The Fuller's Apprentice (The Chronicles of Tevenar Book 1) (22 page)

Josiah swallowed a bite of suddenly leaden porridge. “Kabos? He’s gone?”

Elkan nodded grimly. “We opened a window and tracked them as they fled, but they were already too far away for us to catch, and they quickly moved out of range. Sar and I can follow their trail, if you plan to pursue them.”

Admon shook his head wearily. “They have hiding places all through these mountains. They’ve troubled us for a few years now, but they never dared hit the town before. I’ll order the Watch to set a patrol in case they try to come back, but I doubt we’ll see them again. They got what they came for.”

It didn’t make sense. “Kabos can’t be one of the bandits. Why would they come after him? And what about Nirel, and Sathea and the others? Are they all right?”

Elkan put a reassuring hand on Josiah’s shoulder. “Jonina’s been hosting them at her home. The bandits didn’t come anywhere close to it. We’re going over there as soon as we’ve eaten to see if Sathea knows anything.”

Josiah resolved to do whatever it took to accompany them, even if he had to sneak out, but Elkan gave his permission when he asked to come along. He followed Elkan, Sar, Admon, and several watchers across the river to the far side of town.

Jonina admitted them. Sathea was bustling around the long table by the fireplace, clearing away the breakfast dishes. She shooed away Yarin, who clung to her legs, staring distrustfully at the newcomers. Sathea regarded Elkan and Admon with nearly the same expression. She retreated to a chair next to the cradle where Ilana lay sleeping and picked up long slender needles. Her fingers began forming stitches with quick, nervous movements. “You’ll forgive me. But I must provide for my family now. I hope whatever you want can be accomplished while I work.”

“Of course.” Admon took a seat in the chair Jonina indicated, and Elkan drew up a stool beside them. Sar stepped carefully to an unobtrusive post by Elkan’s side. Josiah sidled up next to him and leaned against the wall.

Yarin tried to climb into Sathea’s lap. She pushed him away before he could become tangled in her yarn. “Go find Nirel. She’s in the other room. Go!”

Yarin’s face crumpled into a wail.

“Now!” Sathea glowered and pointed to the door. Still crying, Yarin went, pausing often to look back. But Sathea remained relentless. When he reached the door he stopped again. Sathea made as if to rise, starting to lay down her knitting. “Go on!”

Yarin complied, and Sathea sank back into her chair. “Stay in there until I say you can come out!” She rubbed the back of her neck, wearily picked up her needles, and started forming stitches with angry stabs.

After an uncomfortable moment, Elkan leaned over the cradle to peer at Ilana’s face. “How is she doing? Has everything gone well since the healing?”

“Yes, yes, just fine. At first she would wrinkle her face and rub her mouth and cry. I guess it felt strange to her. But she’s gotten used to it now.” Sathea’s fingers faltered momentarily, then resumed their rapid knitting. “I have to admit, sometimes I miss the way she used to look. It’s like she’s a different child. It’s wrong, I know; she’s so much healthier now…”

“It’s natural to feel that way,” Elkan assured her. “You loved her the way she was, and now she’s changed; of course you have mixed feelings.” He hesitated. “Even when a change is for the better, you grieve for what you’ve lost.”

Sathea looked at him bleakly, aware of the double meaning in his words. “True.” She bent intently again over her knitting.

Admon leaned forward. “Sathea, I know this will be difficult for you, but you must tell us anything you know. Have you heard what happened during the night?”

Sathea was silent. Jonina nodded. “The news was everywhere as soon as the sun rose.”

“Then you must have heard that the bandits appear to have come with the express purpose of freeing Kabos. Did he have any contact with them before now?”

For a long time Sathea didn’t answer. She focused on correcting an error in her work. But as the silence lengthened and everyone continued to watch her, her hands gradually stilled. Slowly, reluctantly, she nodded. When she spoke, her voice was low and husky. “It started about three years ago. They came by every few months. We’d sell them grain and milk and meat. They’d pay me to knit masks for them. Kabos would let them camp in the upper fields.”

Elkan spoke quietly. “Do you know their names and faces?”

Sathea bit her lip. “I only ever saw a few of them—Kabos didn’t like them coming around me and the children. But once he introduced me to their leader, Ozor. Short man, round face, pointed beard. Kabos used to go off with him for days at a time. He’s the closest thing Kabos has to a friend, I think.”

“That explains why they came for him.” Admon leaned forward. “Do you know where they might be headed?”

“No. They never told me anything.”

Across the room, Josiah noticed the door to the bedroom swing open a crack. Yarin appeared, face red and tearstained. He crept toward Sathea, his need for her comfort warring with his fear of her anger. Josiah slipped as unobtrusively as he could to intercept him.

He reached Yarin and held out his arms. Yarin eyed him with distrust but allowed Josiah to scoop him up. He hiccuped and buried his face in Josiah’s shoulder.

Sathea spotted them. “Yarin! I told you to stay with Nirel. Why’d she let you come out?”

Yarin twisted in Josiah’s arms, reaching for his mother. “I couldn’t find her!” he wailed.

Frowning, Sathea put her work aside and rose, accepting Yarin from Josiah. “Nirel!” she called. She pushed the bedroom door open and peered around inside. “Nirel?” She backed out, worry undercutting her annoyance. “She’s not in there.” She turned to Jonina. “When did you last see her?”

“At breakfast. I think she might have gone out to the privy afterwards, but I’m not sure.”

Sathea’s face paled. “He can’t have come for her, can he? He wouldn’t dare.”

Elkan laid a hand on Sathea’s arm. “Let us help.” Reaching for Sar, he produced a sparkling golden sphere over his palm with a quick gesture.

The room they stood in appeared within. Nirel sat at the breakfast table, white-faced and silent, shoveling porridge into her mouth. Sathea nodded. “She was so upset when we heard the news, but then she got… strange. Quiet.”

Elkan nodded and focused on the window. Time slipped past quickly, then slowed to normal speed. Nirel waved casually as she headed out the door. “I’m going to the privy, Mother.”

Jonina leaned in close. “What’s that she’s carrying?”

The window zoomed in to focus on Nirel’s hand, tucked behind her back. A leather sack dangled from it.

Sathea sank back, eyes wide. “Oh, dear Mother. She’s run off to join him.”

Jonina moved to Sathea’s side and put an arm around her shoulders. Sathea clutched Yarin tight and stared at the window.

The view followed Nirel out the door and down the street to the public privies, hovering outside as she made a brief stop within. When she emerged, she glanced furtively both ways down the quiet street. Then, slinging her pack onto her back, she strode in the opposite direction from Jonina’s home. Her progress was quick. When she reached the jail she paused for a quick look, then chose the street that led toward the mountains to the north. She didn’t stop or look back when she left the town, passing the last outlying buildings with quick steps. The image started to fade and grow fuzzy as she reached the limits of the Mother’s power. Elkan breathed heavily, and Sar’s sides heaved. Just before the window dissolved into a wash of golden sparkles, Josiah saw Nirel turn from the main road onto a side path.

Wiping sweat from his brow, Elkan patted Sar. “Did you see that last?”

Admon nodded. “I know the place.” Going to the door, he spoke to the watchers who remained outside. One set off in haste.

“Give Sar and me a moment to recover, and we’ll come along. We should be able to find her quickly enough.”

Sathea was pale, but grim. “I want to come with you.”

Admon laid a hand on her shoulder. “I think you should stay here with your other children. They need you. I promise, we’ll find her and bring her back as quickly as we can.” He didn’t say that she’d only get in the way, but Josiah guessed that was what he meant.

He figured his own best bet to be included in the search was to be quiet and follow along. He slipped out the door after Sar and trotted behind the donkey as Admon led the way toward the jail. Elkan glanced at him, but didn’t say anything.

They had only traveled a few dozen yards from Jonina’s door when a voice hailed them. “Elkan!’

Meira hurried to meet them. Ravid was in his usual place on her back. “They told me you were coming here. What happened? I heard bandits attacked the town last night. Do you think they’re the same…”

Elkan hesitated. “Go on,” he told Admon. “I know the way. We’ll catch up.” He turned to Meira. “They were wearing masks, so I couldn’t be sure, but I think they must be the same ones. Will you look and tell me what you think?”

Meira’s face blanched, but she set her lips into a hard line and nodded. Elkan ran a hand through his hair, took a deep breath, and reached for Sar. A window blossomed over his open palm. Dark-clad shapes darted from the shadows into the pool of light cast by a single lantern by the door of the jail. They wore the same sort of knitted masks as those who’d raided the abandoned farmhouse. One called, “Douse the light!” Another stepped over a slumped form with arrows protruding from its back and lifted his mask momentarily to blow out the flame.

“I recognize him,” Meira said, her voice strained. “Not their leader, but the other one. With the long knife, who stabbed—”

“That’s what I thought, too. What about the one who spoke?”

“That was the leader, I think. Let me hear him again?”

The window blurred momentarily, then replayed the scene. Meira nodded. “Yes, that was him. The one with the pointed beard.”

“Ozor, Sathea said his name is. Apparently Kabos is his friend.” Elkan dismissed the window and turned to Josiah. “Josiah, stay with Meira. Do whatever she tells you. Take her to Jonina’s house; you can wait for us there. We’ll bring Nirel as soon as we find her.”

Josiah was about to protest, but a sharp look from Elkan reminded him of his promise. He bit back his objection, and instead bowed his head. “Yes, sir.”

Elkan flashed him a quick grin, amused and sympathetic, but unyielding. “Don’t worry. Nirel will be fine. Come, Sar.” Wizard and familiar hurried away.

Josiah bit his lip and clenched his fists as he watched them go. Mustering a false smile, he turned to Meira. “Here, let me show you to Master Jonina’s.”

Meira inclined her head. “Lead on.”

He took her to Jonina’s house and introduced her to the knitter. Meira went to Sathea and embraced her, murmuring in sympathy. The two women settled by the fire, nursing their babies and speaking quietly.

Josiah paced the room, stopping often to gaze out the window. It would be many hours before the others returned, even if they found Nirel quickly and without incident, yet still he felt compelled to watch for them.

Meira looked up at him occasionally. After a while, she called him over.

“What do you need?” He tried his best to sound helpful and obedient, but was afraid resentment crept into his voice.

Meira grinned at him. “Elkan told you to do whatever I said, correct?”

He grimaced. “Yes.”

“Well, Josiah, I’m settled just fine here, but there’s one thing you could do for me that would be a big help.”

Josiah frowned at her, puzzled by her amused look and the conspiratorial tone of her voice.

“Poor Thistle has been cooped up in a stall ever since we’ve been in Tathorlith. She’s boarding at a public stable near the Miners’ Guildhall where I’ve been staying. It’s a lovely morning. I think she’d enjoy a little exercise, maybe a nice walk out in the fields. You could ride her for a bit if you’d like. I hear there’s some good grazing to the north, toward the mountains. Could you take care of that for me?”

He stared at her, unsure if she really meant what she seemed to be saying, but her nod confirmed it. He grinned. “Yes, ma’am!”

“Wait,” she called, as he bolted for the door. “Don’t you want directions to the stable before you rush off?”

Josiah forced himself to listen despite his impatience. When she was satisfied he’d be able to find it, she dismissed him with a wave.

Josiah raced through the streets. A few words with the journeyman herder in charge of the stable saw Thistle bridled and handed over to him. The donkey was indeed restless, eager to be away and disinclined to cooperate. He wrestled with her a few minutes, cursing the time wasted, before he was able to clamber onto her back and guide her to the north road.

Thistle balked and shied at every shadow on the way through town, but once past the last straggling buildings she settled. She turned her head as they passed open green meadows, but Josiah held her to a steady trot along the road he’d seen in the window. He didn’t really hope to catch up with the searchers. They had a generous head start. And he didn’t think he could do more to find Nirel than they could; Elkan’s ability to see into the past would lead them straight to her. But anything was better than waiting back in the town, unable to help or even know what was going on.

He located the side path where Nirel had turned. It led steeply up the mountainside, winding through thick forest and around rocky outcroppings. He was forced to let Thistle slow to a walk. He saw evidence of the search party’s passage—footprints and hoofprints in the dust, broken branches, piles of horse dung.

The woods were quiet except for an occasional birdcall. Thistle tired. Josiah slid off and walked beside her, listening. They went higher and higher up the mountain.

After a long time, Josiah heard voices ahead of him, and the thud of hooves. He hung back, reluctant to join the searchers. He might have followed the letter of Elkan’s instructions, but he’d thoroughly violated the spirit. He didn’t want to face Elkan’s anger, so he followed just within earshot.

The searchers must not have found Nirel yet, for they kept a steady pace. Thistle plodded along the path, tired enough to be obedient and quiet. After nearly an hour, they came to a fork in the path. One branch led further up the mountain, and the other wound down into a valley. The searchers’ tracks led up; the window must have shown Nirel going that way. Josiah led Thistle up the path after them.