Wizard Elkan’s quick thinking you didn’t get yourself killed. Pack your things and go home. Inform your parents we’ll expect the return of the apprentice price the Fullers’ Guild paid for you. Less the year you’ve already served, though I’ve gotten little enough value from you for it.”

Josiah stared at him, open-mouthed. He swallowed and ducked his head, hot shame flushing his face. He was being sacked? Sent home to his parents in disgrace? Only the most lazy, incompetent, or dishonest apprentices were dismissed from their contracts. Much as Josiah had come to realize he’d be miserable living out his life as a fuller, he’d never contemplated being freed from his apprenticeship this way. No respectable master would take him now. News of his disgrace would spread to everyone in Korisan. He would no longer be perceived as a promising youth, but as a reckless and irresponsible troublemaker. He’d be lucky to find a master even among the notoriously undemanding and perpetually short-staffed ranks of the Laborers’ Guild.

And how would his parents afford to pay back his apprentice price? The six years remaining on his contract would be a dear sum. The payment was officially to the Potters’ Guild, as his kinguild, but in practice the money had gone to his family. They’d received permission from the guild to spend on it building the new kiln. Now they’d have to apply to the guild for a loan, and would be required to let other potters use the new kiln in return, just when their business was more productive than ever. This would be a severe setback. No guild that might take him now would pay even a tenth of the price.

Josiah forced his features into stony indifference. “Yes, sir.” He turned to leave. He’d pack his meager belongings and be off, hopefully before the other apprentices finished their work for the day.

“Might I suggest a different solution?” The wizard’s voice was quiet. Both Master Sef and Josiah looked at him in surprise.

“There’s no need to ruin the child’s whole future over a momentary lapse of judgment. Everyone makes mistakes. I’m sure he’s learned his lesson.” The wizard gave Josiah an appraising look. Josiah squirmed and dropped his eyes.

Master Sef glowered, but the status of the Wizards’ Guild demanded his deference. “With all due respect, Wizard Elkan, this isn’t the first time the boy’s proven inadequate to the demands of his position. I cannot in good conscience keep him at the mill any longer. You saw for yourself what a danger he is to himself and those around him.”

“I agree this isn’t the best place for him right now. But I have a proposal for you to consider. I’ve been looking to take on an assistant. Over the next year I’m going to be making a circuit around Tevenar, bringing the Mother’s power to outlying regions with no wizards of their own. When I set out from Elathir a few weeks ago, another journeyman was supposed to accompany me, but a family emergency arose and he had to stay behind. It’s more work than a single wizard is usually expected to handle alone. The Mother’s Hall in Korisan is shorthanded and can’t spare anyone. I’d resigned myself to doing without, but it seems the Mother has other plans.”

Josiah looked up, hope dawning. Did he really understand correctly what the wizard was saying?

“Let the boy come with me. The Wizards’ Guild will pay for a year of his contract. When it’s over, I’ll bring him back. Hopefully by then he’ll have matured and be ready to fulfill his responsibilities. If not, we can make other arrangements.”

Master Sef looked back and forth from Josiah to the wizard, wavering. Josiah hoped he was considering the wizard’s offer. His master wouldn’t want to offend the Wizards’ Guild by refusing. Josiah put on his most meek and repentant face.

“Very well.” Master Sef’s voice was gruff, but Josiah thought he detected a note of relief. Sacking an apprentice was embarrassing to a master. Many would believe he’d failed in his duty to discipline and instruct his student. But apprentices were loaned out to other crafts all the time. As part of his apprenticeship in the Fullers’ Guild, Josiah would be expected to serve a year each with the spinners, weavers, and tailors before his education would be considered complete. While it was unusual for someone to spend time with such an unrelated craft, it wasn’t unheard of, and wouldn’t carry the same stigma as dismissal. “Come to my office and I’ll draw up the papers.”

Josiah didn’t wait to hear any more. He darted from the mill, slowing only when he reached the yard. He stopped and breathed deeply, struggling to contain his apprehension and excitement.

The donkey looked up from where it was grazing. It regarded Josiah with a solemn expression, chewing a long wisp of grass that dangled from its mouth.

“Did you hear that, donkey? I’m coming with you and your master. He said we’ll be traveling all around Tevenar, for a whole year. Can you believe it? I’ve never even been out of Korisan before.”

The donkey flicked one long ear forward and bent its head again to graze.

“Listen to me, talking to an animal. It’s not like you can understand me.” Josiah stroked the donkey’s soft back. The beast was small, his shoulders only a little higher than Josiah’s waist. His coat was dove grey, deepening to brown in a stripe from the base of his mane to his tail and another across his withers. His mane was creamy white and stuck up straight in a ridge along his neck. He wore no harness or bridle.

“Well, good-bye, donkey. I’ve got to go. See you later.” Josiah set off toward the apprentice barracks.

The long low building was deserted at this time of day. Josiah went to his bunk against the far wall and opened the chest at its foot. He didn’t own much. Two changes of tunic and breeches, a sleep shirt, a weeks’ worth of underwear and socks, a towel, a comb. A few miscellaneous trinkets he’d picked up over the past year. His spare pair of boots. He stuffed everything into his pack haphazardly, slung it over his shoulders, and hurried out into the spring sunshine.

The wizard emerged from the mill. The donkey lifted his head from his grazing and trotted over to him. Josiah eyed the two of them as he went to join them, wondering just what he’d gotten himself into.

The wizard nodded at him. “Master Sef and I have settled accounts. You’re employed by the Wizards’ Guild now. He said your parents live in town? I’d like to meet them, to reassure them their son is in good hands.” He gestured toward the road. “Lead the way.”

“Yes, master.”

“Oh, I’m not a master yet, just a sixth-year journeyman. All wizards are required to travel one of the circuits while they’re a journeyman, as part of their training. Since I chose the Outer Circuit, the longest, I’ll be able to count it as my masterwork. If all goes as planned, my mastery will be waiting for me at the end of our journey. Until then, you can just call me Elkan. Or Wizard Elkan, if you insist on formality.”

“Yes, Wizard Elkan.” Josiah was a little scandalized by the thought of calling his master, even if he wasn’t actually a master yet, by his unadorned name.

“Master Sef tells me your name is Josiah. Josiah Potterkin Fuller.”

“Yes, sir. Although…” He hesitated.

“Yes?” Elkan prompted after the moment of silence had grown uncomfortable.

“It’s just… I don’t think I’m properly entitled to Fuller, anymore.” Josiah bit his lip and looked at the ground. He had been so proud, the previous Springtide at his apprenticing, to formally add his guild name to his birth name.

The wizard placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Master Sef still holds your contract, so you’re still a member of the Fullers’ Guild. I’m just borrowing you for a year. With luck, he’ll be willing to accept your service again when we return. No one can fault you for continuing to call yourself a Fuller.”

Josiah nodded glumly. But he did look up again.

“And I, Josiah, am Elkan Farmerkin Wizard.” He waved at the donkey. “And this is Sardonyx. We’re very pleased to make your acquaintance.” The donkey bobbed his head. Elkan held his hand out, and Josiah clasped it.

The motion pulled at the scrape on his upper arm where the stock had grazed him, and he winced. He’d forgotten about the injury until now, relegating the sting to the back of his mind.

Elkan frowned. “Let me see that.” He studied the wound. “It’s not serious, but I’m sure it must be painful. We can take care of it, if you’d like.”

Josiah had never been sick or injured enough to need a wizard’s healing. He felt apprehensive, but nodded. Elkan put one hand on the back of the donkey, who turned to look at Josiah’s arm, and held the other just above the wound. For a moment man and donkey were still.

Josiah felt a pleasant, tingling warmth envelope his arm. He peered over his shoulder. The same soft golden light that had surrounded the fulling stock glowed around his arm. When the light faded and Elkan took his hand away, the wound was gone, only a faint redness remaining. He stretched his arm experimentally, free from pain.

He stammered his thanks, but Elkan waved them away. “It’s our duty. The Mother gives us her power so we can use it to help her children. We don’t usually spend our energy on small wounds like this, but there are advantages to being a wizard’s traveling companion.”

Josiah had heard all sorts of conflicting stories and rumors about wizards, and never known which to believe. Now he could see for himself what was real and what wasn’t. “Is it true that wizards can heal anything?”

“Most things, but not all. We’re able to speed up, slow down, or reverse any natural process. Your wound healed just as it would have without our help, only faster. But we can’t do anything about this.” He touched the rip in Josiah’s sleeve, smoothing the edges together. “There’s no natural healing to accelerate.” He released it, and the fabric flapped open. “The Mother’s power is a great gift, but it has its limits.”

A million more questions crowded into Josiah’s mind. “What else can you do? Do all wizards have the same powers? What about your familiars, how does that work? How—”

Elkan held up his hand. “The Mother gives all wizards three powers. Healing, windows, and moving things—or stopping them from moving, as the case may be.” He grinned, and Josiah squirmed in embarrassment. “I’m afraid the rest of your questions will have to wait until later. We need to get going if we’re going to make it to your parents’ home before nightfall.”

Two

D
uring the walk downriver Elkan told Josiah a little about what to expect on their journey, and what his duties as a wizard’s assistant would be. They sounded simple enough. He’d be expected to take on as many of the ordinary tasks as possible, allowing the wizard to concentrate on serving those who needed his powers. Not the most exciting work, but hopefully watching the wizard in action and seeing new places would keep him from getting too bored. It would have to be better than the drudgery of the fulling mill, at least.

When they reached Korisan, Josiah led the wizard to Potter’s Way. Shops lined both sides of the cobblestone street. He pushed open the familiar door of one of the largest. Inside, gracefully shaped pots, bowls, cups, plates and vases filled rows of shelves and overflowed onto the floor. Their glazes glowed in the slanting light of the setting sun, a rainbow of warm blues, greens, golds, rusts, and bronzes.