The Fuller's Apprentice (The Chronicles of Tevenar Book 1) (8 page)

“You’ve been a great help this week, Elkan. We’re sorry to see you go. What are your plans from here on out?”

Elkan unrolled a map and spread it on the table. “We’ll be taking the northeast road to Darilla. It should take us about five days to get there, unless we need to deal with anything major along the way. This will be the first time they’ve had a wizard come through since Eisig and Diamond made the circuit last year, so we’ll probably need to spend a few days there. Then we’ll travel through the mountains, hitting all the little villages and settlements as we make our way west. That should take most of the summer. Sometime near fall we’ll reach Shalinthan. We’ll spend the winter working our way around to the south, and arrive home in Elathir in early spring.”

“In time for you to celebrate your mastery ceremony at Springtide.”

“As long as nothing unexpected delays us.”

“Watch out for those bandits we keep hearing about. They sound like a ruthless bunch.”

“We’ll try. But the Guildmaster asked me to determine whether they’re a serious enough threat to warrant a joint effort with the Watchers’ Guild.”

“I’m glad she’s considering it. From what I’ve heard, that’s what it will take to stop them.” He pointed at Elkan. “A single wizard and familiar certainly can’t.”

“Don’t worry; I’m not that foolish. I’ll stay well away from them. Windows will provide all the evidence the Guildmaster needs.”

Josiah had wondered how Elkan planned to learn more about the bandits than had already been reported. Now that he’d seen how the wizard could use the Mother’s power to look into the past, he understood.

“Still, be careful.”

“We will.” Elkan rolled up the map and tucked it away.

They bid farewell to Tivon and left the Mother’s Hall before the sun peeked over the horizon. Only a few people were in the streets, so they passed quickly through the town. As the sun rose, they struck out on a small road that led through the farming country to the northeast.

The weather was fine, with a nip of cold in the air that made it a pleasure to warm themselves with the exertion of walking. The clear blue sky held only a few wisps of white brushed against the sky. They exchanged hails with farmers driving wagons into town for the Firstday market. In the fields, horses and oxen pulled plows and farmers scattered handfuls of seed. Cattle and goats grazed in pastures, and they passed a shepherd driving his flock along the road.

Josiah thoroughly enjoyed the morning. He chatted with Elkan about everything they saw. But by the time the sun was high overhead he was getting tired, so he was glad when Elkan called a halt.

After much too short a break they resumed trudging along the road. The day grew warmer and the sun beat down, still only a hint of the baking heat of summer to come, but enough to make Josiah sweat. Elkan was content to walk in silence. Sardonyx plodded along uncomplaining, his tail occasionally swishing to brush away a fly.

Farms grew farther apart as the day advanced, with more stretches of wild meadow and stands of trees. Late in the afternoon they came to land more rolling than the flat lands near the river. The cool breeze from the forest as they reached the bottom of a little valley was a wonderful relief to Josiah. He threw himself down to drink from the trickle of water that flowed in a shallow ford across the rocks of the road.

He’d done his best through the day not to complain or question, but now he had to ask. “How much longer will we be walking today?” The sun was sinking, but it was still several hours yet before it would reach the horizon, and Josiah was certain Elkan wouldn’t want to waste any daylight.

His fears were confirmed. “I planned to keep going until near sunset and find a farm to offer us hospitality for the night. We should take advantage of that while we can; tomorrow we’ll probably have to camp. But if you’re too tired, we can look for a place to stop earlier.”

Josiah forced himself to stand up straight, though his pack cut into his shoulders and he was sure a blister was forming on one foot. “I can go on.”

Elkan nodded, and they set out again. “It gets easier,” he reassured Josiah. “Within a few days your body will adjust. Tomorrow and the next day will probably be the worst, then it will start to improve.”

Tomorrow would be worse? Josiah tried hard not to let his dismay show on his face.

He must not have done a very good job, because Elkan laughed. “You’re doing well, Josiah. We’ve made good time today. By the time we get to Darilla, you’ll be a seasoned traveler.”

The sun was nearly down when Elkan finally stopped at a farm. Josiah’s feet burned and his back ached. He slid his pack from his shoulders with a groan as Elkan spoke with the woman who opened the door. She showed them to seats by the fire while she hastened to add portions to the food she was preparing for her family.

Josiah ate ravenously. It would have been considered an insult to offer payment, but Elkan healed a few scrapes and bruises and spoke a blessing over the farm’s fields and animals. He had Josiah take off his boots, and warm golden radiance soothed away his blisters. The little farmhouse had no spare rooms, but there was a straw pallet for Josiah and Elkan to share, spread in front of the fireplace. It was much harder than the beds Josiah was used to, but he was so tired he didn’t care. He was asleep within moments of closing his eyes.

He awoke, stiff and sore, shortly before sunrise. Their hostess fed them a breakfast of fresh eggs and fried ham, and they were out on the road as the sun crept into the sky.

The country they passed through was wilder than the day before. The farms were scattered much farther apart. Instead of large market farms, these were small holdings which provided only what their inhabitants needed. The people here were mostly self-sufficient, making the long journey to town no more than three or four times per year.

The going was hard for Josiah from the start, but at least his feet felt fine, and the walking helped work out the stiffness in his back and legs. His pack felt twice as heavy as the day before.

His discomfort was balanced by fascination with the world around him. This was farther than he’d ever been from home before, and the landscape was different from anything he knew. In the afternoon they entered a large forest. The road dwindled to a narrow trail, marked by blazes cut into trees or arrows carved on rocks. Pine needles were thick underfoot, the air was cool, and the light was filtered and green, dim except where beams of gold slanted through openings in the branches.

Toward evening, grey clouds blew in, obscuring the sky. The air grew colder.

“Do you think it will rain?” Josiah wondered.

Elkan glanced at Sardonyx. The donkey stopped walking, raised his head, and sniffed the air, his ears twitching. He cocked his head to the side. Then he snorted, flicked his tail, and resumed plodding onward.

“Sar thinks it will start raining after sundown,” Elkan said. “We should keep an eye out for a place to take shelter.”

“Is that another one of the Mother’s powers?” Josiah stared at the donkey. It was becoming clear Sar was far from the ordinary beast he outwardly seemed.

“Not really, just his natural senses. Though he’s more able to understand what his senses tell him than an ordinary animal.”

“So familiars are smarter than regular animals? Is that why they can help you? Where do your familiars come from, anyway? Do you breed them?” Josiah stopped. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to ask about things that might be guild secrets.”

“No, it’s all right. The Wizards’ Guild only has one secret, and if you stray too far in that direction, I’ll let you know. To answer your questions: Yes, Mother-touched animals are much more intelligent than common animals. They’re at least as smart as humans, although it’s hard to tell because they remain animals, with cares and concerns very different than ours. We don’t breed them; the Mother’s touch isn’t inherited. Their offspring are usually ordinary animals, whether they breed with others who are Mother-touched or not. That doesn’t seem to bother them, by the way. They see very little difference between themselves and other members of their species.”

The donkey snorted. “Sar says there is no difference. Only humans think there is.” Elkan shrugged and quirked an eyebrow at Josiah.

“So where do they come from?”

“It’s random. The Mother touches certain animals before birth, or soon after. If they’re domesticated, the animal’s owner will usually notice early on and bring them to us. Wild animals seek out a wizard or a Mother’s Hall. Either they can sense our presence, or the Mother guides them. Somewhere along our journey a Mother-touched animal or two may find us.”

“And a wizard has to have a familiar to do magic?”

“Yes, although we don’t call it magic. It’s the Mother’s power, as natural as any of her other works. In order to use it, a human and a Mother-touched animal must be bonded, and in physical contact.”

Josiah had noticed how Elkan was always touching Sar when he did something with the golden light. “What else can you do? Other than what I’ve already seen, I mean?”

“You’ve seen pretty much everything. Healing, opening windows, and moving things. And sometimes the Mother speaks directly to us. The Guildmaster most often, but to each of us at our bonding.”

Josiah stared at Elkan in awe. “You’ve spoken with the Mother?”

“Yes.” Elkan glanced away, a distant look in his eyes. “When I bonded with Sar.”

“What did she say?”

“She asked if I was willing to serve her, and I told her I was.” The wizard’s eyes focused on Josiah again, and smiled ruefully. “That’s really all I can say about it.”

The idea of actually talking face to face with the Mother made Josiah uncomfortable, so he was happy to change the subject. “Why do you get so tired sometimes when you do mag—I mean, use the Mother’s powers? Like after you healed that woman?”

“It requires physical energy to use the Mother’s power, just like doing any sort of work. Moving things is easier the closer they are, and harder when they’re farther away. For opening windows, the farther away in space or time you look, the more energy it takes. Healing is harder to judge—some things that seem simple take a lot of energy, others take less than you would guess. It has to do with the complexity of the healing. Wounds and illness are simple, but tumor diseases are complicated and burn up enormous amounts of energy. Sar and I pushed ourselves close to the edge on that one.”

“The edge?”

Elkan grimaced. “There’s a certain reserve of energy necessary to maintain life—to keep you breathing, your heart beating, everything your body can’t do without. If a pair draws too deeply on the Mother’s power, they can start using the energy they need to stay alive. Even a little will damage them, and taken too far, it will kill one or both of them.”

“Has that ever happened?”

“We’re forbidden to do it unless the stakes are very high. But sometimes it’s necessary. For instance, about twenty years ago thirty-one wizards and their familiars burned themselves out turning aside a hurricane headed for Elathir. Thousands of people would have been killed if they hadn’t.”

Josiah thought about the courage it must take, to stand there pouring out your life, knowing it would kill you, but doing it anyway for the sake of the people depending on you. He swallowed hard to clear the lump from his throat.

The sky grew darker as the sun sank toward the horizon and thicker clouds gathered overhead. They came around a bend in the road and Elkan pointed to a roof that was visible through a break in the trees. “Looks like we might not have to camp in the rain after all.”

They found a narrow track that turned off the main trail and followed it. Josiah imagined the hearty meal and warm, dry bed he hoped the house’s inhabitants would offer them. But when they came in sight of the building, his hopes plummeted. No one had lived here for some time. The yard was overgrown with weeds. A shutter hung by one hinge, banging back and forth in the gusty wind. An outbuilding that might once have housed animals was a blackened, roofless ruin.

Elkan frowned as he picked his way to the open door and peered inside. “I wonder why this place was abandoned? It can’t have been empty for long or the forest would have encroached more. I doubt it’s been a full year since this grass was cut.”

Josiah pushed past him. The only light in the room came from the open door and the gap left by the broken shutter. “Does it matter? It looks like the walls and roof are sound, so we’ll have a dry place to spend the night, at least.”

“Wait. You don’t know what—”

A musky scent hit Josiah’s nose just as a low growl sounded from the farthest, darkest corner. He froze. Two pale dots gleamed at him, a frighteningly long way above the ground.

“Elkan,” Josiah whispered, his mouth dry. “I think—”

With a roar a huge dark shape hurtled towards him. Josiah yelled and stumbled backward.

A spear of golden light shot past his shoulder and swelled to engulf his attacker, freezing it in place. Josiah swallowed hard. A black bear, almost as tall as he was and twice as broad, stood caught in mid-spring, mouth gaping, yellow teeth gleaming in the sparkling glow. Josiah backed toward the door, heart pounding so hard he could barely breathe.

Elkan’s voice was strained. “Move out of the way so we can guide it out.”

Josiah’s voice came out a strangled squeak. “Aren’t you going to kill it?”

“It was sleeping peacefully until you blundered into its home. Look.” The blob of light expanded to show two much smaller black shapes huddled against the wall. “She was defending herself and her cubs.”

“Fine!” Josiah edged past Elkan where he stood in the doorway, one hand on Sar, the other extended toward the bear. He was extremely careful not to jostle wizard or familiar. If Elkan’s hand lost contact with the donkey’s back, they were all in big trouble. “Get them out of there!”

Elkan hesitated. “It might be better for us to leave.”

“She’ll chase us as soon as you let her go!”

Elkan glanced across the yard. “You may be right. We’re barely keeping her from breaking free this close. I don’t think we can hold her until we get far enough away to be safe.” He drew several deep breaths, his outstretched hand quivering with effort. “It’s spring, so she’ll be leaving her den soon anyway. Josiah, get out of the way, over there.” He gestured with a jerk of his head.