The Apprentice (17 page)

A second
misstep forced Rowan to look ahead so he could keep his footing. Eliza firmly
led him away from throne room and along a different path through the corridors
than he remembered taking with Baird. Rowan marveled at the size and grandness
of the palace, though he kept such admirations to himself. He would not give
the princess the satisfaction of complimenting the palace that she claimed.

They
walked in silence until, finally, they reached the gardens. Rowan had expected
them to be outside, but he found himself in a massive courtyard that stood open
to the elements. There were many plants of various sizes and colors and types.
A few he recognized, but many he did not. He wondered if perhaps there were
other gardens outside the walls of the castle, or if the South could only grow
gardens of a size that could be contained inside. The courtyard was indeed
large and spacious, so much so that at least a dozen people could be present at
once and yet each of them could feel alone, but to Rowan it felt confined.

Rowan
waited impatiently for the princess to say something, but she seemed intent on
ignoring him.
Fine. It is not as though I have any wish to speak with her,
Rowan thought. He angled his body so he was facing away from her and tried to
admire the garden scenery. It really was quite beautiful.

But
Rowan found it hard to enjoy himself in her presence. He wished that he had
been allowed to wander on his own if he was not to attend Baird while his
master spoke with the king. The press of her elbow against his ribs and the
pull of her arm as she led where it pleased her kept him on edge. She refused
to release him, making his blood run hot.

Rowan
decided to chance a glance in her direction to see if she was even paying him
any attention. Though she kept her arm looped through his, she otherwise acted
as though he did not exist.

As he
observed, Rowan could not help but admire her. She had long, curly blond hair
that seemed to shine in the sunlight. Were he ignorant of her personality, he
would have considered her beautiful. She was close enough to his own age.

Why
am I thinking about her like this,
Rowan thought.
Beauty does not justify her attitude
. He banished the
thought from his head.

Feeling
angry and annoyed, Rowan decided that the silence between them had gone on long
enough.

“Weren’t
you to show me around in a friendly manner?” Rowan stopped walking and turned
towards the princess, planting his feet firmly so that she could not ignore
him. Rowan knew that he was antagonizing her, but he could not help himself.
Her reaction to his presence and the way that she treated him was unjustified.

Princess
Eliza halted and turned towards him without releasing his arm, bringing her
uncomfortably close. She stared up at him without speaking, her eyes cold and
her lips pursed in a thin line.

“I am
showing you around the grounds, because it was asked of me and it is expected
of me. I am a princess. But you are lowborn, a commoner who has set his sights
higher than he has a right to. I do not know how you forced Baird to take you
on as an apprentice, but you will not last. Baird may accept you, and my father
may allow Baird to keep you, but I do not accept you. You are a poorly chosen
apprentice; a mistake.”

The
princess’ remark made Rowan recoil. He retreated a step, pulling his arm from
hers as she stared at him coldly. Rowan still doubted his position as Baird’s
apprentice, especially now that they were back in the capitol where Baird had
other obligations. He remained silent, not wishing the princess to know that
her remark had wounded him.

But he
could tell by the look in her eyes that Eliza knew she had hurt him.
Surprisingly, she did not push the subject much further. “I do not think that
you deserve to be Baird’s apprentice,” she said, “and I doubt that you can
prove me wrong.”

With
that, Eliza turned and walked away, leaving Rowan alone.

Now on
his own, Rowan continued to walk around the gardens. He tried to occupy
himself, but he found it hard to pay attention to his surroundings. He wandered
aimlessly, letting his feet take him where they would.

He wound
up staring at a beautiful white tree that stood bare against the elements. It
stood raised above the ground, encircled by a rounded planter filled with soil.
The shade it offered felt nice and as he sat down beneath it and relaxed, he
realized that he finally had a moment for himself. He took in the scenery and
closed his eyes. He wished he had a quill and some parchment, since it was a
perfect time to write, something that he had not done since he left home. But
as he lacked the tools, Rowan instead chose to just enjoy the moment.

Chapter 14
                     
 

The sound of Baird’s voice made
Rowan start with surprise, causing him to nearly fall to the ground. He snapped
back into consciousness and opened his eyes, confused and disoriented. The last
Rowan could remember was walking with Eliza before she left him alone. After
that he remembered sitting down underneath a tree, where he must have dozed
off.

“Wake
up.” Baird’s voice came from right behind him. Rowan turned around just in time
to see a palm racing forwards to smack him on the brow, but not in time to stop
it. The hand connected with a crisp clapping sound and Rowan’s head snapped
back.

“Ow!”
Rowan cried out reflexively. “What was that for?”

“This is
a royal garden, not a pleasure garden and certainly not a place for you to
sleep. If you were tired, you should have asked Eliza to escort you back to the
bedchambers.”

Rowan
reddened.

“If I
wanted to find my way back, I would have done so on my own.”

“So you
say. Perhaps you might have asked another girl instead?”

“No,”
Rowan choked, making Baird laugh.

“Where
is the young princess? Eliza was supposed to be showing you around the gardens.
I had thought to find the pair of you but you seem to be quite alone.”

“She
left.” Rowan looked at Baird and reluctantly added, “I might have provoked her,
and after we exchanged words she walked off. I do not know where she is now.”

“That is
unfortunate, but not entirely unexpected. She was not too unkind, was she?”

“No,”
Rowan lied.

“Good.
Princess Eliza can be extremely quick to anger and her inability to temper her
emotions is one of her greatest flaws. I worried she would take her anger out
on you. She does not take well to change and for all that she says, she is
quite possessive of me.

“As she
will one day be your responsibility—your charge—it would not do for her to act
with hostility, though that much at least is to be expected. She really is
quite nice once she warms up to you and you get a chance to know her. She is
merely struggling to accept your presence and the changes that are to come.”

Rowan
nodded, remembering the moment she had walked away and how she had looked at
him. A peculiar expression had crossed her face, but she had turned away before
Rowan recognized it. He knew that it was not anger, though, and if he had to
make a guess, he would almost have thought it was sadness he had seen. But then
again, he was not even sure that he had seen anything at all and it was much
easier to ignore it and remain annoyed.

“What do
we do now?” Rowan asked. Though Rowan was talking about the current moment,
there was more on his mind and he truly wished for a more general answer that
would tell him what was to come.

They had
finally reached their destination, the capitol city of Estoria, but Rowan had
no idea what came next. There were things that needed to be done, but Rowan
wondered how involved he was going to be. After all, Baird had sent Rowan away
with Eliza when he talked with King Alden.

“At the
moment, there are no pressing matters that require attention.” Baird paused for
a moment. “I think I will show you around the rest of the castle. Eliza has
shown you the gardens, but there is much more to the castle grounds than this.
To be honest, I find the gardens to be quite dull. They are far too quiet and
isolated for my tastes.”

Rowan
welcomed Baird’s suggestion. The castle was something entirely new and exciting
to him, and Rowan wanted to see more of the wonders and secrets that it could
offer him.

“That
sounds interesting,” he said, getting up to follow his master out of the
gardens.

Baird
led Rowan around the grounds, giving him a sense of where things were. The
castle was even more vast than it appeared. Baird showed Rowan the library, the
armory, the great hall and the ballroom. The throne room Rowan had already
seen, but seeing it again gave Rowan a slightly better sense of where it was
within the castle. Baird led Rowan through the halls, showing him the places
where he would be able and likely to wander freely.

There
were, of course, areas that Baird did not take Rowan, such as the royal
quarters, the servants' quarters, and much of the upper floors. The royal
quarters were private and required permission to enter. The others were places
Rowan had no need to visit.

“There
are lower levels to the castle as well, but they are old and much of that has
fallen into disuse. The space is not needed, so there is no reason to maintain
it. Even the dungeons have not been needed for over a generation,” Baird said
as they walked out of the castle. Rowan tried to convince his master to show
him the lower levels anyways as they sounded interesting, but Baird refused.

“The
lower levels of the castle house nothing but dust and empty storerooms. You
will find nothing down there, and I do not want you to lose yourself exploring them.”

Leaving
the castle, Rowan expected to head back to Baird’s quarters. Instead, Baird
turned east, walking around the castle. The grounds housed a number of
buildings, which Baird identified as they walked, but there was little else of
interest. Trees and brush had been planted and grown in patches. There was a
large garden on the south side of the castle and a few other small areas meant
for resting and offering shade.

The
grounds were large and impressive, but Rowan found his gaze wandering to the surrounding
lands. Behind them and beyond the wall at the bottom of the rise, the city
sprawled out, covering much distance. To the south, in the shadow of the rise,
Rowan could see rows of small, squat buildings and flattened fields that looked
to be for training and a large wood that spread out over a great distance.

“Would
you like to see them?”

“What?”
The question brought Rowan’s attention back to his conversation. Baird was
staring at him, waiting for an answer that Rowan did not have.

“You
seem more interested in the training fields than the castle grounds.” Baird
followed Rowan’s gaze down to the fields below. “Let me show them to you.”

*           *           *

The training fields were larger
than Rowan had expected. The buildings near the base of the rise were barracks for
soldiers-in-training, Baird told him. Indeed, Rowan could see boys, some young
and some that appeared to be of an age with himself or perhaps older. There
were also older men, some working with the boys and others on their own.

The
barracks housed all of the boys as well as the trainers responsible for them.
Rowan watched them from a distance as he descended the rise with Baird. He
wondered what they would be like.

Baird
led him towards the fields. Rowan counted four flattened fields spanning the
distance between the barracks and the wooded area to the southwest, two of
which were being used. Rowan watched the boys as they ran and fought. He could
hear the sounds of shouting—encouragement from friends, cries from opponents,
and the harsh voices of trainers shouting instructions over all others. He
could see areas meant for fighting, for shooting, for running and for climbing.

“This is
where boys train to become soldiers. They work together under the tutelage of
trainers and learn the skills of a soldier. These fields are where we host the
Revel, a great tournament meant for young men to display their skills before
the king and capitol.”

“It
looks like a much better place to spar than around the edge of a campfire on
rough ground.” Rowan looked at all of the free space, thinking of all the ways
that he could use such an area. There were many ways to train, and of course he
would gladly do so, but he was more interested in how he might amuse himself.

The
ropes that were hung for climbing would be perfect for a game that he often
played with Petar. And the dirt area meant for running would be the ideal place
to settle which was the fastest brother. Running in the woods was fun, but
there was never a great place to sprint. Rowan had always maintained that he was
faster than his brother, even if Petar won most of their races.

“Why
don’t we spar?” Rowan suggested. He had become used to sparring and enjoyed the
practice. The western fields were relatively deserted, with only a few soldiers
practicing alone or in small groups.

Baird
was reluctant, but at Rowan’s insistence he agreed to a short session. He led
Rowan over to an area where they could select weapons. There were racks and
stands that held wooden swords and quarter staffs, as well as other training
weapons, some Rowan recognized and some he did not.

Rowan
trailed his hand along the hilts of the wooden swords, feeling them beneath his
fingers before finally selecting one that looked to be no different than any of
the others, though the grip felt good in his hand.

“It is
heavier than a stick, but not as heavy as I thought it would be,” Rowan said.

“You say
that now, but let us see how you feel later. These are training blades, but
they are fully wooden and they are much lighter than true blades.” Baird swung
his own practice weapon about in a quick motion.

Rowan
watched the swing carefully, noting that Baird’s swing was no slower than it
had been with the sticks they had used while travelling. He swung his own sword
and though it felt better than his stick and he could handle it easily, his
swing was slower and slightly more jerky than it had been. Rowan tested the
practice blade with a few more cuts and thrusts before he was ready to try it.

“We
shall skip the blade dance for now, since there is no time,” Baird said. And
with that, the two began what had become a regular routine of exchanging blows.

Baird’s
words quickly proved true as Rowan’s arm grew tired. The blade grew heavy in
his hand and he struggled to make his cuts and thrusts as quickly as he once
did. He also struggled to block and parry his master’s blows, as they came
harder and with more force than before.

The
exercise made Rowan sweat and pant with exhaustion. But training with Baird had
strengthened his muscles and given him endurance. Rowan had gotten used to the
intensity of their matches and now he enjoyed the challenge and the sport. He
had noticeably improved and, though he was nowhere near Baird’s level, he was
skilled enough to force his master to fight with him seriously.

They
fought, trading blows until Baird called a halt less than half an hour later.
Rowan was sweating and tired, but not yet out of breath. He could go for
longer.

Rowan
enjoyed the feeling that came with sparring, and was pleased with his growth.
At the beginning of their journey, he would have collapsed and slept, exhausted
from such exercise after a day’s travel. He had never been weak, but holding a
weapon and standing correctly forced him to use different muscles. Time and
practice had helped him and now he felt stronger and better. His muscles had
grown and he was used to the strain and pain of holding a sword and dueling.

Baird,
too, did not look to be weary. Yet he halted the action and forced a stop.

“There
is still much to do and the day grows shorter. We will spar more some other
time, but for now we must be done. I wish to speak with Princess Eliza before
the evening meal, and you will need time to clean yourself up so that you
appear presentable.”

Rowan
did not protest. He had no desire to accompany Baird to see Princess Eliza, and
he felt that his presence would be an intrusion if he did. His master required
a chance to talk to the princess about Rowan, and for that Baird would prefer
him not to come along.

“Why do
you need to speak with the princess?”

“Princess
Elizabeth will be angry that I did not find her after talking with her father.
In truth, it is her own fault for leaving you alone, but I should still speak
with her. While I am gone, you will find your way back to my chambers and
prepare yourself. King Alden is hosting a special dinner with many of the lords
and ladies of the court, along with other high ranking officials and officers
such as myself.”

“Why did
you not tell me this earlier?” Rowan was gripped by a sudden sense of
apprehension. He would be very out of place among the highborn people who would
attend the dinner. He was painfully aware of how poor and worn his clothing
was. He knew nothing of the necessary social etiquettes common to the highborn.
And he would likely be an object of attention and curiosity, meaning his
ignorance and appearance would not go unnoticed.

“I only
learned of it today and there was no reason to bring it up earlier. It is
nothing special. The food will be splendid and it will be well hosted, but I
often find such events to be boresome.”

The pair
returned their practice weapons to the stands.

“I will
walk with you back to the castle, but there I will take my leave. I requested a
set of fine dress clothes for you earlier.” A small amount of Rowan’s tension
left him. At least he would not have to worry about his appearance. “There was
no time to have them sized, but they should fit. You will find the clothing
waiting for you in my rooms. If there is a problem—if the clothing is too large
or too small—call on one of the maids and they will be able to help you.”