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

by Angela Holder

  As they reached the path that led into the mountains, Tobi’s restlessness increased. Josiah patted her and waved his hand toward the forest. “Go on. Find yourself something to eat. Come find us again before morning.” He wasn’t sure if Tobi understood his words or not, but she certainly understood the meaning of his gesture. She bounded off between the trees and was quickly lost to sight.

  Josiah watched her go anxiously. Surely she could take care of herself in the wilderness. After all, she’d been doing it her whole life. He just hoped she’d come back. He told himself he was being silly. Tobi was Mother-touched; she knew her destiny lay with wizards, not her own kind. But he couldn’t help feeling lonely after she left.

  Just before sunset they reached the place where Elkan had lost Nirel’s trail the night before. Elkan put his hand on Sar’s back and called up a window. Josiah studied him. He and Sar had only gotten around six hours of sleep and one large meal, but they seemed adequately refreshed. The golden radiance formed quickly, steady and clear. A circle of blackness appeared in the center and expanded, until the Mother’s light was no more than a faint rim of sparkles around a disk of night.

  Elkan gazed into the circle, and Josiah joined him, although he could make out nothing but darkness within. Elkan frowned and chewed on his lip for a moment, then inclined his head toward the window. “Look, right there. A little bit of starlight comes through a gap in the leaves and catches her hand.”

  Josiah peered until his eyes ached. As the surrounding sunlight faded he could just see the faint ghostly blob Elkan indicated. “I see her.”

  “That’s the last sighting I’m really sure of. She was right here where we’re standing, headed uphill. Help me watch and listen while we scan the area.”

  It was a slow, painstaking process. Elkan and Sar ran time within the window backwards and forwards for each little patch of ground. Both the woods around them tonight and the woods of last night were alive with faint rustles of wind and noises of creatures. It was almost impossible to tell what small sounds from within the window might have been made by Nirel. Any time they caught a glimpse or heard a trace of anything faintly promising, Elkan and Sar would play it back repeatedly, until the sound and dim blobs blurred together and Josiah couldn’t be sure he really saw or heard anything.

  Still, they made progress. They followed a trail of what they thought must be footsteps until they were rewarded with a unmistakable small cough. They made that spot the new center of their investigations and branched out from there. Elkan kept a disciplined pace. Bit by bit they discovered Nirel’s path.

  Josiah yawned. The stars had wheeled in great arcs overhead; surely three quarters of the night had passed. It seemed a bit easier to see. Either he was getting more skilled, or the space within the ring of golden glitter was a tiny bit lighter grey than the surrounding blackness.

  “We’ve got her.” Elkan’s voice was grimly triumphant through his weariness. “We tracked her all the way through to morning. Now we’ll be able to see.”

  As the day-old sunlight strengthened within the window, Elkan’s words proved true. Nirel became visible, tired, clothes dirty and torn, but pushing on with unflagging determination. With the coming of daylight she seemed aware that stealth was no longer useful and concentrated on speed instead. The view in the window zipped forward through space and time until she moved out of range and it blurred.

  Josiah looked up from the brilliant circle, eyes dazzled, unable to see anything in the still-dark night of the present. Elkan and Sar let the window fade. When their eyes had adjusted to the darkness, they resumed the chase. For the first time Josiah felt truly hopeful that they’d succeed.

  Every now and then they stopped to rest, and Elkan and Sar opened the window again, following Nirel a little further. They watched her come to a deep ravine and turn to follow it. The gloom around them was beginning to lift as they came to the ravine themselves. It was a steep-sided crack in the rock of the mountain, at least twice as deep as Josiah was tall, and just as wide. A trickle of water ran along the bottom.

  They paused at the edge and passed around water, dried fruit, and nuts. Elkan looked weary but hopeful. He raked his fingers through his bedraggled hair to rid it of leaves and twigs, and shook it into something resembling its usual orderliness.

  “Once more, Sar.” The window formed above his outstretched palm.

  Nirel plodded along, slower as the long hours took their toll. Josiah hoped they’d see her stop to sleep soon. Although she’d probably be gone by the time they reached the spot. They were still watching events from almost a day earlier.

  Nirel came to a place where a large branch had fallen. It extended across the ravine, its far end resting on the other side. She climbed onto it and bounced experimentally. It swayed, but held. With quick, sure steps she ran across.

  I can do that, Josiah thought. Easy. Elkan probably could, too, and Dara and the other watchers, if the branch was strong enough to hold their weight. But he wasn’t sure how Sar could get across.

  In the window Nirel bent down and seized the branch. She heaved with all her strength until she dragged the far end free of the bank and the branch crashed into the ravine.

  She surveyed the impassable chasm with satisfaction, rubbed her hands on her tunic, and headed off into the forest with renewed energy.

  Josiah gaped at the scene in the window. How dare she? They might have to go miles out of the way to find a way around now.

  Elkan chuckled. “Clever, Nirel. Very clever. But not nearly as effective as you think.”

  Josiah recognized the place when they came to it. The branch lay at the bottom of the ravine. Elkan set his hand on Sar’s neck. The Mother’s power spilled from his outstretched hand and enveloped the branch, lifting it and settling it gently athwart the gap.

  Josiah jumped up and ran light-footed across to the other side. “It seems pretty strong to me.”

  Dara followed, more cautiously, and the other watchers. The branch gave no sign of bending under their weight. Still, Josiah eyed Sar doubtfully. The donkey couldn’t stay behind; Elkan was powerless without him. But even as surefooted as Josiah knew Sar to be, he didn’t think the donkey would be able to navigate the narrow branch.

  Sar stepped up to the branch. Elkan stood close behind. Elkan settled his hand on Sar’s flank, and golden light spread to envelope man and donkey. “Ready?”

  Sar twitched an ear back and delicately set one hoof atop the branch. Calm and sure, his other hooves followed, and step by step he picked his way across. Elkan walked immediately behind him, never breaking contact, and the Mother’s power steadied them.

  Safely on the far side, Elkan and Sar called up the window again, and they resumed their pursuit. Nirel seemed to feel her ploy had given her a margin of safety. She stopped more often to rest. But always, after sitting and closing her eyes for a few minutes, she would set off again.

  “She’s got some destination in mind,” Elkan said, after watching her rise, yawn, and rub her eyes before striding away. “She won’t stop until she gets there.”

  They were deep in the mountains, far from any settlement. The sun was high overhead. Tired as he was, Josiah was glad Elkan hadn’t suggested turning back. They couldn’t abandon the trail now. They’d made up so much time. Meira must have left with the traders hours ago. They’d miss her, but maybe they could stop by and say hello when they passed through Shalinthan. Josiah did worry a bit about Tobi, but surely if the mountain cat couldn’t find them, she’d settle down in a warm patch of sun somewhere along the path to wait for their return.

  Another stop. Elkan’s hand shook when he extended it to open the window. He rubbed it against his leg and put it out again, steady. The ball of light was slow to form, but eventually it cleared, and they were able to watch Nirel’s progress as she made her way to the edge of the window’s range once again.

  Josiah saw Nirel’s head come up and her steps quicken. A moment later he could hear what she had heard: voices.r />
  Nirel hurried on and rounded a bend in the path. Ahead of her was an open area along the banks of a stream. Several dozen tents clustered around a handful of fire pits. Many people moved around the camp, men and women both.

  Two men armed with knives and bows stepped out of the trees, one on each side of Nirel. She froze, but met their glares. “I’m here to see Kabos. I’m his daughter. Is he with you?”

  The guards studied her for a moment. One nodded to the other, who set off along the path Nirel had come down, scanning for anyone who might have accompanied her. The other guard took her by the arm and steered her toward the camp. “Kabos! Come here!”

  Nirel held herself stiff and proud. Across the camp, a figure rose from beside a fire. Kabos’s face was unreadable as he approached. He stood looking at her.

  “I came to find you, Father.” Nirel did her best not to show any fear, but her hands balled into fists at her sides. “Please, let me stay with you. I don’t want to go back.”

  For a long time Kabos stared at her. Then he nodded curtly. “If Ozor says you may.”

  “Thank you, Father!” Nirel flung herself at him and threw her arms around his waist.

  Kabos put his arms around her, and Josiah was astonished to see his dark eyes shine with unshed tears. “Good girl,” he murmured, almost too soft for Josiah to hear.

  A man approached, and Kabos released Nirel, drawing back. The man was small and compact, with a round face and a short, pointed beard. With a lurch in his stomach Josiah realized he must be the bandits’ leader.

  “Kabos.” The man’s voice was warm and pleasant. “Who’s this?”

  Kabos put a protective arm around Nirel’s shoulder. “My daughter Nirel. She wants to join us, Ozor.”

  Ozor came close to Nirel. He took her chin in his hand and lifted her face to study it. She met his gaze defiantly.

  Ozor turned to the guard who had returned from the forest. “She didn’t bring anyone with her? Or let herself be followed?”

  “No. No one’s out there.”

  “So, girl, you ran off from your mother? You came all this way through the forest alone to find us?”

  Nirel nodded. “I couldn’t stay with her, not after she betrayed Father like that. I want to stay with him.”

  “I’m impressed by your loyalty. How old are you, girl?”

  “Thirteen, sir.”

  “But not apprenticed yet? Or have you abandoned your master as well as your mother?”

  “No sir, not until next year. I turned thirteen right after Springtide.”

  Ozor nodded thoughtfully. “Old enough to choose for yourself. If I allow you to join us, you must swear an oath of loyalty to me. You can never change your mind or go back. Those are the terms everyone here has accepted. Are you willing?”

  Nirel’s eyes flicked aside for a moment, and she bit her lip, but then she raised her chin and again met Ozor’s gaze. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

  “Very well. Kabos, take her and get her settled.”

  Kabos nodded. He put his hand on Nirel’s shoulder. “Come.” His voice roughened. “I believe you and I have unfinished business to attend to.” He jerked his head toward the far side of camp, where a bush with long, sprawling branches grew. “Before the wizard and his brat interrupted us.”

  Nirel swallowed. “Yes, Father. I understand.” She set her mouth into a thin, hard line, and walked beside Kabos across the clearing.

  Ozor watched them go. The window stayed focused on the bandit leader. He leaned over to the guards. “Spread the word to break camp. The wizard Kabos told us about will follow, and her trail will lead them straight to us. We need to leave before nightfall.”

  As the guards nodded and murmured their obedience, the window faded. Elkan looked grimly at Sar and turned to the clustered watchers. “How many of them would you say there were?”

  Dara frowned. “At least fifty; maybe nearer sixty. Mostly armed with bows and knives, some spears.”

  Elkan inclined his head. “That’s what I saw, also. It’s obvious the six of us can’t go up against them. How many watchers does Tathorlith have?”

  “Not nearly enough. About twenty. Plus those who’ll join us at need, but they’re not trained to it. Less than fifty, all told.”

  “Are there other towns with watchers nearby?”

  “Not for several days journey, and then only a handful that could help us.”

  Elkan frown and rubbed his forehead. “We’ll find the place and make sure they’ve moved on. We can check which direction they headed. But after that, I’m afraid we’ll have to return to Tathorlith and report to Master Admon.”

  When they arrived at the place where the bandits had camped, it was deserted. They watched in the window as the bandits headed out, higher into the mountains. Dara and the other watchers cut blazes into the trees to mark the path they’d taken. Josiah stared down the empty trail, tired and discouraged. At least Nirel was among adults who would protect her. Though her guardians might prove more dangerous than the hazards of the wilderness.

  * * *

  The return journey went much more swiftly than their slow, painstaking progress up. Josiah felt ragged from lack of sleep, but he pressed on. Tobi rejoined them close to town.

  When they arrived they found Sathea waiting at Admon’s house. She and Yovela sat by the fire, watching Yarin play on the floor, speaking in quiet voices. Ilana was on Yovela’s lap, grabbing at a doll made of braided yarn. Admon was preparing the evening meal. Everyone looked up when Elkan entered, Sar and Josiah close behind. Sathea jumped to her feet, anxious eyes searching their faces. Admon wiped his hands on a towel and approached them with a questioning expression.

  “Did you find her?” Sathea cried. “Please…”

  Elkan laid a hand on her arm. “We found where she went. Sit down and I’ll tell you everything.”

  “Come to the table,” Admon urged. “The food’s ready, and you can eat while you tell us. There’s hay for the donkey, and the butcher delivered more meat for the mountain cat.”

  Josiah dug into the hot stew, ravenous. He was sure Elkan must be even hungrier and more tired than he was, but the wizard paused between bites to relate the full account of their search. When he described the bandit’s camp, Admon stopped eating and listened, nodding sharply at the estimate of their numbers and weaponry.

  Sathea put her hand to her mouth. “You left her there? Among thieves and murderers?” She looked back and forth between Elkan and Admon. “How long until you go after them?”

  Admon came to stand beside her. “Sathea, it’s not that simple. There are many more of them than our watchers can take on. And Nirel’s with her father.”

  Sathea shook her head, hope and fear warring on her face. “Kabos will take care of her, I know. But he beats her, and he won’t stop just because she came to him. He’ll feel more righteous than ever. Your council judged she should be taken from him—how can you leave her with him now?”

  Admon sighed. “We’ll do what we can, Sathea. But Nirel’s made her choice, as foolish as we think it is.”

  “She’s too young for that kind of choice!” Sathea snatched Ilana from Yovela’s lap and rounded on Elkan. “I wish you’d never come! You healed one of my daughters, but you cost me the other.” With a choked sob, she grabbed Yarin’s hand and dragged him out the door.

  Elkan stared after her, running his fingers repeatedly through his hair. He closed his eyes, shook his head, and returned to his seat, where he resumed eating without enthusiasm. Josiah bit his lip and ducked his head, unwilling to meet Elkan’s eyes. They finished the meal in silence.

  Josiah went to help clear the dishes after supper, though he could barely keep his eyes open, but Yovela waved him away. “Go to bed, young man. I don’t know what Elkan was thinking, keeping you out all night, and all day, too. Both of you, off to your room!” She made sweeping motions toward the guest bedroom. They laughed and complied.

  As Elkan passed, Master Yovela held up a hand to stop hi
m. “Oh, I just remembered. That journeyman miner stopped by earlier. She asked me to give you a message.”

  Elkan’s face lost its humor and settled into closed lines. “She left with the traders?”

  “No, actually. She said to let you know that she decided to wait until you’re ready to leave. I suppose that will be soon, now that you found what happened to the girl.”

  Elkan drew a deep breath and nodded. “There’s little left here for us to do here. Tomorrow I’ll write a report to Guildmaster Dabiel and finish up the last few healings and judgements. We’ll leave the next morning.” His step as he followed Josiah into the bedroom was heavy.

  They readied themselves for sleep. Josiah paused after pulling his boots off. “Elkan?”

  “Yes?”

  Josiah couldn’t look at him. “I… I just wanted to say… I’m sorry. I wanted to fix things, but instead they’re messed up worse than ever. Nirel’s back with her father; Sathea’s alone and unhappy. Nothing’s the way I thought it would be. I understand now why you didn’t want us to interfere.”

  “Well, that’s one good thing to come out of this fiasco.” Elkan sighed and softened his sharp tone. “The Mother may yet work all this out for some good end we can’t see. I’ve never had any doubts about your intentions, Josiah, only your judgment. If you’ve learned from this experience, I’m glad.”

  Josiah nodded glumly and finished getting ready for bed.

  Fifteen

  Tobi burst out of the bushes and bounded to Josiah’s side. He ruffled her head. “What’s the matter, girl?” She stared at the path ahead, her keen senses aware of something he couldn’t perceive.

  Meira broke off her conversation with Elkan and went to Thistle, taking hold of her bridle. Usually the donkey was content to follow at Sar’s heels, but unexpected danger might send her bolting. And even after two months she wasn’t completely comfortable with Tobi. She preferred to give the mountain cat a wide berth, and Meira did her best to accommodate her. Meira spoke quietly, so she wouldn’t wake Ravid, who slept on her back. “You don’t think there’s any danger, do you? It can’t be the bandits; we haven’t seen or heard word of them since we left Tathorlith.”