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

by Angela Holder

  “So the same thing wouldn’t happen to others! How would it be, if no one answered the Mother’s call? You should know better than anyone—” Elkan half rose from his chair, then sank back. He looked down at his plate. “I’m sorry, Father. I should know by now that I’m never going to change your mind.”

  Adrel didn’t answer, just gave him a look of such mingled grief and bitterness Josiah caught his breath. He turned to Yazel. “Come, Mother, if you’re finished. Let’s get you cleaned up and into bed.” With great tenderness he scooped her into his arms and bore her across the room and up the stairs.

  Elkan watched them go; everyone else looked uncomfortably at their hands or off into space. Once they disappeared, Tiah waved at the still full plates. “Go on, eat up. I worked too hard to let all this go to waste.”

  Gradually people complied, and after a few false starts, the buzz of conversation once more encircled the table. Elkan leaned toward Josiah. “I’m sorry you had to hear that. No, it’s all right, you had no idea it was such a touchy subject. I should have told you beforehand. I couldn’t expect you not to be curious.”

  Josiah nodded mutely and resumed eating, if only mechanically. He knew it was his fault, whatever Elkan said, for jumping in with prying questions about a private family matter. Yet another instance when he’d failed to think before acting. He tried, he really did, but somehow he never realized what he was doing until it was too late.

  Twenty-Four

  Josiah sprawled in the sunlight watching the children play. The adults were busy in the house, preparing for the evening gathering. This time all the aunts and uncles were invited, along with neighbors and friends from the surrounding countryside and the village. The weather had turned fair, chilly enough that Josiah was glad of Tobi’s warmth as he snuggled against her, but sunny, with only a gentle breeze. That morning Josiah had taken Tobi for a romp in a patch of woods by the stream, but in the afternoon Elkan’s harried sisters had requisitioned his services. Josiah had engaged Lemel, his younger sister Jova, and Bethiav in a rowdy game of Bandits and Watchers. They’d chased him around the house and barn, shrieking in delight.

  Josiah had tired of the game before the children did. He’d let them catch him; Lemel had tackled him around the knees and brought him to the ground, and the two girls had bounced on his chest and belly. Then Bethiav had said she was thirsty, so they’d all trooped over to the well and shared drinks from the dipper. Josiah had steered the children to a large pile of dirt beside the barn, and soon all three were climbing and digging, giving Josiah a chance to relax.

  “Baby, baby, baby!” The jeers grabbed Josiah’s attention. He scrambled to his feet and hurried over. Lemel was laughing and pointing at Bethiav. She stood sobbing, her breeches dripping.

  “Leave her alone. That’s mean.” Bethiav had been having fun. She’d joined in the play, even though she was still wary of Josiah. Now she shrank from his attempts to herd her back toward the house. He really didn’t want to have to pick her up and get pee all over himself. Finally she let him take her hand and lead her to the door.

  Sairna sighed and dusted flour-covered hands on her apron. “It’s all right, Bethiav. We’ll go change you.” She smiled apologetically at Josiah. “She’s been using the privy for a year now, but the last few weeks she keeps having accidents. It’s probably the new baby; Hanan says Lemel did the same thing when Jova was born. I should start carrying a change of clothes with us again, but I keep hoping she’ll stop. Bring the others, too; I’ve got some honey cakes they can have.”

  They all trooped over to Sairna’s house. Even with dry breeches, Bethiav kept crying. She clung to her mother, stubbornly resisting Josiah’s efforts to woo her. Sairna passed around the nut-studded honey cakes. Bethiav ate hers eagerly, finally allowing Josiah to take her from Sairna’s arms.

  Sairna regarded her, head cocked. “She’s been so moody lately. Usually she’s such a sweet-natured little girl, but for a month or so now any little thing will set her off. Everyone tells me it’s normal, with the new baby coming, but I wonder…”

  “You should have Elkan look at her,” Josiah suggested.

  Sairna shook off her concern. “No, I’m sure it’s nothing. I’m a worrier. I always have been; he’ll tell you. Ask him about the time I was sure my pet rabbit was dying because she was pulling all her hair out. A week later she had kits. Bethiav’s fine.”

  Josiah’s first impulse was to run and tell Elkan anyway, but he caught himself. If Bethiav’s mother didn’t think there was a problem, he should mind his own business and stay out of it.

  Sairna packed a change of clothes. It was a good thing, because Josiah had to take Bethiav to have her wet breeches changed again before the meal was ready, even though he tried to remember to take her to the privy frequently.

  No sooner were they back at their play, deep into a game of hide-and-find, than Bethiav tugged at his sleeve. “Water, please.”

  “Maybe if you didn’t drink so much, you wouldn’t wet your pants.” Josiah regretted his words immediately, for her dark eyes welled up with tears and her lower lip trembled. “All right, all right. Can we at least find Lemel and Jova first? No, stop crying. They can stay hiding, I guess.”

  Josiah was very glad to hand Bethiav back over to Sairna when the preparations were complete.

  Many tables were set up in the yard. Josiah enjoyed sitting with a handful of other apprentices, Elkan’s cousins and their friends. When the music and dancing started, two girls vied for his attention. They were both nice enough, but neither really caught his fancy. Instead, he found himself thinking about Nirel. Where was she now? Had the bandits made it across the mountains before the snow, or had the wizards and watchers caught up with them? Even now she might be a prisoner.

  The party lasted late into the night. When Josiah finally sought his bed a number of people still sat around the fire, Elkan in their midst, talking endlessly.

  The next day was Restday. Elkan called the service to order. Few people spoke, most content to sit quiet in the Mother’s presence. Bethiav sat in Sairna’s lap and whined sporadically.

  Around the fire that evening, the talk was subdued. Elkan’s family seemed to have run out of things to say. Elkan sat by his grandmother, gently rubbing oil into her hands and feet. He’d spent time the day before with Sar, sending the Mother’s power through Yazel’s body, easing what they could of the ravages of age. Adrel watched him from across the circle. Since the eruption of hostility the first night, Elkan and Adrel had been unfailingly polite to each other when they were forced to interact.

  Sairna stirred, looking over at her husband Gilon. Bethiav was asleep on her lap. “We need to head home and get her to bed. Elkan, it’s been a lovely visit. Once you’ve got your mastery maybe you can make it out here more often.”

  “Maybe.” Elkan was noncommittal. “Oh, you wanted us to check the baby. We never did get around to that.”

  “It’s all right. You’re not supposed to do wizardry on Restday, are you?”

  “It will only take a moment. We’ll be gone before you’re up in the morning.” Elkan went to the door and called Sar to him.

  Sairna passed Bethiav to Gilon and settled back in her chair. The Mother’s light flowed over her round belly.

  Elkan smiled. “One healthy, growing baby.” A trace of tension went out of Sairna’s shoulders, and she beamed at Elkan. “Do you want to know?”

  Sairna glanced at Gilon. He nodded. “Yes, tell us.”

  “Well, big sister, how would you like… another little girl?”

  Gilon made a wry face, but he was grinning. Sairna laughed with delight. “Bethi will be so happy.” She glanced at her sleeping daughter. “It’s too bad you won’t get to be here for the birth. I’ll send you a message.” Sairna rose and gathered her things, beckoning Gilon to join her as she moved toward the door.

  Elkan embraced her. “The Mother’s blessings on you and all your family.”

  “Thank you. That means so much to
me. She’s richly blessed us. May her blessings be on you too, in your journey.”

  Elkan and Josiah departed the next morning at their usual early hour. Tiah packed their bags full of as much food as they could carry. Elkan exchanged a long warm embrace with her, and a stiff one with his father. They set off down the road, waving good-bye. Josiah was happy he’d gotten the chance to meet Elkan’s family, but he was glad to leave.

  * * *

  Late the next afternoon they took a brief break by a stream. Elkan consulted his map, debating whether to camp for the night or press on to the next farm.

  Rapid hoofbeats and the clatter of a wagon being driven recklessly fast made them turn and look at the road. The driver began shouting as soon as he saw them. With a start, Josiah recognized Gilon.

  He reined the horses to a stop. “Elkan, thank the Mother I found you. You’ve got to come back. It’s Bethiav; she’s sick. She started throwing up this morning, then she fell asleep and we couldn’t wake her. Sairna said she knew something was wrong. I had to come find you before you got too far away. Throw your gear in the wagon, and I’ll take you back.”

  Josiah gulped. Elkan nodded reassuringly at Gilon as he began unbuckling Sar’s harness. “Give me a hand, Josiah. Sar, you don’t mind walking alongside, do you? I suppose Tobi can ride, if she wants. It’s all right, Gilon, I’m sure everything will be fine.”

  They dumped their packs and Sar’s into the wagon and climbed onto the driver’s bench. Gilon clucked at the horses and sent them trotting back towards the farm. Sar had to stretch his short legs to keep up, but Tobi loped beside at a comfortable pace.

  Elkan assumed his usual calm, professional demeanor. “Tell me more about what happened. Bethiav seemed healthy to me. Did it come on suddenly?”

  Gilon rubbed his chin. “She’s been fretful lately. Sairna said that was to be expected, with the new baby on the way. But she didn’t seem sick.”

  “Could she have gotten hold of some bad food? Maybe while we were all busy at the party? Although that would have affected her sooner. Josiah, you were watching her, weren’t you? Did you notice anything?”

  “It was mostly Sixthday I was keeping them. She seemed all right.” Josiah flushed. “Sairna was a little worried, but she said not to bother you. I wanted to say something, but I’ve been trying not to jump in without thinking, like you told me.”

  Elkan ran his hand through his hair. “Just tell me what you noticed.”

  “Um, not much, really. Just that she wasn’t happy. She’d play and be fine as long as she was distracted, but as soon as we stopped she’d get whiny again. And she kept wetting her pants.”

  Josiah didn’t think that last detail was important, but he tossed it in for the sake of completeness. Elkan frowned thoughtfully. “How often, do you know?”

  Josiah wrinkled his brow, trying to remember. “We had to change her clothes twice, plus I took her to the privy a bunch of times.”

  “Perhaps an infection of the bladder.” Elkan turned to Gilon. “Was she feverish?”

  He pondered, and then shrugged helplessly. “Not this morning. Before that, I don’t know. You’ll have to ask Sairna. Bethiav hasn’t wanted anyone but her lately.”

  Elkan’s eyes went unfocused as he named over the symptoms to himself, and maybe to Sar. “Fussiness, frequent urination, followed by vomiting and lethargy… Anything else?”

  Gilon shook his head. Josiah thought back on his interaction with Bethiav. “She was awfully thirsty. The first night we were there, she was all whiny until I brought her some water. And she kept wanting to stop for drinks while we were playing.”

  Elkan went very still. He swallowed and closed his eyes. “Dear Mother, not that.”

  “What?” Gilon demanded, as Josiah stared at Elkan, wide-eyed.

  He shook his head. “Just get us back as quickly as you can.”

  It was dark when the wagon arrived at Gilon and Sairna’s house. Tersira came out as they pulled up. She took the horses’ heads. “I’ll take care of them. You go on in.”

  “Any change?” Gilon’s voice was strained.

  She shook her head, her eyes dark, and motioned them inside.

  The family clustered around the fire. Tiah and Adrel, Hanan and Fibor were all there. Bethiav’s bed had been brought downstairs so she could be as close as possible to the warmth of the fire. She lay still, a tiny motionless form huddled under blankets, quiet except for ragged breathing.

  Sairna sat by her side, stroking her hair. Her face broke into fierce hope as she looked up and saw them. “You’re here!” She ducked her head again, murmuring to Bethiav. “Look, Bethi, your Uncle Elkan’s here. He’ll make everything better.”

  Sar close beside him, Elkan came to his niece’s bedside with his usual calm poise, but Josiah noticed his fingers wound tight in Sar’s mane. Sairna bit her lip as he knelt by the bed. “Please, you can heal her, can’t you?”

  “We’ll do our best.” Elkan hesitated a moment, drew a deep breath, and extended his hand. Golden light poured out and engulfed Bethiav’s body.

  Even the orange light from the fire couldn’t disguise the chalky pallor of Elkan’s face. His hand shook as the Mother’s light faded. He looked up at the ring of expectant faces.

  “She’s…” He cleared his voice, and tried again. “She’s suffering from a disease that wizards call diabetes. There’s… there’s nothing we can do.”

  Blank uncomprehending looks met his statement. Sairna frowned at him. “But if you know what it is, the Mother’s power should be able to fix it.”

  He seated himself on the edge of the bed and folded Sairna’s hands in his. “It’s not that simple.” His voice was low and rough. “It’s a confusing disease; we can feel what’s going on, but it’s hard to understand. Wizards have spent a long time studying it. There’s a substance in the blood, we don’t know exactly what it does, but the body has to have it, otherwise it’s like they’re starving, even though they have plenty to eat. There’s an organ just below the stomach that makes it. Sometimes, we don’t know why, the parts that make this substance start to die. By the time a patient shows symptoms, almost all of it is dead. And the Mother’s power can’t reverse death.”

  Elkan swallowed. “The body doesn’t grow more of this particular part, so there’s no healing to accelerate. We can stop the last little bit from dying, and cause it to make the substance faster than it normally would. But it’s only enough if we catch it very early, as soon as the symptoms start. By the time a patient enters a coma—” His voice broke. “I’m so sorry.”

  Sairna was very still. She pulled her hands from Elkan’s and turned away from him, looking instead at her daughter’s pale face. “You’re saying that… she’s going to die.”

  Elkan shut his eyes. “Yes.”

  Murmurs of disbelief and horror ran around the room, but Sairna ignored them. “And there’s nothing you can do?”

  “We can ease any discomfort, though since she’s unconscious she doesn’t feel anything. Maybe slow the process a little…”

  Sairna shook her head. “Please. Leave. I want to be alone with her. Gilon, stay please, but everyone else… just go.”

  Slowly, they complied. Hanan led a weeping Tiah outside. Tersira met Fibor at the door, and he whispered the news to her. She clutched his hand. Adrel marched out, stony faced. Josiah trailed behind Elkan as he made his way reluctantly toward the door. Before he left, Elkan looked back. Sairna gathered Bethiav in her arms and rocked back and forth, her eyes closed. Gilon went to her side and put his arms around her. He looked at Elkan, pain naked on his face, and gave a little nod. Elkan turned and went through the door.

  Outside, Josiah stood awkwardly, not knowing what to do. Tobi came and twined around his legs. He dropped to his knees and put his arms around her neck, burying his face in her fur, surrounded by her warm musky scent.

  Eventually he looked up. Elkan stood, breathing deeply, hands twined in Sar’s mane. Tiah scrubbed at her eyes with her sleeve,
patted Hanan’s hand, and pulled away. “No use all of us standing around out here in the dark. Everyone come up to the house. I’ll warm us up something to eat. Gilon can come fetch us when… if we’re needed.”

  Everyone nodded and drew together into a knot, seeking the comfort of their family’s closeness as they walked down the path to the other house. But as Elkan moved to take his place in the cluster, Adrel stepped in his way. “I think you should leave.”

  Elkan stopped. “Father? I can’t go; we need to stay nearby in case Bethiav needs us. Besides, I want to be with all of you…”

  Adrel shook his head. “You’ve already said there was nothing you can do. Tersira, go get anything they left in the wagon.”

  Tiah raised her voice in protest. “Elkan, don’t listen to him. Of course you must stay. Adrel, stop this nonsense.”

  “Nonsense?” Adrel’s voice rose dangerously high. “It’s wizardry that’s nonsense. Nothing but charlatans, the lot of them. What have they ever offered us but false hopes and disappointment? I’ll not have one under my roof, nor on the land I hold in trust.”

  Tiah faced her husband, drawing herself up to her full diminutive height. “It’s my land and my roof as well, and Elkan is our son.”

  Adrel didn’t budge. “Not as long as he remains a part of that mockery of a guild.”

  Tiah’s jaw trembled, and tears wet her face, but she didn’t back down. “Would you force me to chose between the two of you? I never thought our bond could be broken—”

  “Don’t, Mother,” Elkan cut in, laying a hand on her arm. “It’s not worth it. I’ll go.” He stared hard at his father. “You’re wrong, Father, but I won’t fight with you. Josiah, come with me.” He followed Tersira. With a apprehensive look back at Adrel, she led him toward the barn where she’d taken the wagon. Josiah trailed behind.

  Fibor came with them. “Look, Elkan, come stay at our house. Father has no right—”

  “No.” Elkan shook his head. “It’s better this way. The last thing any of you need is for me to stay and be a source of conflict. And there’s no need to cause a break between you and Father, as well.” Elkan busied himself reloading Sar’s gear; Josiah hurried to help. “We’ll camp near the first crossroads. You’ll bring us word, when…”