The Apprentice (6 page)

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Authors: Alexander C. Hoffman

BOOK: The Apprentice
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They
continued to walk and the land around them continued to change. Shortly before
midday, they reached a place that forced Rowan to pause. He stood staring up at
the Sentinel, a massive stone that stood alone at the crest of the tallest hill
in sight. It was the farthest point he had ever travelled from home.

Several
years back he had thought himself ready to leave home, and this was as far as
he had made it. He had taken enough supplies to go further and nothing had held
him back, but in the end he found himself turned around and heading home. Going
any further seemed to mark the true beginning of his journey and the growth of
his world.

“Is
something wrong?”

Baird
had noticed that Rowan had stopped walking. His tone held no sense of urgency,
but his stance indicated that he wanted to continue on.

Rowan
glanced back at the Sentinel.

“Something
caught my eye, but it is gone now. It is behind me.”

“Then
allow us to continue. I hope to be well into the Lost Hills by nightfall and in
Attica within a day or two.”

“Is that
a village like Corrinth?”

“Attica
is a city. A small city compared to many, but you will not think it small when
you see it. Compared to Corrinth, everywhere might be considered a city.”

“Corrinth
is a fine village.”

“I did
not say it wasn’t. But it sits nestled deep within the Vale and is well removed
from the world. In Attica, we will be able to buy supplies and mounts.”

“Why do
we need horses?” Rowan asked. “Can’t we walk?”

Baird
laughed.

“You
will see soon enough. Trust me, boy, we’ll need horses if we do not mean to
spend months on foot.”

Rowan
was silent for a long while, but with nothing to do, he made an effort to get
Baird to talk with him. At first his words were met with silence, but
eventually he began to elicit responses. He learned little, but was able to find
out that Baird was an influential captain and he had been sent to another
country as a diplomat. Now he was returning to Estoria.

“What
did you have to do to become a knight?” That was the first question that Baird
answered with more than a nod or a curt “Yes” or “No.” Rowan knew the man was a
knight, but he had little idea what such a thing meant or how the title was
achieved. There were tales aplenty of great knights and their deeds. Some
stories had them using magic or enchanted items that gave them strength. They
were sometimes heroes and other times they were princes. Occasionally they were
smallfolk who had risen to greatness. Those were the ones that Rowan enjoyed
the most. Yet his father had often told him that stories are not truths. In
every tale there is a grain of truth, but the nature of stories made them
unreliable.

“I did
many things in order to rise to my station, some of which are well known and
others that are secret to all but myself. I will not speak of my trials. I was
honored with the title by my friend, King Alden Haerth. The better question is
what do I do, since I doubt you know anything more of a knight than what you've
heard in tales.”

Though
the man assumed correctly, Rowan could not help but feel belittled. Still, he
could not keep himself from asking the question.

“What do
knights do?”

Baird
grinned.

“A
knight does many things. What you hear in stories—the tales of heroic deeds and
battles of honor—all of that is false. Oh, it might have held some truth in
ages past, when the world was smaller and everyone was always warring. In such
an age, it was easy to produce heroes. Not anymore. There is a reason that
stories and legends are filled with knights and that is because they belong to
an age gone by. To be a knight now means little more than having a title. I am
one of the few exceptions, but I am something of a rarity.”

“Then
there are no more knights?”

“There
are many knights, a number of them nobility who bought the honor, the rest
soldiers and swordsmen who earned the rank by skill. But for them it is a
title, an honor, not a way of life or an occupation. There are very few true
knights remaining, and amongst that number I stand alone in what I do.”

“Why?
What changed?” Rowan’s question was vague, but Baird seemed to know what he was
thinking.

“Knights
are wanderers. They are men who move and act with authority and see to justice,
yet they are not tied to the army. They uphold peace and act for the king. But
such a position can be the cause of many problems.”

“I don’t
understand.”

“Then
allow me to explain. How do you know that I am a knight?”

“You…you
said that you were.” The way that the edge of the knight’s mouth tugged upwards
into an almost grin annoyed Rowan. “Your blade,” he said, pointing to the sword
that Baird wore at his waist.

The
knight, for Rowan knew the man had not lied about that, shrugged. “Perhaps I
killed whoever owned it before me.”

Rowan
shivered at the mention of murder. The memory of the dead man came back, but he
pushed it out of his mind. Baird must have noticed, for his almost grin faded
and he continued.

“What
proof do you have that it is mine?”

“You
know how to use it. You know its name. You carry it as though it is a part of
you.”

“Knowing
how to use a blade doesn’t make the blade mine, nor does knowing how to read
its name. But the issue of ownership is irrelevant. A blade does not make a
knight, not even one as fine as this. Do you see the problem now? You have no
way to identify me as a knight.”

“I have
your word.”

“That is
worth little.”

“There
must be some means of identification. A badge or something.”

“Any
badge would be no different from the sword. How could anyone truly know without
a doubt that the man who carries it is the man it was given to? A true knight
should be skilled enough to fight off any who would kill him, but no man is
invincible. However, identification was a small problem. The true issue was
accountability. A knight answers to the king, but who else does he answer to? A
knight could condemn a man for his crimes and issue justice as he saw fit. He
was bound by oath to do so with honor, but many protested such unchecked power.
All it took was a few controversies and a small number of knights acting
dishonorably and it became an issue too big for the king to ignore. Not our
king, of course. All this happened long before anyone in this land was even
born. But it did happen.

“Now we
get back to the original question. What is it that I do? I act as the king’s
hand and I do what is required of me. A vague answer, but my duties are quite broad.”

Rowan
had learned much about the knight and no longer cared for a detailed answer. He
would have more questions later, but a new question had taken hold of him.

“You
have met with the king?”

“I have.
I suppose I take for granted that I know him so well. You probably do not even
know his name, having lived in the Vale all your life.”

“His
name is King Alden,” Rowan said proudly. Of course he knew the name of the
king. Everyone must know that.

“Indeed
it is. I was fostered and trained with Alden during my youth. Not in all
things, of course. He had many tutors and learned much that I did not. Things
for a young prince. But we were, and are, good friends.”

“Baird,
what is the king like? What kind of person is he?” Rowan asked.

Baird
hesitated before answering, struggling between what he should say as a knight
and what he could say to be truthful.

“King
Alden is a good king. If you met him without knowing who he was, he would not
seem extraordinary. What makes him special and worth serving is how he rules this
country. He has fought wars with the other nations, but never has he done so
unnecessarily. As I see it, he has gradually been leading our country towards
peace. Our relationships with the other lands in the East have improved and the
country has been slowly growing more and more prosperous.”

“Will I
get to meet him?” Rowan asked, curious. He could imagine being able to boast of
meeting a king, though he found it hard to imagine himself in a palace.

“I
suspect you will meet him when we arrive in Estoria, and perhaps the princess
as well.” Rowan began to fantasize about meeting the king of the entire
country. Baird called him back to reality. “Don’t expect very much. Alden is a
busy man and you’ll be lucky to meet with him for any extended period of time.”

They
continued talking and walking, slowly leaving the Vale behind them. The
landscape continued to change. The trees and bushes became sparse, giving way
to grass and brush. The ground began to slope and the pair was forced to climb
up and down the hills that now covered the land. The extra effort that the
hills required put an end to their conversation as both grew tired and began to
breathe heavily. As he reached the top of the largest hill yet, Rowan gasped as
he saw what lay before them.

The hill
sloped downwards into a vast expanse of plains that stretched as far as the eye
could see, fusing into the sky. The entire land was a uniform brown, covered in
nothing but dry grass and rocks. Rowan suddenly understood why Baird planned on
buying horses. It would take weeks, maybe even months, to journey across this
plain on foot, and Rowan could see no source of water or food.

Far to
his right, the dominating mountain range that had formed the valley of his home
faded off into the distance, surrounding the land and creating a natural
barrier that stretched upwards into the sky like a jagged row of teeth. To his
left, the hills continued onwards, marking the beginning of this vast expanse
into nothingness.

“The
plains are always a stunning sight, especially the first time you see it,”
Baird said as he reached the top of the hill and joined Rowan. “Do you see now
why we are going to need horses?”

“Yes,”
Rowan replied. “But where are we going to get them? I don’t see anything
anywhere.”

Baird
chuckled and then pointed.

“Look
just beyond the edge of the plain to the east. Do you see anything?”

Rowan
examined the area that Baird indicated. He saw nothing but the blurred horizon
at first. Then he noticed a dark patch between the fading hills and the plains.
He tried to make out a shape or a landmark, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t even
judge the distance.

“Do you
see it?” Baird asked.

“I think
so,” Rowan said. “What is it?”

“Those
are the Bjorn Mountains. They are a small cluster of mountains that surround
Lake Loche near the border of the country. That is where we are headed. The
city of Attica and several other towns and villages lie in that region. From
there we will make our way along the edge of the plains and hopefully reach
Attica within the week. There we can take a brief break to get horses and
supplies before crossing the plains to the capitol.”

Rowan
suddenly thought of something.

“Is
Estoria somewhere in there?” he asked, pointing towards the plains.

“No,”
Baird reassured him, laughing. “The plains are a largely uninhabited part of
Atlea, save for the nomadic tribes and a couple of small reclusive villages
near the mountains that mark our land’s western border. Estoria lies beyond the
plains in a much more suitable environment. We will only skirt the edges, and
even then only to save some time.”

Rowan
and Baird made their way down the hill and kept on for a ways before taking a
short break to rest and eat. The short respite was much appreciated by Rowan,
whose legs were exhausted. While they rested, Rowan looked back the way they
had come. The rise of the land behind them marked the mouth of the Vale. Rowan
was surprised at how close he had previously come to actually leaving. The Vale
twisted and turned, seeming to go on without end. Had he but travelled a couple
more miles, he could have boasted setting foot beyond the border of his home.
Now having left, he did not yet feel the sensation that he thought he would.
Not yet.

Time
passed quickly while resting and after what seemed to Rowan like only moments,
they were once again pressing onward.

As they
walked, Baird and Rowan continued to converse. Baird was much more open with
Rowan than he had been previously. The knight told Rowan about the capitol and
the country, since Rowan was curious and had nothing more than second hand
knowledge of the places beyond the valley. Much of what he knew was wrong,
exaggerated, or dated. And knowledge was no substitute for experience.
Fortunately, Baird was well travelled and knew nearly as much as Rowan did not.
He knew much about Atlea and the neighboring countries.

Rowan’s
supply of questions was endless, and slowly he gained a basic understanding of
the country. He learned that, contrary to what he had believed, the capitol was
not the largest city. It was important because that was where the king ruled
and where most of the politics went on, but the majority of trade happened
elsewhere. The large cities—Rowan had trouble picturing them since he had
nothing for comparison—were the military and merchant cities: Torrin, Estion, and
Oscilliath. Torrin was by the sea far to the south and Estion, the city of
trade, lay just northeast of the capitol. Baird said that they would pass by it
on their journey and that Rowan would be able to see the great watchtower of
the city from many miles away. Rowan looked forward to the experience, but it
was Oscilliath that fascinated him.

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