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

by Angela Holder

  Now an older girl was expressing a subtle but unmistakable interest in him. He felt much the same as he had perched on the rock high above, both eager and terrified. Greatly daring, he looked at Ledah and tentatively tightened his fingers around hers. Her hand felt soft and comfortable in his, the warmth of their contact spreading through him in a tingling wave.

  She turned to him and smiled, scooting a bit closer. “I’m really glad the wizard let you come up here with us, Josiah. It’s been fun having another boy around. You wouldn’t understand how it is, with just a few families in the village. We’re stuck with whoever happens to be near our age.” Her full lips pouted. “Back in Korisan, you must know lots of boys and girls.”

  “I guess so.” Josiah quailed at how stupid that sounded. But Ledah continued, not seeming to notice anything wrong.

  “I bet you hang out with girls all the time.” She looked back out over the water. “Is there anybody, you know, special? Anybody you’ve thought about, once you’re a journeyman…”

  “No,” he hastily reassured her. “I mean, I’ve only been an apprentice for a year.” His face burned, but he felt compelled to be honest. He stared up at the thundering falls. “I’ve never really even…”

  He turned back, to find her smiling at him. The sun was in her eyes, lighting them from within so they shone with green-gold fire. “I like you, Josiah. I like you a lot.”

  He licked his lips nervously. “I like you, too, Ledah.” His voice was rough in his ears. He cleared his throat. Her face tilted toward him, expectant. Humor crinkled the corners of her mouth.

  Josiah closed his eyes and took the plunge. He bent his head until his lips met hers, their soft warmth a shock as deep and thrilling as the icy water.

  The kiss lasted only a moment. Ledah drew her face away with a contented sigh and pressed closer to him, snuggling against his bare side. It felt wonderfully natural to put his arm around her shoulders and draw her close against him. His body was singing, acutely conscious of every tiny sensation, the chill of the rock beneath his thighs, the hot sun on his shoulders, the roar of the waterfall and the icy spray of droplets on his feet. But none of that mattered, not next to the delicious fire that bloomed wherever her skin touched his.

  By mutual accord their mouths came together again. It lasted longer this time. Her lips moved gently against his, and tentatively he responded, pressing a little more firmly into her resilient softness.

  By the time they separated he was grateful for the chance to breathe, drawing a shuddering gulp of air to quiet his racing heart. She laid her head against his shoulder and put a hand on his chest, feeling the pounding of his heartbeat. He stroked the rippling waves of her hair, breathing its herbal fragrance. He closed his eyes and soaked in the joy of the moment, engraving every little detail in his memory.

  Her body stiffened against his. He jerked his eyes open to see what had drawn her attention. Across the pool, Yan was halfway up to the rock where Josiah and Noam had been jumping.

  “That idiot.” Ledah grabbed Josiah’s hand and squeezed it. “He thinks if you can do it, he can too. Be careful, Yan.” Her voice was too quiet for Yan to hear, but her hand was tense in Josiah’s.

  “Will he be all right?” Josiah studied the younger boy’s progress. “Noam and I can go help him if he needs it.”

  “Probably. He’s pretty surefooted. Oh!” Yan’s foot slipped a little, but found a new hold, and he pressed on. He scrambled the last few feet and perched triumphant on the overhanging rock.

  In response to his delighted shouts, they yelled and waved encouragement. He quailed for a moment when he looked down, but gathered his courage, flexed his knees, and jumped.

  They applauded as he plunged into the pool and came up, spluttering and laughing. He scrambled out and headed up again, quick and confident.

  Ledah relaxed against Josiah’s side and grinned up at him mischievously. “Where were we?”

  Playful confidence surged through Josiah. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe somewhere about… here?” He reached again for her lips.

  Just as they touched, a shocked gasp yanked him around. Abra’s hand was on her mouth. Josiah followed her horrified gaze across the pool.

  Yan hung suspended, gripping a branch. His feet kicked in midair. Josiah scrambled to his feet. One of Yan’s feet found purchase, then the other. Josiah released his breath, relief flooding him.

  Yan teetered and let go of the branch with one hand to reach for a new handhold. The rock under Yan’s left foot broke loose from the wall. He lurched, flailed, and tumbled in a shower of gravel and debris down the steep slope. Josiah heard a sickening thud as Yan’s head bounced against a stone.

  Eight

  Noam stroked across the pool toward Yan. Josiah plunged in behind him. Panic lent his arms and legs strength, and he flew across the pool.

  Yan had come to rest tangled in a rhododendron bush several feet above the water. Noam, his face white, reached a tentative hand towards the gash at the back of Yan’s head, where blood ran down and pooled among the rocks.

  “Don’t touch him!” Ledah ordered. She hoisted herself out of the pool, shoved past Josiah and Noam, and surveyed Yan’s sprawled form critically. “He might have broken something. Moving him could make it worse. Josiah.” Her eyes snapped at him. “Get the wizard. Now.”

  Josiah blinked at her an instant before her words registered. Nodding, he dove back into the pool. He floundered through the shallows past Edria and Keren, scrambled out over uneven rocks and gravel, shook off the worst of the water, and raced down the path toward the village.

  The steepest spots forced him to slow a little. It wouldn’t help Yan if Josiah fell and broke his head, too. But he slid recklessly down the slopes, taking chances to increase his speed. Reaching the more level section, he ducked his head and ran, breath tearing at his lungs, heart racing, bare feet pounding the packed earth.

  The distance seemed much longer than it had on the way out, but finally Josiah reached the outskirts of the village. Sar grazed in the lush grass near the river.

  “Sar!” he shouted. The donkey’s head came up, long ears swiveling toward Josiah’s voice. He let out a bray that echoed through the valley. Josiah stumbled to his side. Elkan emerged from Master Galia’s house and met him there.

  “Josiah, what happened?” Elkan demanded.

  “It’s Yan. He fell and hit his head. Back at the waterfall. He needs you, it’s bad—”

  Without waiting to hear more, Elkan met Sar’s eyes and swung his leg over the donkey’s back. Sar leaped into a gallop down the trail, Elkan’s legs nearly dragging the ground.

  Josiah bent over, hands on his knees, panting. Galia and a number of other villagers ran up, drawn by the commotion.

  “It’s Yan,” he repeated. “At the waterfall. He’s hurt.”

  Unable to wait, he charged off behind Sar and Elkan. They had far outdistanced him, so he ran through the quiet woods alone, the only sound the pounding of his feet and his ragged breaths.

  Even fueled by fear, he couldn’t keep up the wild pace. His steps faltered and he slowed to a walk for a few minutes before forcing his tired legs to run again.

  He caught up with Elkan and Sar at the last steep section of trail. The wizard had dismounted and was pushing the donkey from behind, helping him up. With a surge of scrambling hooves Sar topped the last rise. Elkan and Josiah followed.

  Shouts of relief greeted them. Elkan paused at the edge of the pool and surveyed the scene. Yan sprawled on the near side of the pool, only a few dozen feet away, but the steepness of the cliff coming down to the pool and the tumble of jagged rocks made the water the only way to approach him.

  Elkan settled his hand briefly on Sar’s neck. “There’s no room for you where he is. Wait while I check him. Then we can move him over here. Josiah, clear a space where we can lay him.”

  Without waiting for a reply, Elkan plunged into the water, wading, then swimming to where the others clustered around Yan’s still f
orm. They backed away, anxious looks on their faces. Noam and Ledah jumped into the pool to give Elkan more space.

  Elkan climbed out and knelt beside Yan. He laid gentle fingers on the boy’s neck. “Strong pulse.” He looked carefully at the jagged wound on the back of Yan’s head. The blood had mostly clotted, but a little still oozed out. “He probably has a skull fracture, or at least a concussion.” Delicately he felt Yan’s neck and upper back. “I don’t think his neck or back are broken, though I won’t be able to tell for sure until I go in with Sar. But it should be safe to move him.” He straightened and looked around sternly at the gathered apprentices. “Your friend should survive. But we need your absolute cooperation.”

  They all nodded frightened compliance. “You.” Elkan pointed at Noam, who was treading water in the pool. “If your tunics are still dry, bring them to me. You.” His attention turned to Abra. “Stay here until we’re ready to move him. Everyone else, come with me, but stand well back.” He jumped into the pool, and after a few quick strokes climbed out again by Josiah and Sar, pushing his dripping hair back from his face.

  Josiah had found a fairly level patch of grass and cleared it of loose stones, trampling the grass down. Elkan surveyed it and nodded. He took one dry tunic from Noam and spread it on the grass. Sar stepped to the edge of the pool and looked toward Yan. Elkan moved to stand beside him, resting one hand on his back.

  Ledah crowded close to Josiah, her wet clothes dripping. He offered his hand. She clutched it without ever taking her eyes off Yan. He tightened his grip, wishing there was more he could do to comfort her.

  Elkan extended his hand. A thread of golden light spun from his outstretched fingers and shot through the air. When it reached Yan, it spread into a glowing ball, encompassing the boy’s whole body. Abra backed away.

  Gently, like a bit of down lifted by a light breeze, Yan drifted upward. He floated across the water cushioned on a cloud of light. Turning, Elkan set him down in the space prepared for him.

  Without breaking concentration, Elkan knelt at Yan’s side, one hand always in firm contact with Sar, the other moving to hover over the boy’s head and quest down the length of his body. Elkan muttered, mostly to himself, but Josiah could make out the words. “Like I thought, a depressed skull fracture. Neck’s all right, back’s sound, right wrist is snapped, but that can wait. Greenstick fracture in the leg. That can wait, too. No internal injuries. Lots of cuts and bruises, but other than your head you got off lightly, Yan. Let’s see what we can do about that.”

  He took a deep breath and hovered his hand above the wound on Yan’s head. By now Josiah was familiar with the expression of deep concentration that spread over Elkan’s face whenever he was healing. From the way his brow furrowed and jaw clenched, this was a particularly difficult case.

  For a long time nothing visible happened. Then gradually the torn skin began to come together. Soon only an angry red scar was left.

  Elkan and Sar let out their breath in unison and relaxed for a moment before turning their attention to Yan’s leg.

  Ledah fidgeted. She was shivering. Josiah looked over to where his tunic lay close by Elkan’s hand. He wanted to wrap it around her shoulders, but Elkan might yet need it for Yan, and the other girls were cold, too. Abra had swum back across the pool and stood wrapped in Noam’s arms. Edria and Keren clung to each other. They must feel as helpless as he did, standing there with nothing to do but watch, unable because of their loyalty to their friend to do anything else while he remained in danger. Josiah put his arms around Ledah and held her close, trying to share what little warmth he had.

  Elkan sat back on his heels. Despite the chill, beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. As he shifted around to focus on the broken wrist, Yan stirred, moaning. His eyelids fluttered. Elkan laid a steadying hand on his shoulder.

  “What… what happened?” Yan muttered. “Where am I?” He tried to sit up, but Elkan held him down. Yan screwed his eyes shut again. “My head hurts.” He started to raise his hand to his head, but yelped as he jarred his injured wrist.

  “You fell and hurt yourself, Yan. You cracked your skull and broke your wrist. We’ve taken care of your head. Now lay still for a few more minutes while we heal your wrist.”

  Yan subsided, nodding his compliance. With a groan he raised his other hand to gingerly feel the back of his skull.

  Elkan laid the injured arm straight on the ground. Yan bit his lip but didn’t cry out again. Sar thrust his nose down. Elkan laid one hand on his neck and hovered the other over Yan’s wrist.

  From behind them came voices and the sound of feet scrambling over rocks. Josiah turned to see the first of the villagers arrive. A man extended a hand to help a woman up the last tricky slope.

  “Yan’s parents,” Ledah whispered to him. He could have guessed as much by their pale, stricken expressions as they hurried to the little huddled group.

  Elkan was still deep in concentration. As the wizard’s assistant, Josiah supposed it was his responsibility to speak to them. He approached the couple as they edged up behind Elkan, straining to see their son.

  “What’s going on? Is he all right?” The man’s voice held an edge of anger.

  “He’s going to be fine. Wizard Elkan is working on his wrist right now; he broke it when he fell.” Yan’s mother bit back an anguished noise. “I think he’ll be able to concentrate best if we all step back a little.” Josiah suited action to words, and Yan’s parents reluctantly followed.

  Yan opened his eyes. “Mum? Da?”

  “We’re here, Yan.” His mother’s voice trembled despite its reassuring tone.

  “Don’t worry. I’m all right.” Yan closed his eyes again.

  Elkan panted, and Sar’s sides heaved. Josiah studied them, worried, but even as he wondered if he might need to interrupt, Elkan straightened. He closed his eyes briefly. Then he looked up, saw Yan’s parents, and pushed himself to his feet. “Your son will be fine. Knitting bone is hard work, but we’ve done as much as we could. All the injuries are stabilized, but he should be carried home and rest for a few days before he tries to put any stress on the newly healed bones.”

  More villagers arrived. A few foresighted people had brought blankets. One was commandeered to fashion a stretcher for Yan, while the others were quickly parceled out among the wet apprentices. Josiah wrapped one around his bare shoulders. He watched Ledah gather the dry cloth around herself. He would have liked to help her, but under the watchful gaze of so many people he felt shy and awkward.

  Two of the village men lifted Yan onto the stretcher and hoisted it. Yan protested he was fine, he could walk, but they ignored him. Ledah and the other apprentices joined the group of villagers. They reassured their anxious parents and said encouraging things to Yan. None of them looked back as the group made its way over the rocky outcrop and down the steep slope, many hands going out to support and stabilize Yan’s stretcher.

  Feeling abandoned, Josiah picked up his tunic from the ground and put it on. Elkan was getting a drink from the pond. Sar bent his head to the water and drank thirstily.

  Elkan came over to Josiah. “Yan will be fine. We took care of all his injuries; there won’t be any permanent damage.”

  Josiah nodded.

  “You did well, coming to get us so quickly. He was going into shock. We’d have had a much harder time if you’d delayed any longer.”

  Josiah nodded again. Elkan bent to gather the abandoned tunics from the ground. He tossed them on Sar’s back and turned to clamber over the rocky outcrop and make his way down. Sar put his ears back but followed, stepping carefully among the jumbled loose rocks. He waited until Elkan moved clear of the steepest section before going down in a rush, catching himself and slowing to a more sedate pace where the ground leveled again.

  Josiah followed. For a while all was quiet except for scrambling footsteps, hoof beats, and labored breathing as they worked their way down the steep section of the trail.

  Once the ground leveled, Sa
r went ahead and Elkan dropped back to walk beside Josiah. At first he didn’t speak, but after Josiah remained stubbornly silent for a while, Elkan looked over at him. “Is something bothering you?”

  Josiah bit his lip, reluctant to admit his part in the days events. But his need to confess won out. “It was all my fault!”

  Elkan’s voice was calm and nonjudgmental. “What happened?”

  Josiah poured out the whole story. “He only did it because he felt left out; he never would have thought of it on his own. If I hadn’t climbed up there first and started the whole thing, Yan wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

  He wasn’t sure if he expected Elkan to scold him or to assure him he wasn’t really at fault, but Elkan did neither. He walked beside Josiah in silence for a few moments. Then he asked, “Did you intend to put Yan at risk?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Did you consider whether your actions might have that effect, even though you didn’t intend it?”

  Josiah stared at his feet. “No.”

  “Did you pause to think about the possible consequences of your actions?”

  “No.” Josiah felt more miserably guilty than he would have if Elkan had berated him. “I just saw the place where the rock stuck out, and thought jumping from it into the pool would be fun. So I did.”

  “The way you thought walking through the fulling stocks would be fun?”

  “That was different! I thought about that for a long time before I got the chance to try it.”

  “About what might happen if something went wrong?” Elkan looked sideways at him.

  “No.” Josiah flushed. “Just how to do it. It wouldn’t have been exciting if it wasn’t scary. Neither would jumping into the pool. Both of those things should have worked just fine! There was no reason for anything to go wrong.”