Josiah looked curiously at Elkan. The wizard had grown uncharacteristically taciturn over the last few days. The month since they’d left Remethera had been busy with many tiny villages and isolated farms, three or four in a day sometimes. Elkan had become more and more meticulous about not missing a single farm or village, no matter how far out of their direct path they must travel.
Maybe he was finally going to enlighten Josiah about the problem. “Yes, sir?”
Elkan stirred the steaming porridge and took a bite. Only after he’d swallowed did he look at Josiah. “We’ll probably reach Arlith today.”
Josiah nodded and waited with an expression of polite interest, even though Elkan fell silent again. He never got anywhere with Elkan by pushing him.
Eventually Elkan gathered his thoughts enough to speak. “I grew up near Arlith. My parents’ farm is about an hour to the southeast.”
Josiah certainly hadn’t guessed he was going to say that. He brightened. “Will we get to stay with your family?” He pictured days of feasting and pampering as doting parents made their long-absent son welcome.
Elkan sighed. “I think we’ll have to. I must warn you, though, it won’t be a comfortable visit. I haven’t seen my family for several years. We’re not on the best of terms.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to talk about it right now. I just thought you should know.” Elkan jumped to his feet, thrusting the half-empty bowl of porridge into Josiah’s hands. “Here, you can have the rest if you want it. I’m not hungry. Let’s pack up and get on the road.”
Elkan pushed their pace all through the day, only making a few stops. By late afternoon they reached Arlith.
An older woman among those who came out to greet them, braving the grey drizzle, peered at Elkan as he introduced himself. “Elkan? You must be Tiah and Adrel’s boy! Hey, Nira, go tell Mahala…”
Word quickly spread. By the time the head of the town council appeared and welcomed them into her home, most of the village was aware of Elkan’s presence. The gathering that evening consisted largely of older folks reminiscing with Elkan about people and places Josiah had never heard of, interspersed with Elkan’s childhood friends bringing their children to show off to him.
They finished their work and set off the next afternoon. Josiah threw his hood back to catch the faint warmth of the returning sun on his face, though the wind was still chilly as it riffled through his curls.
Late in the afternoon they crested a low hill and looked down on a patchwork of fields, a half-dozen houses scattered among them. Elkan waved his hand resignedly. “Here we are.” He led them toward the largest, most central house.
Josiah could see the family resemblance in the woman who emerged from the farmhouse to greet them, something in the shape of her mouth and chin, though her light brown hair and golden-brown eyes were nothing like Elkan’s, and she was a head shorter. “Elkan! Adrel, Elkan’s home!”
She threw her arms around Elkan, who returned her embrace. “Hello, Mother.”
Tiah drew back and beamed at him. “Word came this morning you were in the village. We’ve been waiting for you. I’ve got supper going. We had a wonderful crop of acorn squash this year; I fixed some the way you like, with honey and butter.” She turned to a small boy who ran up. “Lemel, go fetch your mother, tell her Elkan’s here.” Lemel raced off. “He’s six now, can you believe how he’s grown? He was only a baby last time you saw him.”
Elkan murmured dutiful admiration of the boy, who Josiah gathered was his sister’s son. Apparently all Elkan’s siblings lived here, along with several uncles, aunts, and cousins, in the other houses scattered among the fields. Josiah saw figures coming from most of them. Elkan’s mother gave him a quick summary of the last five years’ worth of events in the family.
“…and Fibor married a herder girl last spring, they’re expecting their first sometime next summer. That’s their new house beyond the bean field. Now where’s—”
She broke off. A tall man Josiah knew at once must be Elkan’s father emerged from the house. He wore his hair long like Elkan’s, but the black was threaded with silver. His face was craggy and stern.
“Father,” Elkan greeted him, his voice carefully neutral.
“Welcome home, son.” He clasped Elkan’s hand formally.
Tiah looked from one to the other, her eyes dark with apprehension. “Why don’t you introduce us to your companions, Elkan? We remember your familiar, of course. Star, wasn’t it?”
“Sar,” Elkan corrected her. He went on to introduce Josiah and Tobi. Josiah kept his hand firmly on Tobi’s neck. He was used to the apprehensive reactions Tobi provoked. Elkan’s mother was better than most. Her eyes only widened a bit as she swallowed at the thought of the huge mountain cat in her home.
“It won’t get into the stock, will it?” Elkan’s father regarded Tobi without fear, but without warmth, either. “Your brother married a herder; she brought a flock of sheep and a few head of cattle with her. They’re out in the north pasture. Make sure it stays away from them.”
“Mother told me Fibor got married. I’m surprised he could find a girl who’d put up with him.” Elkan’s grin was only a little strained, but his attempt at levity fell flat. Adrel looked at him, expression unchanging. “Tobi won’t go near their herds, I promise. If they have a beast they can spare, the Wizards’ Guild will be glad to buy it. Otherwise, she can hunt wild animals as she usually does.”
“You’ll have to take that up with Tersira.” Adrel nodded toward one of the people converging around them, a slender woman, hand in hand with a young man who looked like a slightly younger version of Elkan, except his hair was chestnut brown.
Elkan nodded. “Josiah, this is my brother Fibor Farmerkin Farmer. Fibor, this must be the wife I’ve heard so much about already. Congratulations to you both.”
Elkan went around the gathered throng, making more introductions. Besides his brother he had two older sisters, both with their mother’s brown hair. The older and taller, who Elkan introduced as Hanan, carried a bright-eyed baby on her hip. She smiled briefly at Josiah before turning to follow the excited scampering of Lemel and a younger but equally rambunctious girl.
The younger and shorter, Sairna, was roundly pregnant. A toddler peeped warily from behind her legs, bouncy black curls framing her thin face. “Bethiav, it’s all right, this is your Uncle Elkan. He won’t hurt you.” Josiah crouched and tried to catch the girl’s attention, but she hid her face in her mother’s side. “I’m sorry. All the noise and excitement is too much for her.”
Elkan assured Sairna they weren’t offended. He proceeded to name off his aunts, uncles, and cousins to Josiah, and be introduced in turn to the multitude of children that had been born since his last visit. The names barely registered with Josiah, and he promptly forgot them all. He did notice, after the dozenth or so repetition, that they were all Farmerkin Farmers, every one, except for the young Tersira Herderkin Herder, and one uncle by marriage who was Watcherkin, but now a master farmer nonetheless.
Elkan’s mother herded them toward the door when the litany of names was completed. “Come in, come in. You look so tired, sit down and rest for a while before dinner. Tersira, Fibor, you can get their beasts settled in the barn. Will that be all right?”
Josiah frowned at Elkan, his hand tightening on Tobi’s neck, but Tersira approached the mountain cat fearlessly. Elkan nodded, and Josiah murmured instructions into Tobi’s ear to obey the herder woman and behave herself. Sar followed Fibor docilely, eager to be relieved of his load.
“Yes, come in.” Adrel’s eyes were on Elkan. “Your grandmother is eager to see you.”
A muscle in Elkan’s jaw tightened, but he nodded readily enough. Josiah followed as his parents led them into the house.
The main room of the farmhouse was spacious and immaculately clean. A fire roared in the huge fireplace that took up one wall, filling the room with welcome heat. Beside the hearth a heavily padded rocking cha
ir cradled a frail, wizened old woman.
Elkan crouched and gathered her gently in his arms for a hug. “Hello, Grammi. I’ve missed you.”
The voice that issued from the old woman was unintelligible to Josiah, but Elkan nodded in understanding. “They’ve been keeping me busy in Elathir.”
He bent close to hear more of her distorted words, then beckoned to Josiah. “This is Josiah Potterkin Fuller, Grammi. He’s assisting me on my journey. Josiah, this is my grandmother, Master Yazel Farmerkin Farmer.”
Josiah tried not to stare, but it was hard. One side of Yazel’s body hung limp and unmoving, the arm and leg withered, the side of her face slumped. But she put out her other hand and gripped his firmly, her dark eyes sharp and intent on his.
Tiah drew up chairs for them beside Yazel’s, and Josiah settled into his. He was restless, though. He felt very much the outsider in this close-knit family. Even Elkan seemed almost a stranger. The wizard kept up a stream of pleasant conversation with his grandmother, interspersed with occasional exchanges with his mother. It bothered Josiah that everyone else understood Yazel’s words, when to his ears they remained garbled no matter how closely he listened. Adrel, though he worked beside his wife preparing dinner, said little, and Elkan didn’t address him. The tension between them grated on Josiah.
He jumped up and retrieved his and Elkan’s packs from beside the door. “I’ll put our stuff away. Master Tiah, where will we be staying?”
She looked up from the vegetables she was chopping. “You can have your and Fibor’s old room, Elkan. I’ve been using it for storage since he moved out, but the bed’s still there. Upstairs, first room on the right, dear.”
Josiah lugged the packs up to the indicated room. So this was where Elkan had spent his childhood, until he’d gone to Elathir to become an apprentice wizard. Hadn’t Elkan said he’d planned to apprentice to his father until word came that the Mother had chosen him? Josiah appreciated for the first time just what a shock that summons must have been.
There was no trace of Elkan left in the room. Crates and baskets filled it, leaving only a narrow space around the bed. A thick quilt and freshly plumped feather pillows promised a snug haven for the night. Josiah dumped their packs atop a stack of boxes.
He went downstairs and headed out to check on Sar and Tobi. The barn was primarily used for storage of seed and equipment, but there were a few stalls, and Sar and Tobi were both comfortably settled. Sar had a generous portion of hay, and Tobi gnawed happily on a large haunch of what looked like sheep, or maybe goat.
Soon after he went back inside, Hanan and Sairna arrived, accompanied by their families, all bearing steaming plates and bowls of food. Hanan, along with Sairna’s husband Gilon, joined Tiah and Adrel bustling around the table, while Hanan’s husband Daor and Sairna came to join Elkan by the fire.
Sairna settled her large bulk into a chair with a grateful sigh and patted the round swell of her belly. “Just another month,” she told Elkan. She flinched as Bethiav, climbing into her lap, poked her with a knee, but accepted the toddler into her arms with a hug. “Bethiav wants a sister, but Gilon is partial to a boy. I don’t much care either way.” She shot a sidelong look at him. “I don’t suppose you could tell us, could you?”
Elkan quirked an eyebrow at her. “Sar and I can take a look later, if you want. We’ll tell you, if you really want to know. It’s not a bad idea to check and make sure the baby’s healthy, since we’ve got the chance.”
“Would you please? Master Alanda says everything’s going well, but you know how I worry.”
Elkan assured her he would. Bethiav squirmed and pulled at Sairna’s tunic. “Not right now, Bethi… Oh, all right.” Sairna settled her daughter to nurse, wincing as the toddler latched on. “I hoped she might wean during the pregnancy, but she’s nowhere near ready. I’m happy to tandem them, but I’ve been so sore, right since the beginning. I hope that goes away once the new baby’s here.”
Bethiav pulled away and whimpered. “Thirsty, mama.” She sat up and tugged at Sairna’s hand.
“I’m sorry, sweetie. There’s not much for you these days, is there? I’ll get you some water.” She sighed and set Bethiav on the floor, starting to climb laboriously to her feet.
“I’ll get her some.” Josiah hopped up from his chair.
“Oh, would you? Thanks so much.” Sairna settled back gratefully.
Josiah filled a wooden cup at the cistern. He crouched beside Bethiav where she clung to her mother’s chair. “Here’s some water for you.”
She eyed him distrustfully, but accepted the cup, turning away as she drank. Even when she finished the water she wouldn’t respond to any of his usual arsenal of tricks. Instead she screwed up her face into a trembling pout and pulled at Sairna’s sleeve. Sairna relented and lifted her again into her lap. “I’m sorry. She’s been so clingy lately. I don’t know if it’s just her age, or the new baby coming, or what. Maybe she’ll feel better after we eat.”
Tiah called them to the table. The good smells made Josiah realize how hungry he was. Fibor and Tersira arrived and crowded around the table with the others. Josiah was glad to see only Elkan’s siblings and their families had been invited to eat with them; if the whole extended family gathered, he doubted the room would hold them all. As it was, even though Gilon and Adrel had brought an extra table from one of the other houses, they were crowded so tight Josiah had a hard time keeping his elbows from bumping the people next to him.
Adrel went to the large chair by the fire and gathered Yazel into his arms. He carried the old woman to the table and settled her in the chair next to his.
Josiah watched them while he shoveled the plentiful, tasty food into his mouth. Adrel served Yazel with patient attentiveness. He scooped the best morsels from each platter onto her plate, and cut the softest bits of meat into bite-sized pieces. Yazel could manage her own fork, though awkwardly, but when a bit of saliva drooled unnoticed from the slack side of her mouth, Adrel wiped it away with his napkin. When she dropped her fork, tired, while her plate was still half full, he coaxed her to accept a few more bites from his.
Josiah glanced around. No one else took any notice. He waited for a break in the conversation. Gales of laughter greeted the end of a story of a prank Elkan had played on Hanan when she was newly apprenticed to Tiah. As everyone applied themselves anew to their food, Josiah leaned over to Elkan and spoke softly. “Why’s your grandmother like that? Did something happen to her?”
Quiet as his voice was, an unpredictable hush fell in the middle of his words, so that they were clearly audible. Adrel looked at him bleakly. “Yes, Elkan, why don’t you tell him what happened?”
Elkan bit his lip. “I don’t think now’s a good time.”
Adrel’s voice was cold. “Certainly it is. Mother won’t mind. Will you, Mother?” But he didn’t turn to Yazel for confirmation, instead keeping his eyes fixed on Elkan. “The boy’s curious. The rest of us know the story; no reason he shouldn’t, too.”
Elkan glanced around the table for support, but no one met his eyes. Josiah squirmed, face hot with embarrassment. “You don’t have to tell me,” he said quickly. “It’s none of my business, really.”
Shaking his head, Elkan set down his fork and ran his hand through his hair. “When I was six, Yazel had a seizure of the brain. You remember the heart seizure Master Norlan had? This is similar, caused by a blockage of blood flow, but in the brain. We don’t understand them very well; sometimes they’re mild and sometimes severe, with unpredictable effects. Often they’re fatal. Yazel’s affected her speech and the right side of her body, as you see. But not your mind, right, Grammi? You’re still smarter than all the rest of us put together.” Elkan gave his grandmother a valiant grin.
Yazel replied, her distorted words a tart retort of some kind, for nervous giggles ran around the room.
“That’s all, really. We’ve cared for her ever since. We’re so glad we didn’t lose you, Grammi.”
Tiah smil
ed and opened her mouth to change the subject, but Adrel interrupted. “That’s not quite all, though, is it, Elkan? Tell him why she remains this way, instead of being healed.”
Elkan faced his father. “I’ve told you, Father, a wizard could only have helped her within the first day or so after it happened. After that, parts of her brain had died from lack of blood. And the Mother’s power can’t bring back what’s dead.”
“So you say. But the fact remains there was no wizard here, even though it was the time of year when one should have been passing through. We waited, confident that when the wizard came, they could help her.” Adrel’s voice was quiet but intense. It roughened as he spoke. “We waited, and waited. But no wizard came, not that spring, nor that summer. They sent a messenger, telling us no one would be coming that year. Same thing the year after. Finally, the year after that, a wizard passed through and was able to look at her. But by then it was far too late, of course.”
Elkan put down his cup. “That was the year after the hurricane, Father. Thirty-one wizards and familiars were lost the previous summer. The Guildmaster did the best she could, but nowhere in Tevenar had the wizards they needed, not for a long time after. People were dying in Elathir, and Korisan, and Thedan.” His voice rose; he swallowed and forced it quieter, turning to Josiah. “Father’s held an unreasonable grudge against wizards ever since. And of course it didn’t help when I was called.”
Josiah shrank down in his chair, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut. Adrel glared at Elkan. “How was I supposed to feel when the same wizards who did nothing to help my mother wanted to take my eldest son, my apprentice? I wish I’d never let that messenger through the door. You chose to turn your back on all you knew, everyone who loved you, and join those useless charlatans.”
The Fuller's Apprentice (The Chronicles of Tevenar Book 1) Page 34
