The need for drink pounded in his head. “Lady Alana, I’m sick.”
“That’s why I brought you to this safe house.” Alana put her arm around him. He pulled away, but she held him. “You feel the call of wine, but you must fight it. You are young, but there will be more sweats. Perhaps vomiting. Insomnia. Paranoia. The Guild has been quite aware of this phenomenon for some time, but if you come to them in a weakened state, your reputation might be harmed.”
“What do I do?”
“I’ll tell you a story if you like ...”
She set Kian on her bed. He cringed away, but all she did was lay a wet cloth upon his brow. “I won’t ever harm you, child. I’m sorry you were hurt by people of loose morals and depravity.”
Not wanting to see the pity in her eyes, Kian turned his head away. “What will Eohan say when he knows?”
“He does know.” Her voice surrounded his mind.
“Everything?”
“Most things. He was there when I dictated my vision of you.”
Kian stared at the ceiling, unblinking. “I once was the son of a sausagemaker, then I was a slave that no one wanted. Now I stand on the edge of chasm … Gods I want a drink!” he shouted and kicked at her. “I need one! Just one!”
Alana stopped him by the strength of one finger on his sternum. Unable to sit up, Kian spit, but only accomplished getting spittle on his chin.
“I can offer you a life in the Guild, or you can choose an apprenticeship with a butcher, but I won’t let you drink tonight or tomorrow or the day after.”
Kian stared at the two young men who approached. Kian wanted to bite Roark’s neck and let those blue eyes fade to a milky white. He wanted to stab his brother for leaving him to his fate. And he wanted to murder the old witch.
He kicked upwards. “Eohan, help me!”
His so-called brother pressed Kian’s thrashing legs into the mattress. “We can’t let you drink wine tonight.”
“You’re hurting me,” Kian cried out.
In response, Eohan loosened his grip. Kian saw his weakness and pressed upwards. Kian tried to bite into his brother’s arm; Eohan slapped him away.
Though it hadn’t even stung, Kian laughed hysterically. “You aren’t my brother! My brother would never hit me.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” Eohan’s dark eyes flitted away. He almost let go again. This time Kian would bite him.
“Roark, help Eohan,” Alana ordered.
“I’ll kill you, witch!”
*
With the older boys holding Kian, Alana dug into her saddlebag. She found the half-drank blood potion, now thick and clotted. She shook the bottle until the liquid moved and uncorked it. The smell of blood tempted her senses. She suddenly didn’t want to waste it on a common boy, it was hers. Her own nephew had sacrificed himself for it.
Eohan grunted and Roark swore under his breath.
She glanced over at the three boys. She had to help Kian. Fear and self-hatred had grown into weeping lesions of poison dripping into Kian’s soul. Malnutrition and wine stunted his height. Alana wasn’t sure how to help him, but minimally he needed sleep.
Hoping the potion would take away his pain, she pressed the bottle of Roark’s blood to the boy’s lips. She didn’t know if it was the taste or the pressure from the bottle, but Kian accepted it willingly. He drank deeply until only drips coating the glass remained.
“I don’t know if this will last long enough to get him through the call of wine, but perhaps it will curb the worst of the cravings,” she said.
Though she tried to keep her voice calm, Alana heart sank. She wasted her nephew’s precious blood on a common boy. Her soul ached for the loss until the boy screamed and grabbed his head. He rolled on his side and curled up tightly, gasping for breath. Alana feared she poisoned him.
Suddenly, Kian straightened. The circles under the boy’s eyes faded. The sheen of sweat melted away. He stopped trembling. Alana put a wet cloth onto his chewed lips which were already showing signs of self-healing.
Eohan quickly set a blanket on his brother than ran a rope across Kian’s torso and tied it to the oak bed frame. He slipped his fingers between the ropes and his brother to ensure the younger boy’s comfort.
“We have a problem.” Roark gestured at the window where a Guild gull squawked, with a Guild mission scroll tied to its leg.
“Hopefully, it’s a small one.”
Alana went to retrieve the scroll. It was Corwin. He had a job for a War Ender. Below the dossier, he had added a small note.
If you plan of keeping another apprentice, do not forgo this job.
Apprentices were so expensive. And one day, they would be the death of her.
*
Acknowledgements
I am fortunate for the ability to pursue my passions--even when the first drafts don’t turn out. The Martlet Series started out life as my second novel. Though I always loved the characters, I knew the original work had issues. Thankfully after being published a few times, I was able to look at the original novel with a more discerning eye. I realized the problem and broke the original manuscript up into novella sized chunks. The War Ender’s Apprentice wasn’t even in the original text, though it is based on a short story I wrote.
First of all, I would like to thank my darling husband for always believing in me.
I would also like to thank my editor, Joe Dacy III, and my proofreader, Cassandra Vaughn.
The War Ender’s Apprentice would not be what it is without the help of my two first readers: N.D. Fessenden and Evan Witt. I would like to thank my writing group for believing in the project and to thank my friends at Two Hour Transport, since I started reading this novel aloud before it was edited.
I would also like to thank my fans who support my endeavors. Without you, none of this would be possible.
About the Author
Much to her chagrin, Elizabeth Guizzetti discovered she was not a cyborg and growing up to be an otter would be impractical, so she began writing stories. Guizzetti currently lives in Seattle with her husband and two dogs. When not writing, she loves hiking and birdwatching.
Guizzetti loves to write science fiction, horror, and fantasy with social commentary mixed in – even when she doesn’t mean it to be there. She is the author and illustrator of independent comics. She became a published author in 2012 and her debut novel, Other Systems, was a Finalist for the 2015 Canopus Award.
The War Ender’s Apprentice is the first novella that Guizzetti has written.
Also by Elizabeth Guizzetti
Comics published by ZB Publications
Faminelands
Out For Souls&Cookies!
Lure
Fantasy published by ZB Publications
The Grove
Science Fiction published by 48Fourteen
Other Systems
The Light Side of the Moon
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The War Enders Apprentice (Chronicles of the Martlet Book 1) Page 13
