Murdoc was exuding his “humble trader” persona, which Jashoc had seen him use any time he dealt with persons of position or authority. He practically groveled in front of the man. “Here he is, Lord Feldor. The boy, just as I promised. You can see for yourself he’s in fine physical shape even if he is a little dirty,” Murdoc said, bowing towards Lord Feldor. “He’s just what you asked for, ten years old, and stronger than he looks.,”
Jashoc thought furiously. He had heard the name Lord Feldor before, but he could not remember where. This man was obviously important, the clothes alone told that. What could he want with Jashoc? He was a nobody, Murdoc and the last two years had taught him that.
Lord Feldor came closer and stared at Jashoc. He slowly circled around him, looking him up and down as though appraising the value of a piece of a sculpture or horseflesh. “He looks like he does not get much to eat,” Lord Feldor said with a tone of a trader in the bazaar trying to get a lower price. “I would wager you feed him as little as possible, though . . . the red hair is nice. His parents were not from Alavar, were they?”
“No, no, my Lord, his parents seem to have been from the hills of Caravain, and only came here to try and better themselves. Instead, they had the misfortune of getting Farthigs blight and dying.”
“So you said, so you said. Does he mind well?” Lord Feldor asked.
“No, my Lord, he minds abominably. Truth to tell, I’d be asking twice what I was for him if he minded any better. No, he’s a quick little snipe, but only when he’s avoiding work. But then again, he doesn’t need to mind all that well for what you have in mind for him now, does he?” he said, with a nod and wink, as though he had just told a dirty joke. “A sorcerer’s apprentice either learns his task or ends up feeding demons, isn’t that the way of it?”
Jashoc flinched as he realized Lord Feldor was the chief steward for Master Magician Silurian, the ruler of Salaways, and reportedly one of the greatest wizards in the whole world. Lord Feldor was one of the most powerful men in the land, possibly second only to Master Silurian. Jashoc had seen him before at public events, but never up close and had not recognized him. Jashoc now understood just what was going on here.
He was being sold as a sorcerer’s apprentice.
Chapter 2
Becoming an apprentice should have been an improvement over being a virtual slave, but it was not.
In other trades, if you showed some talent and worked hard you were very likely to make journeyman and eventually, after some years, become a master of your trade. Jashoc had heard that for every thirty or more apprentices to a sorcerer, only one was likely to become a journeyman wizard, let alone a master sorcerer. People said those who failed to become journeymen simply disappeared, and they were fed to the demons sorcerers used to do their magic. Jashoc was more afraid now than when Murdoc had threatened him in the courtyard.
If Murdoc’s comment had caused Jashoc to flinch, the effect on Lord Feldor was nearly as dramatic. A dark shadow passed over his face and his eyes burned brightly as he rounded on Murdoc. “You ignorant stuffed pig!” he glared at Jashoc’s now cowering master. “It is enough for foolish gossips to say such things, but to imply in front of him that you are selling the boy to be eaten by demons is intolerable! I am of a mind to recommend to the city council that we have one slave trader too many in Alavar!”
Murdoc retreated before his words as though struck by an invisible lash. “Oh no, my Master, my Lord, I meant nothing by it. It was only a jest, a poor one no doubt, but only a foolish jest. I know you and your master would never feed the boy to demons, else I couldn’t possibly sell him to you, even as much as I loathe being his master.” He cringed and stared at the floor, unwilling to meet the burning gaze of Lord Feldor.
Without taking his eyes off the floor, Murdoc said, “It truly was a poor jest, my Lord, and for my lack of manners, I’ll gladly take another ten silver off the price we’d agreed on, just to show you how very sorry I am and to apologize for any insult, though none was meant.”
Lord Feldor looked at Murdoc with undisguised loathing. They both knew that what Murdoc had said was no jest. It was his true opinion of what would happen to Jashoc once he was “apprenticed.”
Lord Feldor looked up to the ceiling, sighed, and said shortly, “Well accepted. Done and done.” He reached into a pouch at his belt, counted out a number of coins, and slammed them onto the desk.
“Has he clothes or other possessions?” Feldor asked.
“Just what’s in his loft,” Murdoc replied. “Go and get your stuff, boy. Be quick about it, and don’t think about running off again. I’ve got Gareselin watching to make sure you don’t try.”
Jashoc did think fleetingly about running, but figured it would do no good, so he went to the loft and collected his few belongings. It took almost no time. He had so little, only a coat for the colder season he had owned since before his parents died, a brass coin from a far kingdom said to be of no value here, and a small plain dagger that had been his father’s. All of the other family possessions had been sold, before he became a ward of the city. Murdoc had bought him no more than one new shirt and set of trousers in the year and a half he had been his slave and then only bought those when all of Jashoc’s old clothes were too small, and worn to rags.
He gathered all his things quickly and came down from his loft to find Lord Feldor and his master, now his former master, already out on the street. Jashoc looked to Murdoc, who grinned and said, “Off with you now. And mind the lord here better than you’ve minded me. You’re his problem now.” So saying, he turned his back and walked back inside the shop and could be heard yelling for Gareselin.
Lord Feldor wasted no time in setting off, walking rapidly. Without looking back, he said over his shoulder, “Hurry on boy. We have no time to waste, and this distasteful errand has already cost me two hours I could ill afford to spare.”
Jashoc hurried to catch up with the Lord Feldor’s long strides, nearly having to run in order to keep up. Again, he thought of running away, but dismissed the idea very quickly. Lord Feldor would just call out the city guard if he ran. That could only make things worse. He shivered as he thought about what Murdoc had said. He desperately hoped Lord Feldor had been telling the truth that he was not going to his death.
Soon they had left the center part of Alavar and were moving to where the wealthy traders lived, a part of town Jashoc had rarely visited. When they turned into a small open plaza with a fountain in its center, he was certain he had never been there before.
Lord Feldor looked back to Jashoc and said, “Wait here, boy. I have some business to conduct and then we will be off shortly.”
Jashoc stood alone for several moments, unsure of what to do. Just as he decided he would take his chances running, Lord Feldor came out again. As he walked out, another set of gates swung wide and a closed carriage pulled by two horses emerged. The driver got down and opened the door. Lord Feldor motioned for him to get in and he followed. Jashoc noticed the crest of the kingdom of Salaways was on the door. Jashoc looked up at the sky as he climbed into the carriage and wondered if he would live to see it tomorrow. He wished he had run.
Chapter 3
“So is Jashoc the name you were presented with?” Lord Feldor asked, after they had settled, facing one another in the carriage.
Jashoc thought it an odd question, but answered as best he could. “I don’t know I was ever presented, my Lord, but Jashoc is what my parents always called me. It’s the only name I’ve ever had.”
“Well, we will have to change that, right here and now,” Lord Feldor said with a thoughtful look on his face. “Yes, we must have a new name for you now if you are to be an apprentice. It would not do for you to be known by your true name. Even you must understand that.”
Jashoc did understand, or thought he understood, what Lord Feldor meant. It was common knowledge in the markets wizards were never known by their true names. Knowing a wizard’s true name was necessary for another wizard
to be able to cast certain spells, which would have a hold upon him. So Jashoc reasoned that if he were really to be an apprentice sorcerer, he would need to be known by a new name. That the lord was attending to this detail made Jashoc believe being an apprentice might not be as bad as he feared.
Lord Feldor sat and stared out the window for a time as the carriage reached the edge of town and started on the road that led to the great castle. Suddenly, he turned and looked down at Jashoc and smiled and said, “We will call you Jonny. Yes, that is your name from now on. Do you like the name well enough?”
“I suppose,” Jashoc, now Jonny, replied. “I’ve never heard it before as a name, but I guess I can get used to it.”
“Good. That is settled then. Only you, Master Silurian, and I will know your true name in the castle, and you will not be going back to Alavar any time soon. Do not respond to any other, and do not let the other apprentices trick you into revealing your true name. It is the most important thing you possess right now, outside of life itself.”
This thought was more than a little unsettling to Jonny. It brought home to him how he had absolutely no idea what he was getting into. If even half of the stories he had heard in the market were true, he had just gone from one form of misery to one infinitely worse.
By the way Lord Feldor had reacted to Murdoc’s insinuations, he knew he was not going to be the first course in a demon’s meal this evening, but, he was still scared and unsure. He desperately wanted to ask Lord Feldor questions, but at the same time, he was scared of the possible answers.
Lord Feldor must have seen his discomfort, “You really must not believe anything you have heard in the markets about being a sorcerer’s apprentice. All the people know there are lies and rumors.”
Jonny knew Lord Feldor was trying to put him at ease, but he could not keep from asking the question that had been tormenting him. “But sir, my Lord, um, ah, . . . isn’t it true thirty boys become apprentices for every one who makes it to journeyman?”
Jonny could see this question had not been what Lord Feldor had been expecting. He said “Well of course, my boy, there are at least thirty apprentices who fail for every one who makes it to being a journeyman. It is very difficult to become a wizard, and only a very few have what it takes to be able to perform magic consistently. Much of it cannot be learned; you must be born with an innate talent for it.”
This answer did not help Jonny at all. In fact, it made him even more nervous than he had been before, he was no one, he could not possibly be the one out of thirty, but he felt he had to ask the question burning inside him. “So, so, um, ah . . . what, ah, . . . what happens . . . what happens to the, the thirty who, ah, um, . . . don’t, um, become journeymen?” There he said it.
The whole time he had been asking the question, Lord Feldor had been scowling as though he was going to have to say something unpleasant, but when Jonny got to the end of his question, he smiled and laughed.
“So that is what you are worried about?” he said with a chuckle. “You are still worried about being killed and offered on some altar to a demon?”
“When you say it that way it does sound a little simple-minded. But, what does happen to the apprentices who don't make it? Everyone says they never come back to town. What happens to them?”
“Well,” Lord Feldor began, “they are right about that. Any of the boys who apprentice here are almost never sent back into town. Their failure would mark them for life. So, after they have served a sufficient time to show no aptitude for magic at all, they are sent to other cities to apprentice in other trades. Many of our former apprentices have gone on to become quite prosperous tradesmen, traders, and scholars. All apprentices can read and write before they leave, that alone is a great benefit to them.”
Lord Feldor had looked a little uncertain, as he had begun his response, but looked increasingly confident as he finished. “In fact,” he said with enthusiasm, “one of the reasons sorcerer’s apprentices start so young is so that if they fail to show aptitude for The Arts, they will still be able to be sent off to apprentice at a useful age. Usually, we send them off at around thirteen or fourteen, which is only a year or so later than they would be apprenticed normally.”
Jonny sensed he was not being told everything, but he also thought Lord Feldor was telling the truth. It made him feel better, but he was still far from being at ease.
§ § §
The carriage turned as it left the flat of the valley and headed up the winding road leading to the castle, and Jonny got his first close look at it. In the past, he had only seen it as a clump of buildings on top of a hill. Now he could see it clearly and appreciate just how very large it was.
Jonny had heard Castle Salaways had protected this part of the country for at least five hundred years, maybe more. For the last ninety years it had been the home to the master wizard and ruler of Salaways. He had united the cities of Alavar, Kenton to the north, and Sharafleg to the south and created the land of Salaways by driving off the competing armies from the three adjacent lands.
The three cities lay in the long valley of Sharafleg, bordered on the south by Lake Sharafleg, and on the north by the Crags of Glondor. The land of Salaways had known mostly peace for the last ninety years, but had been a prize fought over for centuries. The castle was heavily fortified, and well positioned for defense.
Salaways’ location, and its relative peace since Master Silurian united it, made it a prosperous trading nation. Though far from the sea, its fertile fields and open society made it a crossroads for the trading routes on the continent of Skryla.
The road wound back and forth up the hill. As they climbed higher, Jonny saw both the castle grow ahead of them, and the city of Alavar, his home for the last two years, spreading out below them. He had never seen the city from this height and was amazed at how big it really was, though the buildings were looking smaller and smaller.
The closer they got, the more ominous the castle seemed. Its huge walls of dark stone were covered with gray-green moss that made it appear as if the whole structure had somehow grown out of the ground. There were six tall towers in the outer walls with arrow slits evenly spaced up them and the tops of all the walls had crenellations, the square toothed top that allowed defenders to take refuge while raining down death on their attackers. Jonny had heard the castle was big enough for half the town of Alavar to be housed in case of a serious attack. He had never believed it, until now.
From the top of the tallest tower flew a single white flag bearing the same seal that adorned the door of the carriage, the Seal of Salaways. The seal was a circle of red. In the center of the circle was a smaller gold circle, a book, lightning bolt, and a sword, all done in black, were arranged in a triangle within the circle itself. Jonny thought it looked like a large demonic eye as the flag waved in the strong breeze.
Lord Feldor had been content to allow them to ride in silence until they entered the outer gate of the castle. Jonny had been so intent on the panorama unfolding as they climbed that he had not paid attention to the time it took to get there.
It had been early afternoon when he was caught and this whole adventure had begun. Now he noticed it was getting late. The hillside already blocked the sun from the castle as the carriage took them into the main courtyard.
Jonny was struck by just how dark and foreboding a place like this was. His fear, which had nearly left him for the last hour, now redoubled. What would become of him?
Chapter 4
Lord Feldor leaned close to Jonny just before they exited the carriage and reminded him, “Do not forget what I said about your name, Jonny. From now on, that is your only name. The old name, and the person it belonged to, are gone. You are Jonny, the newest apprentice sorcerer, understand?"
“I guess so,” Jonny replied. “Will they really try to get me to tell them my real, I um, mean my true name?”
“Oh yes, it is a game all apprentices play at. But remember, it is a very deadly game. If even one of them fin
ds out your true name, he could cause you considerable harm. Some of the most powerful spells are easily done if you know your victim’s true name, so keep a watch out.”
Jonny wondered how all the people in town would be kept from telling his true name, but he dared not ask. Besides, he thought, he would not be one of the lucky ones who made it to journeyman; he was no one after all, so it would not matter.
They were met at the carriage not by liveried servants, as Jonny had expected, but by three boys, two of them looked hardly older than Jonny was. The third looked to be around twelve, and addressed Lord Feldor directly. “My Lord, The Master wishes for you and the new boy to proceed directly to the north study. He desires to see him before dinner. I am to ask you if there are any urgent matters you need to communicate to the staff.”
“No, that’s quite all right,” Feldor said. “Any information I have for the staff can wait till after dinner, or I will discuss it directly with Master Silurian. Just make certain the horses and carriage are seen to. I will almost certainly need to leave early tomorrow.” He turned to Jonny and said, “Let us not keep Master Silurian waiting.”
As they headed off, Jonny looked over his shoulder and saw the two younger boys leading the horses and carriage off while the older boy spoke with the driver. He felt terrified to think he was about to meet the ruler of the land, but even more terrified as to what might happen after. He turned and ran to catch up with Lord Feldor, who was disappearing through a door up the stairs from the courtyard.
Just as Jonny passed through the door, he thought he heard something that sounded like a child screaming in pain coming faintly from the opposite side of the courtyard. A shiver ran up his spine, how he wished he had run away when he had the chance. Now, instead, he had to run just to catch up with Lord Feldor. He felt as if he was going to vomit.
The Apprentice to Zdrell Page 2