The Fuller's Apprentice (The Chronicles of Tevenar Book 1) (42 page)

Josiah pushed his thoughts out of that track. It didn’t matter how old she was, or how much he felt like putting his arm around her and drawing her against his side. He was leaving tonight. The only paths that would lead them back together could hold nothing but heartbreak for Nirel. He thought of asking her to come with them, but that was hopeless. Her heart was completely with the bandits. She’d probably laugh at him and then tell her father and Ozor everything.

“Here, Josiah. Sorry I took so long, but Shonika grabbed the last piece and I had to wait for the next one to be done.” Gan extended a piece of chicken to him. Nirel moved back, opening up Gan’s place between them.

Gan plopped down, oblivious. “Better enjoy this while we have it. Once we’re on the road we’ll be stuck with travel rations.”

Josiah seized on this subject, glad of the distraction. “Where do you think we’ll go?”

Gan tilted his head thoughtfully. “Normally we’d head south to one of our winter camps, but I think Ozor might take us through the mountains instead. He’s been talking about it for years, and now we’ve got a farmer and a wizard, I bet he’ll decide it’s time to leave Tevenar for good.”

Josiah didn’t have to feign interest. “Across the mountains? Nobody’s ever gone there.”

“Sure they have. Lots of people go exploring, hunters and wanderers. Ozor’s sent out scouting parties. If we circle around Shalinthan and hit the Tarath, we can follow it up to a pass. If we make it across the mountains before the snow hits, nobody will be able to follow us until spring, not even wizards.”

Josiah realized that was true. Maybe his friends would escape, after all, and find a refuge far away from any need to steal or kill. Surely the Wizards’ Guild would let them go once they were no longer a threat to the people under its protection.

Talk turned to other matters. Josiah did his best to forget what the night would hold and enjoy the evening. It was easier once the instruments came out and the music started. He wasn’t nearly ready to leave when Elkan motioned him to follow.

“I’ve got to go. Good-night, Gan.”

“’Night.” Gan was watching an argument between Tereid and one of the others over which song would be played next. He chimed in, clamoring for his favorite. Josiah looked at him for a moment, but he couldn’t make any bigger fuss, not without Gan suspecting something.

“Good-night, Nirel.” She was staying out of the dispute, which had degenerated into a shouting match between the two factions.

“Good-night.” She shook her head in disgust. “Here, let me walk back to your tent with you.”

“Your father won’t mind?”

“He won’t notice.” Kabos had taken up the part of Tereid’s opponent. He and Tereid were shouting in each other’s faces. “They’ll keep fighting until Ozor breaks it up. Come on.”

She jumped up and led him after Elkan back toward their tent. He tried to think what to say, but couldn’t come up with anything.

He was so lost in thought she caught him completely by surprise. As Elkan disappeared inside the tent, she stopped, turned to him, and pulled his head down.

Her lips met his, warm and alive, and he put his arms around her as much by reflex as anything else. She felt good, not soft and curvy like Ledah, but lithe and vibrant. He quit thinking and lost himself in the sensation of her body against his.

She broke away. “There. He punished me for kissing you; now I’ve earned it.”

Josiah was glad it was too dark for her to see how red he knew he must be. “Nirel…”

“I wanted to see what it felt like to kiss you for real.” He opened his mouth, but she shushed him. “Good-night, Josiah. See you in the morning.” Before he could answer, she was gone.

He stared after her, hands clenched into fists, face burning. He wanted to run after her, but he couldn’t; her father would see. He wanted to confront Elkan and demand they stay, but he couldn’t ask that of the wizard, and Elkan would never agree, anyway. He wanted to slip away once they left and stay behind, but he didn’t want to join the bandits for real, certainly not without the incentive of wizardry to tempt him. And his feelings for Nirel were a confused jumble. Attraction, but also anger for the way she’d taken him so unprepared and not allowed him to respond. She thought they had all the time in the world.

Elkan looked at him when he finally ducked into the tent, but only said, “Get packing.” He knelt at Tobi’s side, Sar close beside him, and closed his eyes as golden light poured from his hand.

Josiah paused to scratch Tobi’s ears, then set to work. Their belongings were scattered between the two tents; he tried to make as few trips as possible, looking carefully each time to make sure no one was watching. The camp lay quiet and still. Apparently the argument had been settled by the gathering breaking up and everyone heading to bed.

Eventually everything was prepared. His pack and Elkan’s sat ready to be shouldered; Sar’s harness and load waited to be piled on the donkey’s back. Josiah sat cross legged, watching.

After an interminably long time, Tobi opened her eyes and lifted her head. She whined, twisting her head to look at Elkan and Sar and the golden glow surrounding her flanks.

“Quiet, girl.” Josiah put his arms around her neck. She licked him, and went back to watching. He followed her gaze.

Nothing outwardly had changed. Elkan held his hand over Tobi’s spine, just as he’d been doing for days. Perhaps he leaned a little closer, and his and Sar’s breaths came a little faster.

Tobi’s eyes widened and her muscles tensed. Her tail still lay limp on the ground, but the tip twitched.

Josiah grinned and hugged Tobi tight. Her tail twitched again, and once more, each movement larger and wilder than the last. She heaved herself to her feet, dragging Josiah along with her. Her hind legs were clumsy, but they moved, drawing up beneath her and bearing her weight.

Elkan scrambled to keep his balance and contact with Sar as Tobi lurched up. “Josiah, keep her still!” He lowered his voice. “Just a few minutes more.” He smiled through his weariness.

Josiah tightened his grip around Tobi’s neck, murmuring in her ear. She reluctantly consented to stand motionless while Elkan and Sar kept the golden light burning around her.

Finally the light died, and Elkan stepped back, shaking his hair back from his face. “How does that feel, Tobi? Josiah, let’s see how she walks.”

The space in the tent was far too small for Tobi to indulge the wild urge Josiah felt in her bunched muscles to spring up and race away, but she padded in a few tight circles and settled into a tense crouch by the tent flap, her tail lashing.

“Looks good.” Elkan nodded, pleased. “She should have full function. It would be best if she could take it easy for a few days, but I know that’s not going to happen. We’ve been slowing the atrophy of her muscles, so there should only be a little residual weakness. She’s fit to travel, but try and keep her from overdoing it.”

Josiah doubted he could do anything to restrain Tobi’s eagerness, but he nodded. “Everything’s ready.”

“Let’s get going, then.” Elkan went to harness Sar, and Josiah jumped to help. As soon as the donkey was loaded, they shouldered their packs. Elkan extinguished the small lamp, and they waited a moment while their eyes adjusted to the darkness.

A small window popped open over Elkan’s hand. They scanned the area. Little showed but the faint glow of the banked fire and the cold glitter of the stars. The moon was in its fourth quarter; it wouldn’t rise until close to dawn, and even then be only a thin crescent. Not the best time for a nighttime race through the forest, but the darkness would hamper any pursuers as well.

Josiah led the way, keeping a tight grip on the nape of Tobi’s neck. The mountain cat crept beside him with all her predator’s stealth. Elkan and Sar followed, the donkey stepping so daintily his hooves barely rustled the thick carpet of fallen leaves.

Josiah headed past the privy trench, toward the edge of camp. But before he went more than a dozen steps, a shape loomed before him.

“Sto—” Josiah barely had time to recognize Tereid’s threatening voice and see his knife raised to strike before a flicker of light darted past and struck the bandit in the chest. Tereid slumped to the ground.

“Quick, tie him up.” Elkan’s voice was strained. “There’s no way to keep him unconscious for very long after we’re gone without injuring him. Gag him, too.”

Josiah wished Elkan could be less ethical. Would it really be so bad if Tereid were harmed a little? But binding him would be just as effective. He darted back to the tent and hunted among the stores for rope. When he returned, Elkan had propped Tereid’s limp form against a tree. Josiah bound Tereid as tight as he could, but was glad when the gold light extended around the knots and gave them an extra tug. No human fingers would undo those knots now.

Elkan and Sar kept the golden light damped down to its minimum, but to Josiah it still shone like a beacon. In his haste he fumbled and had to redo the gag in Tereid’s mouth. Finally he finished, and nodded to Elkan.

The light glowed briefly about Tereid’s head. “Good, he can breathe. No one should find him until morning. Come.”

As the light died, Tereid stirred groggily. Josiah headed for the cover of the forest. Tobi plunged into the thick growth, and he followed her blindly. Elkan and Sar pressed close at his heels.

Josiah was covered with scratches and welts from uncooperative branches by the time they cut back to the road. After that, they made much faster progress. Josiah allowed Tobi to go off on her own, and she bounded enthusiastically away. But she returned much sooner than was her custom and paced at Josiah’s side. He could tell she was tired, but she was so happy to be able to move again she made no complaint.

They kept going until dawn, with only the briefest stops to drink at a stream or take care of necessities. When they could see each other’s faces in the soft grey light of approaching sunrise, Elkan called a break. He settled his hand on Sar’s back and a window opened above his palm. Scanning as far as they could revealed nothing but empty woods and bare road behind them.

“Good. They’re not following, at least not closely. But they’ll discover we’re gone soon if they haven’t already. I’m guessing they won’t risk coming after us, not this close to Remethera. But I might be wrong. We can’t let down our guard.”

Josiah nodded blearily from where he’d sunk to the ground and propped his head in his hands. He scrubbed his eyes and struggled to his feet again. Elkan smiled ruefully at him, scarcely less worn. “Just a few more hours. Here, we can eat while we walk.” He passed Josiah a strip of jerky and an apple.

Tobi went off, and reappeared later licking blood from her muzzle. Josiah was glad she’d been able to provide for herself. How much farther could it be to Remethera, anyway? They’d already covered more miles than they sometimes traveled in a whole day.

The sun had passed its zenith when they rounded the last shoulder of mountain and caught a glimpse of Remethera’s rooftops in the valley. Josiah was almost too tired to care. The road made many long switchbacks down the mountain, turning what had seemed a final short stretch into an interminable trek, but at last, late in the afternoon, they arrived.

The usual flurry of villagers emerged to greet them. Among them Josiah was enormously relieved to see one cloaked in familiar brown plaid.

“Elkan! Welcome!” The young man beamed at them, his round face shining with pleasure. The tall rangy hound at his side exchanged polite sniffs with Sar, and more wary but equally polite sniffs with Tobi.

Elkan clasped his hand. “Hello, Savir. Master Dabiel got my message?”

“She certainly did. She didn’t waste any time putting a group of us together. I got the impression you were pretty emphatic about the need to deal with these bandits of yours.”

Elkan ran a hand through his hair. “Who else is with you? How many did she send?”

“Nachra and Sethi, and Vethon and Cloud, and we’re waiting for Gaela and Muffin to come up from Thedan.”

“Only four pairs.” Elkan sighed. “It will have to be enough, I guess.”

Savir looked closely at Elkan for the first time. “You’re exhausted. Did you run into a difficult healing?

Elkan shook his head. “The bandits have been holding us captive for more than a week. We escaped last night.”

Savir’s mouth fell open, and his eyes grew round. “Dear Mother! What happened?”

Elkan recounted their adventure as Savir led them to the Mother’s Hall and helped them settle in. He had to repeat much of it for Nachra, a tall slender woman with long black hair who carried a jewel-colored snake coiled around her wrist, and again when Vethon, a lean, graying older man, arrived, a grey dove swooping in beside him.

Over the generous supper provided by their hosts in the village, Elkan and Josiah filled the other wizards in on the details of Ozor’s followers: numbers, abilities, personalities, weapons. Plans were set. Once the fourth wizard arrived, Elkan would lead them to the place where the bandits had camped. The wizards and the troop of watchers who accompanied them would pick up the trail.

To Josiah’s relief, Elkan demurred when the others asked him to come along. The rest of his circuit was still waiting; their capture had already delayed them. They’d be able to make up some time, since the other wizards had dealt with Remethera’s needs. But they could only afford a few days of rest if they wished to stay on schedule and make it back to Elathir by Springtide.

“Oh, come on.” Savir urged. “It’s only been a couple months since Hadara went through. Nobody will miss you if you take a few shortcuts.”

“No.” Josiah wondered why Elkan’s face had taken on that closed look again. “The bandits are your assignment. The circuit is mine.”

None of their arguments could sway him. Josiah was glad. He knew the bandits had to be captured, but he didn’t want to be there when Gan and Nirel were taken prisoner. Abandoning them and setting the other wizards on their trail already felt like the worst sort of betrayal.

Twenty-Three

E
lkan huddled by the fire, picking at his porridge. Water dripped from the hood of his cloak into the bowl, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Josiah…”