The Fuller's Apprentice (The Chronicles of Tevenar Book 1) (3 page)

From the rear of the shop came the whirr of a potter’s wheel. A woman’s voice called, “I’ll be right with you. Look around if you like.”

“Don’t get up, Mother.” Josiah bit his lip. “It’s just me.”

His mother’s voice was startled. “Josiah? What are you doing here? Is something the matter?”

Josiah was spared the need to answer for the moment, as a whirlwind with hands covered in wet clay seized him about the waist. “Josiah!”

He hugged his six-year-old sister. “Hey, Adina. Does mother know you’ve been playing in her clay?”

She grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the back of the shop. “She’s teaching me to throw pots,” she boasted. “Come look what I made.”

He exclaimed with proper enthusiasm over the lopsided lump of clay in the middle of the wheel. His mother turned from the basin, wiping her hands on a towel, a worried frown on her face. “I didn’t expect to see you until Restday.”

Adina seated herself on the bench of the potter’s wheel. Her short legs swung ineffectually. “Mama, come kick the wheel for me.”

“In a moment, Adina. I need to speak with Josiah right now. You can practice your pinch pot technique for a few minutes.”

Adina pouted, but slid down from the wheel and grabbed a new wad of clay from the bins that lined the wall. Soon she was absorbed in shaping it.

Josiah’s mother turned back to him. “Well?”

Josiah found himself at a loss for words. “Um, Mother, there was a little, ah, problem at the mill today, and Master Sef…”

“Master Sef has kindly agreed to loan Josiah to me for the next year.” Elkan stepped up beside Josiah. “Subject to your approval of course, Master…?”

Josiah’s mother wiped her hands on her apron, smearing them with clay from the splatters that covered it. “Jensine, Master Wizard. Jensine Bakerkin Potter.”

“And I’m Journeyman Elkan Farmerkin Wizard. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Master Jensine.”

“Josiah’s not in any trouble, is he? I know there’s been a few times when he’s been distracted from his work, but he promised not to let it happen again.”

“No, no, he’s not in trouble.” Elkan glanced at Josiah and raised an eyebrow. Josiah closed his mouth. He wasn’t about to tell his mother what had happened if Elkan was willing to cover for him. “There was a small incident that convinced Master Sef the fulling mill isn’t the best place for Josiah right now. I happened to be there, and since I’ve been looking to take on a companion to share my journey, I offered to buy a year of his apprentice contract. I’ll be traveling around the outskirts of Tevenar, bringing the Mother’s power to those who have no resident wizards of their own. If you and his father approve, Josiah will be coming with me.”

“Of course.” Jensine glowered at Josiah, and he looked at the floor. He knew his mother suspected there was more to the tale than the wizard had revealed. But he also knew she wouldn’t question any further. Not in Elkan’s presence, at least. “I’m sure my husband will agree that this is a wonderful opportunity for Josiah. If you’re certain he’ll suit your needs. I expect Master Sef told you he can be a bit of a dreamer—”

“Mother!”

“I’m not telling him anything he won’t find out for himself. Wizard Elkan, Josiah is a good boy, very quick witted and clever, but he has a lot to learn about hard work and discipline.”

“Yes, I’ve already been made aware of Josiah’s particular talents and weaknesses. I’m sure he’ll suit my purposes admirably.”

A young woman poked her head through the door at the back of the shop. “Mother, supper is almost—Oh, you’re with a customer. I’ll keep it warm for you. Adina, come with me, I’ll get you cleaned up.” She went to pull the younger girl away from her clay. “Josiah? What are you doing here?”

Josiah waved at his older sister. “I’ll tell you about it later.”

Jensine turned to Elkan. “Do stay for supper, Wizard Elkan. There’s plenty to go around. Benta, set an extra place for our guest.”

Elkan hesitated. “I wouldn’t want to cause you any trouble…”

“It’s no trouble,” Jensine assured him. “We’re honored to—Oh!”

Josiah looked to see what had caused such a look of consternation on his mother’s face. Sar clopped up beside Elkan and surveyed the workspace at the back of the shop. Josiah stifled a laugh at the way his mother’s eyes flew to the rows of shelves filled with many hours’ worth of hard labor. The donkey’s tail twitched, and Jensine flinched.

“This is my familiar, Sardonyx.” Elkan scratched the donkey between the ears. “I understand if you don’t have accommodations for a donkey. We’ll be happy to return to the Mother’s Hall for the evening meal; they’re expecting us.”

“Oh, no.” Jensine rallied. “There’s space for him out in the kiln yard, if that’s suitable. I’ll have Namir fetch some hay from the livery stable, or oats if he’d prefer.”

Sardonyx’s ears swiveled forward. Elkan patted him. “Hay will be fine.” The donkey laid his ears back and glared at the wizard. “Have you forgotten how much energy it took to heal your colic the last time you ate oats?” The donkey huffed and looked away with an air of feigned indifference.

“Just hay,” Elkan repeated. “And if word could be sent to the Mother’s Hall, to notify them of my absence…”

Jensine nodded. “Eban can run over there with a message. Come, make yourself at home. Josiah, get the donkey settled out back.”

She gestured for them to precede her. Josiah followed Elkan and Sardonyx through the rear door of the shop and into the living quarters.

Benta was lighting the lamps, their yellow flames adding to the warm glow of the fireplace. Adina was at the long table laying out the best plates, fine examples of their parents’ craft which were usually reserved for holidays. Josiah guessed the everyday plates—mismatched odds and ends of sets, lopsided beginner’s work, and pieces that had come slightly cracked from the kiln—had been whisked away.

Jensine bustled past them. She stirred the soup simmering in the large iron cauldron over the fire. Benta finished lighting the row of candles down the middle of the table, opened the door of the arched brick oven in the side of the fireplace, and drew out loaves of freshly baked bread. The yeasty smell made Josiah aware of just how hungry he was, and he hurried to lead Elkan and Sar toward the far door.

Adina squealed in delight at seeing a donkey making its way through the house, and abandoned a stack of dishes to run up to them, wide-eyed. “May I pet him?”

“Certainly.” Elkan stroked the donkey’s neck, and Adina followed suit. Sardonyx tolerated her attentions with an air of long-suffering patience.

Two-year-old Tirza approached, fascinated, but hung back in apprehension, fingers stuffed in her mouth. Josiah knelt and held out his arms to her. “Look, Tirza, he won’t hurt you. He’s a nice donkey.”

“Nice donkey,” she repeated dubiously, but let Josiah take her chubby hand and stroke it against the muzzle Sardonyx lowered toward her. “Soft.” She giggled, but when Sardonyx blew out his breath gently, she pulled back and hid her head against Josiah’s chest.

Jensine scooped Tirza from Josiah’s arms. “Your father should be done loading the kiln now. Go and tell him about our guests. And send Eban and Namir off, or it will be midnight before we can eat.”

Josiah nodded and ushered Elkan and Sar out the door, the donkey’s hooves clopping hollowly on the wooden floor.

The yard was nearly dark, the first stars peeking out overhead. The domed shape of the new kiln loomed before them, set back far enough from the main building to protect it should the fire within escape its thick earthen walls.

A tall, stout man emerged from the doorway of the kiln. “Father, we have a guest,” Josiah called. He turned to Elkan. “This is my father, Master Hyam Potterkin Potter. Father, this is Journeyman Elkan Farmerkin Wizard. He bought a year of my apprenticeship contract from Master Sef. I’m going to travel with him all around Tevenar.”

“I’m very pleased to meet you, Wizard Elkan.” He shot a quizzical look at Josiah. “Although I’m eager to hear what’s led to this new arrangement.”

Josiah left Elkan to explain to his father, for he spotted his brothers coming out of the kiln behind Hyam. “Namir, Eban, Mother has errands for you.”

Namir, fifteen and a year his elder, scowled at him. “Did they finally kick you out of the mill?”

“No.” Josiah scowled back. “I’m going to be traveling with a wizard. Way better than the mill.” He gestured to the donkey. “Mother wants you to run down to the livery stable and bring back some hay for the wizard’s donkey. It’s his familiar, so you better make sure it’s good.”

“What did you do this time, burn the whole mill down? You must have really messed up to get stuck with a donkey for a master.” Namir made a face at him and headed down the alley that led to the street.

Josiah glowered after Namir, trying to think of a retort to hurl after him. Before he could, ten-year-old Eban tugged at Josiah’s sleeve. “A wizard, Josiah? Where are you going?”

Josiah grinned at Eban. “All over Tevenar,” he boasted. “Up into the mountains, and down south, and even to Elathir.”

“You’re so lucky.” Eban regarded his older brother with envy.

“Mother wants you to run over to the Mother’s Hall. Tell them Wizard Elkan is eating supper with us, so not to expect him until later.”

“All right.” Eban dashed away.

His father and Elkan were deep in conversation across the donkey’s back, so Josiah headed for the rectangle of warm light streaming from the doorway. As soon as he crossed the threshold, his mother spotted him and called, “Josiah, we’re going to need more water.”

“Yes, Mother.” Josiah picked up the buckets from their place by the door, and went out through the shop into the dark street.

As he made his way to the public fountain where Potter’s Way met Cobbler’s Street, Josiah welcomed a few quiet minutes alone to think. Everything had happened so quickly. The reality of his change of fortune was only now sinking in.

When he’d first begun to consider what trade he might choose to enter, there had been so many fascinating possibilities. From a very young age he’d sat in his mother’s or father’s lap at the wheel and shaped the clay, just as Adina had been doing today, but the familiar processes of the potter’s craft held no attraction for him. Besides, with both Benta and Namir apprenticed to their parents, the shop had no need of further workers. He was far more inclined to follow their eldest brother Yered’s example and apprentice to a trade outside the family. Yered had traveled all the way to Elathir to learn the craft of shipbuilding.

During the year before their apprenticing, all the young men and women of Tevenar were expected to explore the possibilities of the different crafts. Josiah and his friends had loved venturing from shop to shop. The masters had welcomed them, showed them around, and let them set their hands to various tasks. Josiah kneaded dough and feasted on sweet cakes with the bakers, cut and shaped soft leather with the cobblers, and sewed with the tailors. Groups of youngsters ventured to the edge of town to observe the tanners, coopers, and smiths at work, and into the surrounding countryside to learn about the herders and farmers. Just when Josiah thought he had identified a craft he could dedicate his life to, another would come along he liked even better. In his daydreams he became a master weaver, creating beautiful tapestries, a master stonemason, erecting grand buildings, even a sailor or fisher, venturing from the docks at Elathir into the vastness of the ocean.

But the day his group of friends traveled upriver was the day he found his calling. The great turning water wheels, rumbling with the power that drove the machinery within, fascinated him. The tangled mazes of shafts and gears and belts tantalized him with their secrets. The grinding stones of the grist mill and whirling blades of the saw mill drew his interest, but it was the deafening racket and huge swinging stocks of the fulling mill that had captured his heart. After that, there had never been any real question which apprenticeships he would apply for. When the lists of assignments were posted, he’d been delighted to learn he’d been accepted by his first choice.

He began his work at the fulling mill with enthusiasm, and for a while it was everything he had dreamed it would be. He threw all his energy into learning the intricacies of the craft. Master Sef was stern, but fair, and his measured praise was often bestowed on Josiah.

It had been difficult to adjust to the long weeks away from home between Restday visits. He missed his old friends, and as the only first-year apprentice at the mill, had no opportunity to make new ones. First-years were traditionally given the most trivial and boring duties and were shunned by the older apprentices.

As long as his mind and hands were occupied learning new tasks, none of this bothered him very much. But as summer passed into autumn and winter set in, he began to realize that the work itself was not that interesting. He had no problem understanding the different parts of the mill and how they worked together. He knew the purpose of each stage of the fulling process, from the newly woven bolts of cloth that arrived, fresh off the weaver’s looms, through scouring, fulling and tenting, teasing and shearing, to the high quality fabric that left, ready for the tailors. He was not skilled in all the processes yet, but there would be no new discoveries, only long painstaking practice. The fuller’s craft was highly honed and regimented, an efficient process that left no room for creativity or innovation.

Try as he might to do his duty and focus on his work, his mind began to wander. At first there was only an occasional sharp word from Master Sef, calling his attention back when his eyes strayed to the window. Eventually, though, as he chafed more and more at the lack of challenge, Josiah gained the reputation of a dreamer and idler. He began to realize what a terrible mistake he had made.

Seven full years of apprenticeship awaited him, and seven after that as a journeyman, before maybe, as a master in charge of his own mill, he would be able to make changes and experiment with new and better ways of doing things. He couldn’t face that.

Finally he decided to request a transfer to another guild. It was a daunting prospect, but better than what awaited him at the fulling mill, he was sure. But he had no idea which new craft to pick, since he’d been so certain about his first choice, and it had proven so disastrously wrong.