Apprentice

by Nicholas Hale

  The true oddity about the bounty struck him today morning. Two hundred gold was a trifle. If the egg was truly that valuable, then Garvin could afford to have half of Archon looking for them. The slightly dangerous mercenaries charged between five and eight hundred gold. The very dangerous hunters took nothing less than thousand for a job like this. But such bounties were rarely put on people inside the city.

  He neared the ladder that would take him to the docks section. If he was right, he should end up at an opening right opposite the Red Parrot Inn.

  Riven threw down his backpack to examine the contents. There was a fresh pair of clothes, not his usual dirty-but-sturdy rags, but something much finer that he had bought just this morning. It wasn't too fancy but sufficient to pass him off as a low-ranking servant of some minor house. He also had fresh boots.

  He put his dagger and dirty clothes back in the bag before catching a glimpse of the last item in the backpack.

  A pink sealed bag consisting of six hundred gold.

  He had taken the money from their private stash. Toskk would be furious if he found out, but for Riven it was a very practical decision. The way things were right now, there were only two outcomes. Either Toskk could sell the egg and make a fortune, in which case the six hundred gold would not matter. Or he would die, in which case, again, the gold would not matter. Living was more important.

  After he was convinced that his appearance was proper, Riven ascended the ladder. As he had expected, he was right opposite the Red Parrot Inn at the docks. The Bloodied Parrot would be more appropriate, thought Riven as he saw that the sign had a crudely drawn parrot with blood smeared all over it.

  The guard the entrance put out his hand to stop Riven.

  "What do you want, kid?"

  Riven scowled. He was sure the potion made him look much older. At least old enough to not be called a kid. Maybe it was his height…

  "I need to see Velasco," said Riven.

  "And what would you want to see him about? Bugger off before I give you a good thrashing."

  It was probably understandable, thought Riven. The Red Parrot was infested with mercenaries. Drunk mercenaries at that. Brawls were very common. Death was also common. It wasn't suitable even for whoring. The only thing it was good for was finding work killing someone. Placing and collecting bounties.

  Riven drew himself up.

  "Master Garvin sent me. Regarding a bounty."

  The guard raised an eyebrow. He probably knows the regular people that come for Garvin, thought Riven. Without wasting time, he reached into his pocket and grabbed two gold coins and tossed them to the guard. The guard examined them as if make sure they were real. Then he shrugged and moved out of the way, allowing Riven to pass.

  It was late afternoon, and most of the people were busy having lunch. Riven could have used a bite, but he needed to find Velasco. Fortunately, he had seen Velasco outside the inn quite a few times and could recognize him. He received a few shoves as he crossed the dining area. His temper was flaring up, but the voice inside his head told him to keep calm. They were just drunks looking for a fight.

  In one corner, he saw Velasco sitting with a woman. The woman was wearing chain-mail armor. There were two men who stood next to them at the table. Probably Velasco's guards, he thought.

  He was proven right when they stopped him from approaching the table.

  "I'm here on behalf of Master Garvin," Riven said, speaking to both the guards. Velasco appeared not to notice, but the woman heard and gave Riven a smile.

  "Likely story, that. Beat it, kid. Before I hurt you," said one of the guards. He put his hand on his sword hilt as if to show Riven he was serious.

  Riven fished the pink bag out of his backpack and opened it slightly to allow the glint of gold to be seen. The guards turned to Velasco, who gestured to let Riven through.

  Riven stood at the table silently till Velasco spoke.

  "What does Garvin want? There has been no information regarding his bounty. No one has approached me so far with any information," said Velasco.

  "Which is why he wants to raise the bounty," said Riven, putting the pink bag on the table. "Six hundred gold more. That makes it eight hundred in all."

  "Well, well," said the woman before Velasco could speak. "I could use some of that gold. Which one is that bounty now?" she asked, looking at Velasco, who ignored her.

  "I told Garvin two hundred wasn't enough," said Velasco, smiling. Riven stopped himself from letting out a sigh of relief. Velasco had bought it. Placing a bounty wasn't very easy. It was very rare to allow a man to place a bounty on behalf of another. It had to be done in person. It was mostly to prevent someone from misusing the system to start trouble between other people. Looked like modifying an existing bounty did not have the same rules as placing a new one. Especially when it was to increase it.

  "He also wants to add some more information," said Riven. "The thief Toskk has in his possession an artifact. It has to be returned in good condition as well if the bounty is to hold," said Riven, lying.

  "What artifact?" asked Velasco.

  "Master Garvin says it looks like...an egg," said Riven, pretending to sound a little confused. Velasco nodded.

  "How long will it take?" asked Riven after thinking for a while.

  "Well, the larger the bounty, the sooner it'll get done. This is much better than two hundred, but tell your master if he could go as high as a fifteen hundred, then he will have his bounty in a fortnight or lesser."

  That was exactly what Riven wanted. The deadlier mercenaries had standards and a reputation to uphold. They would not sink lower because it made them look more desperate. Assassins like Sorvino and Black Peter, they were local legends in Archon. They would never stoop to hunt for less than three thousand gold. And the assassin Garren Winters. Riven couldn't even guess what that man charged.

  "Tell your master Sar Gael shall have it for him in three days' time," said the woman, pointing to herself and showing all her teeth to Riven. She looked like an ox and could probably chop a man in half with her sword.

  That did not worry him too much. This wasn't a warrior's job. It was that of a tracker. No matter how well she could swing a blade, she would have to find Toskk first to hurt him.

  Glad that his price estimation wasn't wrong and that he did not put Toskk in too much danger, he bowed and made his way out of the inn. This time without getting shoved.

  He realized that he had increased the danger. Eight hundred was a moderate jump up from two. It would have more mercenaries looking for Toskk, and better trackers as well. But it would also put the word out on the street. There were several bounties under two hundred, so they were never noteworthy enough of gossip. Eight hundred could set quite a few tongues wagging.

  Riven smiled to himself as he thought about the true gem hidden in this plan.

  If things worked out perfectly, the bounty would be taken down in a day or two.

  Chapter 21

  "Come on. These are syllables," said Lorian, throwing up his hands in frustration, "and rules for binding them. Why are you making me learn the Alekh?"

  Rhaen was sitting on the floor opposite him, and Lorian had just about had enough of her.

  It had been two weeks and all his time had been spent trying to understand the Alekh—the language of magic.

  Thaugmir had taught him about it, but it wasn't really necessary to understand it to use magic.

  Magic was accessed in the form of cants, which were tried-and-tested phrases that could call forth magic. Randomly chaining words of the Alekh to form phrases did not often generate anything useful. As such, the Alekh was necessary only if you were designing your own spells or wished to research how magic worked. Practically, there was very little use for it.

  There were uncountable numbers of spells in existence in numerous spell books. Thousands of variations for each spell already proven to work well. With that much research already done, learning the Alekh was laborious and often fruitless. />
  "You wanted to learn the Lumen? This is the first step to understanding it."

  "What do you mean understand? I don't want to understand it. I mean I do. But not like this. Master Gawain uses it. I saw him cast a spell with it. I'm sure even you know a few spells of the Lumen. Just give me the phrases and I'll pick it up from there."

  "The Lumen doesn't work that way. If you think it was as easy as vocalizing a few phrases, don't you think someone would have already done it? And the Lumen would be known to everyone?"

  "That's the point. Nobody knows it because it's a secret guarded by the mages of Norvind."

  "That's what all the outsiders think. The Lumen doesn't work with a set of phrases."

  "How is that possible? Everything in magic boils down to uttering the correct phrases using the Alekh. Even summoning."

  "I... that's something Master Gawain wishes to teach you himself. To get to that stage you would need to know the Alekh inside out."

  Lorian groaned. It was painful. At first he thought Rhaen was punishing him some more. But then he saw that she too had taken a very deep interest and was trying her best to make this easy for him. Her efforts in aiding him had somewhat softened his attitude towards her. She seemed to be impressed by his ability to grasp knowledge.

  "You're doing well. At the risk of swelling your already swollen head, you're learning the Alekh fairly faster than any other apprentice I've seen."

  She was giving him an encouraging smile. He smiled back weakly. He had been up the last three days without sleep sitting with the books she had given him. Perhaps his willingness to put in the effort had changed her initial opinion of him.

  "The Lumen isn't going anywhere. Maybe you should take a break. Sleep for some time."

  Lorian nodded. Although he didn't share Rhaen's optimism. Compared to his usual learning speed, this had been quite unremarkable.

  "Where's Master Gawain?" asked Lorian.

  "He's...visiting someone. He should be back in a few days. If you rest now, then there's a good chance you can learn enough for him to show you why it's important."

  Lorian nodded. Rhaen was right in saying he needed to rest. Learning something new was always taxing on the head. He needed to rest. His main problem was that unlike most mages, he never tired in the same way. There were times when his brain was very tired but his body was too restless. Right now, he had been sitting in one place for three days and his limbs screamed for some activity. He needed some quick exercise to tire himself out.

  "Is there an armory in the castle? Or some training place? In the barracks perhaps?"

  Rhaen gave him a quizzical look. "There should be, but why do you ask?"

  "I practice with a sword or dagger sometimes to tire myself out. It also helps clear my head."

  "Well, there isn't a practice dummy in the mage tower. And we rarely venture out of the mage tower."

  Lorian got up and started to move out of the room.

  "You're going into the castle?" asked Rhaen, sounding a little concerned.

  "Don't worry," said Lorian, dragging his voice, "I won't hurt anyone."

  Chapter 22

  Rennar had sent word inviting Khamis to Norvind again. At present, Khamis had gone out on a slave raid. The raid meant Khamis was gone for at least a week, but Rennar stressed the urgency in the message.

  The new batch of slaves wasn't due for another week, but there would be trouble when the slaves found out that their already-meager rations would be reduced. There would be some disturbance, but Khamis would quell them. He took his business seriously. Slaves he sold had to behave themselves until they died. It was a guarantee of sorts that Khamis gave.

  It had been a week since their last meeting and Kirrel was keeping a close eye on things. Azrael was content with his room in Norvind and that fool Doyen hadn't made any attempt to contact him...yet.

  There wasn't much more to be done today.

  He was well ahead in most of his important administrative duties. He had even written and sent off several letters to Aegis, both official and to his family. He was feeling particularly good at having completed his work and decided to go for a ride on one of the several horses he kept in the stables. His favorite was a new desert mare that Khamis had broken in just a few days ago.

  Magnificent riders, these nomads, he thought as he walked. Aegis wasn't much for the art of riding, and the horses were of a more delicate breed. But the desert horses of southern Ryga...nothing could match them for sheer speed and hardiness.

  Rennar was still dreaming about his horse, Ruzgar, when he saw a young boy walking towards him.

  Rennar froze in place, shocked. He recognized that face.

  That blasted apprentice of Gawain's! What the hell was he doing outside the mage tower?

  Rennar dropped his hand to his belt and found that he had no blade. There weren't any guards in sight either, curse them! The boy was smiling as he neared him.

  Rennar came to his senses and decided to put up a dignified front.

  He was a Governor of Norvind! A representative of the great Emperor Thyurin, the shield of the Aegean Isles. He had nothing to fear from this apprentice! He felt reassured, albeit weakly.

  He was about to ask the apprentice what he was doing outside the mage tower before the apprentice himself spoke.

  "Hello there, could you guide me to the barracks, please?"

  Insolent brat! He means to kill more soldiers! The nerve!

  After Master Gawain assured him that the disaster at the market square would not be repeated, here his apprentice was, just weeks after the massacre asking the governor himself to guide him to his next slaughter. The apprentice seemed to have noticed the flash of anger on his face, for he spoke quickly.

  "Oh! No... That was all a misunderstanding back at the market. It won't happen again. I don't want to hurt anyone. I just want to find a practice dummy and a sword to work it with."

  Rennar was stunned. He wasn't sure he heard correctly. What on earth was he talking about? A sword? What would a mage want with a sword? Rennar knew little about mages, but swords and mages didn't seem to fit. He was still thinking of an answer before the apprentice spoke again.

  "Um...you can speak, can't you?"

  That was the last straw. Rennar would have exploded, but he controlled his temper and replied sputtering.

  "Of course I can speak! I am Rennar, the Governor of Norvind! And—"

  "Oh. Master Gawain mentioned you. Pleased to meet you. Sorry about your men that day. Lost my temper. You know how it is. I'm new to this place. Where I come from, I'm not used to seeing people treated like that. Thought your men might have been breaking the law or something. Now, about the barracks..."

  The last thing Rennar needed was a lecture on morality from this little prick. He was about to say so when he heard another familiar voice interrupt.

  "Did I hear you say you were looking for the barracks?"

  Azrael. What the hell was he doing here? First he has this bratty little apprentice lecturing him, and now his scrupulous ass of an overseer.

  A fine pair they make, he thought, and just his luck to encounter them both on a day that was going so very well.

  He was about to tell Azrael to go mind his own business before he found himself interrupted yet again. Norvind was nearly as large as Emperor Thyurin's palace in Ithaca, and it was just his luck that the two people he least wanted to see were standing together in front of him.

  "Yes. I would be grateful if you could guide me there."

  "But this is lunchtime, most of the guards would be in the dining rooms below. They're a few rooms away from the kitchen, two levels down from here."

  Rennar gave a scornful look towards Azrael.

  "I don't want to meet any guards. I just want to find the barracks," answered the apprentice.

  "Oh...I thought..." Azrael spoke, and suddenly he seemed to have noticed Rennar and looked embarrassed. "Oh, never mind then. What do you want to go to the barracks for?" he asked.
r />   This was the absolute limit. Rennar needed to unleash his anger on someone. Or something. This man should be ashamed to call himself an Aegean. Here he stood from one of the most illustrious families in Aegis, and all ready to betray his own kind! Having served in the military, he had at least expected that Azrael would have at least a minuscule of patriotism in him.

  "I just need some practice with a sword. I was hoping they had a spare one at the barracks. And a practice dummy as well."

  "Oh, I was heading there myself. I practice every day. But you don't want the barracks. The barracks at Norvind are purely living quarters and, funnily, the armory is nowhere near them. It's a level below. And it has a few dummies you can practice with as well. Come along, I'll take you there."

  Both Azrael and the apprentice departed, leaving Rennar fuming. He half thought of calling them both back, before he decided it wasn't worth it. Rennar had a notorious temper, but he always held it in check, letting it out in a very calculated way.

  As far as this situation was concerned, there was nothing to be gained by asserting his authority over those two morons. One was a madman who thought nothing of slaughtering a slew of guards, and a powerful one at that.

  The other unfortunately held the rank of overseer. In the coming days, Rennar would require him to sign and stamp his seal on the papers meant for the treasurer.

  The papers were vital. Among the administrative offices, the treasurer was easily the most powerful, next to the chief Justiciar. In some situations, a little more. Failure to deliver the papers meant that there would be an inquiry and an investigation. The last thing he wanted was the treasurer's men poking their noses in the mines.

  He had to let these insults pass. If the price of his peace of mind was listening to their blabber and suffering their insolence, so be it. Let them go play with their swords. He had nothing to worry about from the apprentice. Gawain himself had given his word that the apprentice would do no more harm. Whatever interaction there was between the apprentice and Azrael would be meaningless. It gave him some solace to think that he was being mature about this.