by Silas DeBoer
~
In five annums I grew as tall as a Man's shoulder. I learned to recognize bared teeth in Man as a "smile," but I never became adept at discerning a sly smile from a knowing grin or a humorless smile from a genuine one. During that time I worked at the Grand Rooster under Master as errand boy, water fetcher, bed turner, room cleaner, and a hundred other vocations. I was very good at testing tiles on the roof and repairing them, for Master was nervous about heights. I disliked anything to do with water, the baths in the basement, or the like, but I grudgingly did as I was told and not once did Master lay a hand on me other than in affection. The only place I was disallowed was the kitchen due to concerns about errant hairs in the bread and stew. This was difficult as there was always tempting smells from Cook's domain.
The Rooster generally did middling business, so Master's real income came from shrewd investments and trade, acting as a sort of banker, lawyer, and wordsmith for the residents of Fensmore. Three times an annum he traveled to Carlisle to trade goods from the village in the Northern capital, but he would not bring me. I wished to learn what happened to Mother, Jara, Drosta and Mira. Master always said he forgot to make inquiries, but I think he knew the truth and could not bear to tell me. I wept for them when I stared through my attic window into the night sky and prayed to Elene the Empress of the Universe, to the Two Moons, and all the Heathen Gods from Master's stories to protect Mother and my siblings. I never received an answer, but I still sometimes pray.
I learned many things under Master's tutelage: arithmetic and the weighing of coins, receiving travelers with respect and courtesy, how to turn down a bed, draw a hot bath, and do all the things an innkeeper's assistant must do, except to read or write. In sum, I learned how to learn, and Master was my primary teacher, followed by Mother Margrette, who I helped in my free time and who told me stories of my people. Mother Margrette had the best stories. I also learned that it was a crime to teach any bonded Catiin letters, for fear of an organized uprising.
Most of the village treated me well except for Judge Fenton, Sheriff DeWalt, and the Sheriff's Men. Judge Fenton was the Imperial Magistrate for Sump District, while the Sheriff and his Men operated the toll road and kept the peace. Mostly they got drunk and harassed villagers.