by Guy Antibes
Timor Saddlebug entered the room. He was a very short man, shorter than Trak, with balding gray hair and a bit of a paunch. The tie that circled his neck was loosely tied, showing a grimy collar and he smelled. The man badly needed a bath.
“Sit,” he said, curtly. “There is another student. We will begin when she arrives.”
Trak had forgotten that Coffun had said he would have to share ‘Timmy’ with someone else. At this point, he would willingly give time up to another person. ‘Timmy’ did not look friendly at all.
He sat down and a few minutes later, the door opened and the bell rang at the same time. Trak turned around and there stood Valanna Sleekbottle.
“You!” she said and broke into a smile.
“I hope you meant that as a good thing,” Trak said, smiling back.
“I do. We can…” She stopped when Timor Saddlebug stalked in with a scowl on his face. When he looked at Valanna, the scowl disappeared, replaced by a smile showing a mouth filled with rotting teeth. Quite frankly, Trak preferred the scowl. If Podor Feely counted this man as a friend, Trak shuddered to think what kind of man Feely was.
“So, the both of you are here. We shall get started. I will assume you know nothing and we will work our way through the history and geography of Pestle and the larger neighbors that make up our world. What are your names and where in Pestle are you from?”
“I am Trak Bluntwithe from…”
“Stand when you answer a question, young man.”
Trak rose and stood at attention. “I am from Greenbrook, a village west of here.”
Saddlebug gave Trak a disagreeable look. “I am the teacher, here. You don’t need to tell me where Greenbrook is. And you, Miss?”
Valanna rose from her chair and straightened her dress. “I am Valanna Sleekbottle. I have recently arrived from northern Warish, close to Pestle’s border. I wish to relocate to Pestledown and need to learn about my new country.” She sat down when Saddleback pointed to the chair with his finger.
“My turn. I am Timor Saddlebug, your tutor. My friends call me Tim, but you can call me Scholar Saddlebug. This course takes four to six months depending how quickly you learn. I lecture for one and one-half hours each day and give you homework that needs to be completed before our next meeting. I do take two days off per week. Sixday and Sevenday. If you wish to finish the course sooner than later, I will provide you additional homework for those two days.”
Saddlebug walked to his desk and picked up two dog-eared books and plopped one on each of their desks. “These are on loan from me. You will not mark in them or I will charge Feely for them. At the end of our time together, you will have sufficient knowledge to move on to the second of three levels of learning in my subjects that you will need to learn for entrance into the University.”
Trak looked over at Valanna, who frowned for the briefest of moments.
The tutor rubbed his hands together. “We shall get started, shall we?” He went to the slate board and began to write out basic geographic terms.
Trak retrieved a portfolio from his bag and pulled out a piece of paper and began to draw pictures as he concentrated on Saddlebug… he couldn’t think of him as that, so he’d think of him as Timmy although he would be anything but a friend with the man. He kept his work out of sight from Timmy, but he caught Valanna peering over at this work. She had no trouble with her letters.
After an exhausting session, Trak followed Valanna out the door.
“You’re going to have a lot of trouble in this class,” she said.
He shook his head. “My morning course is on reading and writing. Leaf is much nicer.”
“Leaf, eh?” Valiant looked at him sideways. “Is she pretty?”
Trak thought back. “Pretty enough for a forty-year-old tutor. Why do you ask?”
She laughed. Trak liked her laugh. “Just kidding. Why don’t we do our homework together? I think I’d like some help with Honor Fidelia’s poses and you’ll need real notes. I suppose we can have our magic sessions before Scholar Muddlebug.”
“Saddlebug.” Trak said.
“I know.” They both laughed. Trak felt wonderful laughing with a pretty girl about something they were both involved in.
“When should we get together?”
“How about now? My guardian is away right now and I have nothing to do this evening.”
“I have private rooms over the tackroom at The Looking Inn. We can study there. No chaperones, I’m afraid.”
Valanna thought for a moment. “I’m not afraid of chaperones. If they aren’t present, I have no reputation to protect. Let’s do that.”
It didn’t take them too long to reach Trak’s rooms. “It’s not much.”
“It’s yours and it’s very clean.” She knocked on a wall. “No noisy neighbors.”
“If I make magical mistakes like I did this morning, I’ll be the noisy neighbor,” Trak said. He plopped his book bag on the table and adjusted its position. “So, what do I do?”
“We really shouldn’t cheat, should we?”
Trak shook his head, not understanding what she said.
“Then interpret your drawings and I’ll write them down. If you didn’t get it all, we can discuss it. Will that work?”
Trak grinned. “Works for me.”
They went to work and it only took them half an hour to get written notes from Trak’s sketches. Valanna got up. “I need to be going. I pass by Honor’s shop on the way to my guardian’s house and I will confirm to her that we can meet with her the same time as today. Would you mind?”
“I don’t mind at all. Her dancing studio makes me uncomfortable.”
Valanna giggled. “I like her shop with all of those pretty dresses all over the place. By the way, you can call me Val, that’s what my friends used to call me when I had friends.” Trak noticed the sigh. “Scholar Muddlebug can call me Miss Sleekbottle!”
~~~
Chapter Six
TRAK SAT AT BREAKFAST. He always had time for a leisurely meal before Leaf’s course. He’d learned quite a bit in two weeks. He could now read short words and could sound out almost everything else. She had exercised a lot of patience and Trak appreciated it by doing occasional odd jobs around her flat. He still missed working at the inn and the opportunities it gave him to make everything into a form, but he couldn’t do that now. He wondered how his father fared without him, but Trak had already learned more about Pestle and his letters than he had ever expected to and there was much more to come. He had the opportunity to spend a considerable amount of time with a very pretty girl every day, even if she was a year or so older. Life had turned out okay in Pestle after a rough start.
Coffun Cricket came by and sat at his table while the innkeeper cleared a table. “Esmera? I’ll have whatever my friend Master Bluntwithe is about to eat.”
She waved to Coffun from across the room and shooed a serving maid to the kitchens.
“How are ye doing, my boy?”
Now that he had been taking a few more language sessions, he realized that Coffun’s you’s and ye’s weren’t very consistent. “I feel like I’m making progress on all fronts.” He wouldn’t tell him about his magic lessons, of course.
“Good, good. His Highness requests the pleasure of your company as soon as ye are able. If you would permit me a good breakfast in your company, I will walk with ye to our palace.”
Trak laughed. “I’d be happy to. I’ve got to retrieve my books, so if you don’t mind, I’d like to show you my rooms.”
“The stable flat?” Coffun said.
“Yes, you know of it?”
The old man smiled. “I do. I once inhabited this fine inn while between more permanent accommodations. If Esmera had offered me your rooms, I’d probably still be living in them.”
The way he said it, Trak didn’t believe him, but he could tell Coffun was in a teasing mood.
“I consider myself lucky, sir.”
Coffun nodded. “And ye should! Ah, her
e are the vittles.” He ate like a man many years his junior and in a few minutes, Coffun followed Trak up the stairs to his flat.
“Much as I remember it but cleaner and more orderly,” Coffun said as he inspected Trak’s flat. “You could live here for some time, I reckon.”
“Until I go to University, I suppose. Don’t they live at the University?”
“They do, they do,” Coffun said. “Get your things. Let’s not keep His Nibs waiting.”
Coffun walked faster than Trak thought he’d be able to as they threaded their way through the busy morning streets of Pestledown. He nearly ran up the stairs, leaving Trak a few steps behind. Trak walked into the PPO offices for the third time in his life. The door on the left was wide open. He remembered both doors behind Coffun’s desk had been closed before.
Coffun stuck his head in the office. “Trak Bluntwithe to see you, Mister Feely.”
“Send him in Coffun.”
Trak walked into a garish office. The walls were covered with a red satin cloth with black-flocked flowers of some kind. Feely’s desk was painted white and trimmed with gold accents. The man himself was overdressed for anything Trak had yet seen on the streets of Pestle. He wore a blue velvet coat with lace cuffs flowing over his hands. A matching blue lace cravat cascaded down the front of his coat. He had a very high forehead with black hair plastered to his skull.
He reminded Trak of the lawyer’s chief clerk, Snively, except where Snively seemed competent in what he did, Feely was foppish, if that was the right word; a dandy playing at his job. Now he understood Coffun’s noble references to Feely. The old man must laugh behind his back all day long.
“Sit, noble Bluntwithe,” Feely said. The man graced Trak with a smile. “Tell me how have your first few weeks gone.”
“Very well, sir. I think I will do fine. Leaf, uh, Leaf Gougepenny has me reading a few words already. Scholar Saddlebug is reviewing the geography of Pestle. I am familiar with most of the places within our country, so it helps that I am still learning my letters.”
Feely nodded. “I am disappointed that you found lodgings without using my superb sources. Should your current situation change at The Looking Inn, don’t hesitate to contact Mr. Cricket and he might direct you to my own superior properties.” The man smiled the most insincere smile that Trak remembered ever seeing. As long as he learned enough to pass his University exams in a few years, he could endure an occasional interview with the man. “Nice to meet you, Bluntwithe.” Feely rose from his chair and didn’t offer his hand, but bowed. He was taller than Blunt, quite a collection of gangling bones held together with expensive cloth, but Trak did notice a rather round protruding belly. His body reminded Trak of some kind of hideous spider.
“I won’t hesitate to contact Mr. Cricket, Sir. Thank you.” Trak returned Feely’s bow with a little bow of his own. He hoped he had shown enough grace. He suspected that Feely would not be a man to cross, but that wouldn’t keep him from hanging on to his rooms at Esmera’s inn.
Feely gave Trak a shooing motion with his hand. “Shut the door on your way out. Good fortune to you, young man.”
Trak gave him another little bow as he shut the office door. He found himself sweating a bit more than he intended. Coffun nodded and quietly said, “Good job. He’ll want you to check in every month or so. I’d hold onto Esmera’s flat as long as you possibly can.”
“I will,” Trak said. “I’ll be seeing you.”
Coffun smiled enigmatically. “You will. You will.”
~
Honor waited at the door for Trak to enter. They had just finished the third month of instruction and Trak had prepared himself to ask to learn more than a pose a month.
“Have you seen Valanna yet?” She looked very concerned. “I received this note, but it’s addressed to you.”
“No. I don’t see her until our session in your shop.” Trak said as he opened the note.
“It says: I’ll be missing our session today. Mr. Saddlebug wants to test me,” Trak slowly said. He was rather proud that he could read the note.
“I’m afraid for her,” the witch said.
“You should be. She always calls him Timmy or Mr. Muddlebug. Val didn’t write this note. She seemed just fine when I left her at half-past five yesterday,” Trak said. Honor shot him an accusing glare.
“We have a course in the afternoon together and then we study together at my rooms.”
“That’s pretty fast for a country boy,” Honor said. He clearly heard the disapproval in her tone.
“It’s not what you might think.” Trak shot her an angry glance. “I’m learning how to read. I have to sketch out the lectures and she transcribes my notes. Then if we have any time, I help her with poses.”
Honor blinked. “So that’s how she improved. I wondered about that. Good for you, boy.” Her face darkened again. “Now what do we do about her.”
Trak didn’t know what he could do. “Who is her guardian? Maybe we should check with him first.”
“Podor Feely,” Honor said. Trak could see the worry on her face mirror his own. “He is a despicable man, but she said he was her uncle’s cousin.”
“He knows about the magic?”
Honor nodded as her face darkened, even further.
“That’s not good. I don’t trust him either. I’ll go see Coffun. I imagine we can cancel instruction today?” He left a gold coin with Honor for the next month’s tuition.
~
Coffun shook his head. “I didn’t know Feely had a ward, much less a cousin.” Podor Feely was, of course, absent from the office.
“Could he be in league with Timmy?”
Coffun shook his head, again. “Very probably. Saddlebug is a drinking companion. Two of a kind, they are. Predators of women in a sense, I think. I’d run along and see if she’s at Timmy’s house. His Highness wouldn’t do anything untoward in his own place; too many servants are required to serve his needs. Run to the constabulary if you need to, there is one along the road to the north.”
Trak didn’t know if he could leave Val alone with Saddlebug for any longer, much less summon constables, who might or might not believe his story. He ran to Saddlebug’s school. He peered into the window and observed an empty schoolroom. He couldn’t open the locked door and stepped back from the door and looked at the buildings on either side before he ran around the block to the alley. He counted the different shops and found the one with the brick that matched Saddlebug’s school.
He walked through the unlocked gate and picked up a small log on a pile of uncut firewood. The back door opened for him. Why would he lock the front and not the back? Trak shook his head. This seemed to be a trap. Why would they want to trap him, especially using Val as bait?
Neither Podor or Timmy struck him as physically intimidating on their own, but if they fought him as one, Trak didn’t know if he could defeat them. He had to save Val so he would use his magic if he had to.
He heard the voices upstairs, so he carefully ascended the steps. The top of the stairs ended in a room. He poked his head above the railing and didn’t see anyone, but now he could hear Saddlebug speaking. Was that Val’s voice?
“Give me a kiss,” Saddlebug said.
“No,” the voice was muffled.
Trak looked through the crack in the door next to the hinges. Saddlebug stood over Val. She had her hands and legs bound and her mouth covered with a gag. Why would he ask her to kiss him if her mouth was covered? Something wasn’t right, here.
He gripped his makeshift club and pushed the door open with it, not stepping into the room.
Another club swung down without connecting with him. Trak knocked it out of his assailant’s hand.
He heard a yell and realized it was Podor Feely.
“Let her go,” Trak said as he automatically assumed a form to swing his club into Feely’s stomach, and then smashed it into Feely’s face with less force, nevertheless breaking his nose. The man put his hands up to fend off the enraged T
rak and probably broke both of his arms protecting himself from Trak’s wrath. The boy had to take a deep breath to keep from killing the now-comatose Feely, and then pointed the club at Saddlebug.
“I won’t teach you anymore.” Saddlebug said with a huff, but he didn’t hesitate to untie Val.
Podor’s eyes barely opened. “Beanmouth will hear of this,” he said through his bloody mouth.
“The abduction of your cousin’s daughter? It sounds like slavery to me. Val is leaving right now. Don’t try to stop me.”
Podor sneered at him. “Your time with my organization has come to an end.” His eyes closed again. Trak could see a spasm of pain hit the man and then he fainted again.
“As well it should,” Trak said. Quite honestly, he didn’t know what he would do and that drew some fear into his mind, but he looked at Val’s frightened face. Timmy hadn’t yet removed her gag, but that didn’t matter. “Go down the stairs, out the back and run to where we study,” he said. He guarded the door from the bedroom until long after she had left the building.
Timmy glared at Trak. “So you think you’re someone extra special. There are other ways to take care of people like you.” Timmy picked up the cudgel that Podor had hoped to use and began to swipe at Trak. He swung and clipped Trak’s arm.
Stupid, Trak thought. He assumed a ready stance and began to spar with Timmy, easily defeating the smaller man’s defenses until Timmy lay on the floor of the bedroom as bruised and as out of it as Feely. All of Trak’s work with the weapons forms had given him the ability to slide from a reaction to a blow to a controlled response. He shouldn’t have been so eager to use his forms against Feely and Timmy, but it proved that all of the work he had done for years had paid off.
Trak had done something foolhardy and stupid, but he had saved his classmate and it felt well worthwhile to defend her as well as know that all of that form work paid off.
~
Trak paced back and forth in his rooms. Val still cried in his bedroom with the door closed. She must have sequestered herself there as soon as she entered. He’d have to have words with Esmera. Without reimbursement from the PPO, he would be evicted soon enough. Val couldn’t stay in his rooms either. His vast experience as a stableboy didn’t give him any help in figuring out what to do.
