by Brian Keller
Birt paused to let this new information sink in. Then, feeling he had done his duty, he abruptly brightened and said, “The breakfast bell should be ringing any minute now, and you do not want to miss out on our sausages!”.
Birt had spoken the truth. He was certain he had never tasted anything so delicious. He had eaten meat before, sure. But these were fresh and moist with a slightly crisp skin, and if you weren’t careful when you bit into one a little dribble of juices would drip down your chin. Birt had taken him through the line and helped him fill his plate with what he wanted. And fill his plate he did. Cooper had never seen so much food in one place all at the same time. He had rushed to a table to sit down and had started shoveling food into his mouth as if it was a competition. Many of the others in the dining hall put down their silverware to watch the show. Birt stood across the table from him and surveyed the others in the room, smiled at them apologetically and said quietly, by way of explanation, “First day… newly arrived.” He then leaned across the table toward Cooper and muttered, “Look around the room. No one is going to try to steal your food from you.” By the time Birt had finished speaking, most diners had picked up their silverware and returned their attention to their own breakfast. Cooper glanced around, hearing the subdued clatter of silverware on plates, and realized what a different figure he was presenting compared to everyone around him as he sat hunched over his plate, breadcrumbs sticking to the juices running down his chin, a biscuit in one hand and a half-eaten sausage gripped tightly in his other grimy fist. He realized, with some embarrassment, that he hadn’t even considered getting a knife and fork from one of the bins over by the food. Apparently Birt had noticed, as he slid a set across the table to Cooper before sitting down and arranging his own plate, mug and utensils.
Since the passing of his mother, there hadn’t been much occasion to use eating utensils other than a wooden spoon for eating the porridge Skaiven had provided. His mother had taught him how to eat properly but it’s no surprise to discover how quickly those lessons are forgotten when there’s no plate, no fork, and rarely any food. Cooper stood, walked over to a bucket of water near the door to the kitchen. The water was mostly clean and clear. Cooper dunked his hands into it. He used his hands to wipe off his chin, then wiped his chin with his sleeve and dried his hands on his pant legs. He returned to sit at the table, picked up the utensils Birt had thoughtfully provided him and began to eat.
During breakfast Birt spoke very little. In fact, the only thing he really did say was, “After breakfast, I’ll take you to the Quartermaster. He’ll have a set of clothes that’ll fit you.”
Cooper thought that for a guy that handed out clothes, this guy needed a new set himself. He looked more like a blacksmith than someone that tended a room that looked like a combination of clothing store and curiosity shop. As Birt selected a tunic and breeches that looked to be Cooper’s size, he looked over at the Quartermaster, “Good morning, Master Loril. Cooper here just arrived this morning. We just need to find him a set of clothes then we’ll be out of your way.” Master Loril was a hulk of a man, but not at all fat. He appeared to be the perfect embodiment of a guild enforcer. A multitude of scars crisscrossed their way up both his arms, and a few had even found homes on his shoulders and torso. Long, dark, slightly greasy hair framed his fleshy face and square jaw. He was bare chested except for a leather sash that went across from right shoulder to left waist. Well, bare chested was merely an expression. He had heard of animals called bears, and if bears were mythical beasts then Master Loril must’ve been how the myths got started. He was covered in hair, both front and back. He was also bathed in sweat; enough so that beads of it had formed pathways through the soot and grime that covered him and most of the hairs on his chest and belly looked singed. Cooper realized that his initial assessment of blacksmith was likely completely accurate. The regular clanging and ringing that was coming from the other side of one of the walls did nothing to discourage that notion. Master Loril merely grunted and turned to go through a door, toward where all the clanging was coming from, then he turned and came back to where the boys were standing. Master Loril towered over the boys and his eyes raked Cooper from head to toe. Cooper couldn’t help but compare his eyes to Skaiven’s. They had very similar qualities. In an unexpectedly clear voice Master Loril said, “I’ve been hearing whispers this morning. Show me your token.” Cooper looked at Birt, who nodded. He reached into a pouch and revealed the cat’s eye token. Master Loril grunted again, a grunt that had a small note of surprise and affirmation in it. Cooper had been living on the street for half his life or more, but he still found it remarkable how much could be communicated without ever saying a word. Master Loril said, “Wait right here.”, and he turned to walk to some shelves and racks in the back of the room. Birt had set aside a few sets of clothes for him to look through and make his choices, but Cooper was keeping his eyes on Master Loril. The huge man had pawed through the racks and shelves for less than a minute before he turned and strode back to where the boys were ‘shopping’. He offered a bundle of items to Cooper. Birt had stopped searching through clothes and was gazing at the proceedings. Cooper was uncertain whether he should take the bundle or not. Master Loril noticed his hesitation and said, “I know who that token belongs to. He doesn’t have too many friends here but he’s never shown me anything but respect and appreciation. I don’t know how you’ll do here, but I wouldn’t want you starting out completely disadvantaged.” He opened the bundle which contained three items: a belt, a proper belt, but it looked like it had metal threading along the edges, a pouch with strings that looked like they were made of the same metal as the threading except it was a bunch of threads woven together, and a blade. The dagger had a very narrow blade polished to a silvery gleam. There was a sheath for the blade already on the belt. Master Loril said, “There are plenty of people here that’ll teach you the proper use of that blade but if you don’t find anyone willing, come back and see me. Perhaps we can work something out.”. Cooper’s voice was shaking but he had to voice his thoughts, “Thank you, sir. But I can’t pay you for this.”. The look the big man gave him made him wonder how he could have compared his eyes to Skaiven’s, but he knew that he had seen correctly before, he couldn’t mistake something like that. Master Loril smiled ever so slightly, “We’ll say that it’s ‘on account’. Pay me later, whenever you can, and it probably isn’t as much as you think. That blade is just one of what’s supposed to be a pair of matching blades. Anyone who knows that wouldn’t be very interested in buying just one of them, would they? Anyway, perhaps once you’ve risen in the ranks you’ll remember that I showed you a kindness, eh?”. Cooper nodded solemnly as he accepted the large man’s generosity. The giant added, “I’d consider putting your token inside that pouch. With those cords, on that belt, you won’t be losing it ‘accidentally’, hmm?”.
He had found a tunic and pants that suited him and seemed both durable and comfortable. They’d also dug through several pairs of boots and shoes but the only ones that fit he rejected. They were so completely stiff that the soles almost wouldn’t bend. He couldn’t imagine trying to walk in boots like those. As he had been trying them on for size, Birt informed him, “Next we’ll go back to the Copyist’s Room, or our classroom, and start our lessons. We’ll be arriving late, but Master Worthan already knows why that is so we won’t be counted a tardy.”. Cooper had raised an eyebrow in question. Birt explained, “Tardy means ‘being late with no suitable excuse for it’.” Cooper rolled his eyes, “I know what Tardy means, but if we’re to be coming and going all day anyway, what difference would it make if we’re late?”. Birt considered that for a few seconds then smiled, “You may have a valid point, and I’d suggest that you take that up with Master Worthan but only because I’d like to see what happens next,”. Birt’s smile got wider as he imagined the scene, and before he was finished his smile was actually revealing a nice row of gleaming teeth. Cooper’s only reply was to secure his new belt around his wai
st, from it hung two pouches and his new blade. He gathered up his old belongings, turned to Birt and asked, “Should I take time to bathe?”. A glint was in Birt’s eye and he cleared his throat before he replied, while tilting his head back so he had to look down his nose to see Cooper, “I can only speak for myself, but I most decidedly wish you would.”. Cooper was chuckling as he gave Birt a nudge that put him against the door frame as they left the room.
Chapter 6
Birt entered the classroom fifteen minutes later with a freshly-scrubbed Cooper right behind him. Cooper had walked, crouched and crept along the walls on the way to the classroom. Birt had been rolling his eyes at him as they made their way. He had felt he needed to test the fit of his new clothes, much to Birt’s amusement.
As they entered the classroom, all scribbling stopped and heads turned to look at them. Master Worthan looked over, “Ah! Mister Tolbirt, Mister Cooper! How good to see you. All has gone well, I assume?” Birt nodded, “I believe so, Master Worthan. And I believe that mister Cooper has a ques.. ow!” Cooper had stepped on Birt’s foot to shut him up. Master Worthan shifted his gaze to Cooper, “And do you feel that you have a grasp of your current circumstances, Mister Cooper?”. He nodded and replied, “I think so, sir. But I’m sure to have many more questions. Birt has been very helpful.” Cooper figured it couldn’t cost him anything to be complimentary. He was wrong. Cooper heard a boy sitting a few seats forward and over a row chuckle and mutter, “Looks like little Birt has found himself a boyfriend.”, bringing a soft titter of laughter from the nearby students. Master Worthan looked in that boy’s direction and all chatter stopped. Master Worthan’s voice carried very clearly in the quiet room, “It might interest some of you to know whose token rests in that boys pouch, but I am sure that rumors will abound over the coming days. I am no Seer, but I’d suggest that someone far more skilled than yourselves has seen potential in this boy. A potential that you’d all do well to heed.”. Cooper wasn’t sure if he should feel grateful or worried at the Master’s words. Regardless, now every head in the room turned to get a look at Cooper.
Master Worthan told the room, “Boys, return to your studies. Mister Cooper, please find your way to an empty seat and occupy it.” As soon as he was seated, Master Worthan brought several sheets of parchment, a few with some writing on it, but most were blank. He waited for Master Worthan to explain what was expected of him. As soon as the papers were placed on his desk, the old man began to speak in a hushed tone, “Can you read and write, Mister Cooper?”. He affirmed that he could. Master Worthan smiled and said, “That’s fine. Hopefully you won’t be too bored today. Do you understand numbers? Can you add and subtract?”. He replied that he could add and subtract small amounts in his head, and count money, but he didn’t really understand numbers. They were just markings on a paper to him. Master Worthan smiled again and said, “That’s fine. That puts you already more advanced than a third of the students in this room. Can you calculate how many people that is?”. Cooper realized what the Master had done with that, he’d just been posed a practical math question. He quickly tallied up how many students in the room, about twenty plus or minus one or two. His mother had told him about multiplication and division but any time she tried showing him with numbers on a paper it never made sense, but when she showed him using grains of wheat, or something he could see and touch, it was easy. He replied right away, “About seven, sir.”. The Master nodded, “Very good, Mister Cooper. Alright. On those pages are a series of questions. Each of the questions is numbered, meaning there is a number at the beginning of each question. That number has no bearing on the question other than to identify it. On a blank sheet of paper, copy the number of the question you’re answering and then write your answer after the number. This might help you understand the sequence of numbers as well. Answer the questions in order, and if you find you’re unable to answer a question for some reason, stop, and raise your hand. When I see a student raising their hand, I know they need assistance and can come help them. Do you have any questions or are you ready to begin?”. Cooper thought, ‘I have plenty of questions, but not necessarily about this.’. He did have one question though, “So these questions aren’t just to see if I can read and write, they’re to see if I understand what I’m reading and can write the answer?”. Master Worthan looked a little disappointed, “Correct, but I had thought that would be patently obvious. If you have no other questions, I’ll leave you to it, Mister Cooper.”. Cooper looked at the sheet on top and saw the question had a big number “1.” at the beginning of it. He didn’t understand numbers very well but he knew that’s where the sequence started. He started reading down the page and then on to the second page. As he read through them he saw that the questions got more and more involved. The first question was ‘What color is a ripe cherry?’, by the end of the second page the questions was, “28. Explain how someone can correctly estimate the age of a tree.”, and by the end of page three, “40. Explain how a wheel works.” Cooper was thinking that it would be easier for him to answer question #40 than for him to answer question #28, but Master Worthan had told him to answer them in order. He returned to the first question, positioned a blank sheet of parchment, dipped his quill in ink and wrote, “1. Red”.
It took Cooper just over an hour to get to question #28 and he raised his hand. Master Worthan walked over to Cooper, leaned over his table and asked, “How may I assist you, Mister Cooper?”. Cooper said, “Sir, I understand the question but I just don’t know the answer. I could just write something like ‘the bigger it is, the older it is’, but that’s not the same as a correct estimate of age.”. Master Worthan stood up straight, appeared to be looking far away for a moment then looked back at Cooper and said, “You are correct. Skip to question #29.” He then turned and walked away. Cooper caught himself thinking, ‘Now that was unexpected…!’, and proceeded to #29. Cooper had answered three more questions when the door to the Scrivener’s shop opened and a scribe poked his head in and gestured for Master Worthan to step over to him. They shared a brief conversation and as the scribe withdrew from the room Master Worthan turned to the students and called out, “Mister Birt, Mister Cooper, you have a delivery.”. Cooper thought he heard a little high-pitched sing-song noise come from the boy that had made the ‘boyfriend’ insult earlier. It resulted in a few snorts from nearby students who promptly tried to play it off as if a half dozen of them needed to cough all at the same time. Master Worthan looked over in the direction of the disruption but otherwise didn’t react. Birt got up from his seat and turned his paper over. Cooper had been watching to see what Birt would do, and he copied Birt’s movements. Master Worthan called out, “Mister Cooper, bring your papers to me, if you please. I will review your work while you’re gone.” Cooper hurried to comply and followed Birt from the room.
Cooper followed Birt to the front counter. The scribe behind the counter handed Birt a yellow sash with a circle clasp on it. Birt took it and pulled it over his head so the sash rested on his right shoulder and hung down to the left. Birt unhooked the clasp and adjusted the length so the sash hung down on the left only to his belt and re-hooked the clasp. In the meantime, the scribe had handed an identical sash to Cooper. “A new arrival, eh? I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Garus.” He didn’t extend his hand. The man wore the same robes as everyone else working in the room, a deep brown. His oily black hair was smoothly combed straight backward and was chopped off cleanly at collar level. His thick, black eyebrows made a strong division between the man’s forehead and his face. His eyes were a dark brown that, at the moment, seemed to possess a hunger. His nose was a bit too long to match the rest of his features, except for his chin which seemed to jut forward a half inch beyond his lower lip. His lips were curled in a frozen smile. Cooper looked up at Garus and felt somewhat uncomfortable under his avid scrutiny. Cooper busied himself trying to determine the method of adjusting his sash. Garus’s voice took on a tone that sounded like honey, “Here, let me help you with tha
t.”, and he moved to step around the counter. Birt had finished his adjustments quickly and turned towards Cooper, “No need, Garus. I’m right here. I can help him. Thanks”. Something about Birt’s tone didn’t sound like appreciation. Birt showed Cooper how to quickly make the needed adjustments. It was pretty simple actually, like a belt with a removable buckle. Garus told Birt the location for the delivery and handed him a copper tube. Before Birt had turned away fully from the counter Garus spoke to Cooper once more, “It is customary for whoever receives a message to tip the courier two copper pieces. One of those pieces gets paid to the cashier in this office upon your return the other remains with the courier. Since there are two of you, and you are only following along to learn, Mister Birt will be receiving the tips. I wanted to clarify that before you left, since if you heard this for the first time coming from Birt as he was pocketing the coins you might feel resentful.”. Birt turned to face the man behind the counter, “That was very thoughtful of you, Mister Garus. Thank you.”. This time, Birt actually managed to sound genuine.
Walking through the streets of the Trade Quarter felt different now, Cooper realized it probably had something to do with the fact that he wasn’t there to steal pouches and purses. After they had walked about a half block, Birt’s voice took a warning tone, “Try to never let yourself be in a room, by yourself, with missster Garus.”. The “mister” came out like Birt was trying to spit. Cooper thought about that for a minute and thought he understood. He figured that it might not really matter, since it should be easy enough to take Birt’s advice at face value without further explanation. Cooper had already determined there was definitely something creepy about Mister Garus.
