“Did you hear that, donkey? I’m coming with you and your master. He said we’ll be traveling all around Tevenar, for a whole year. Can you believe it? I’ve never even been out of Korisan before.”
The donkey flicked one long ear forward and bent its head again to graze.
“Listen to me, talking to an animal. It’s not like you can understand me.” Josiah stroked the donkey’s soft back. The beast was small, his shoulders only a little higher than Josiah’s waist. His coat was dove grey, deepening to brown in a stripe from the base of his mane to his tail and another across his withers. His mane was creamy white and stuck up straight in a ridge along his neck. He wore no harness or bridle.
“Well, good-bye, donkey. I’ve got to go. See you later.” Josiah set off toward the apprentice barracks.
The long low building was deserted at this time of day. Josiah went to his bunk against the far wall and opened the chest at its foot. He didn’t own much. Two changes of tunic and breeches, a sleep shirt, a weeks’ worth of underwear and socks, a towel, a comb. A few miscellaneous trinkets he’d picked up over the past year. His spare pair of boots. He stuffed everything into his pack haphazardly, slung it over his shoulders, and hurried out into the spring sunshine.
The wizard emerged from the mill. The donkey lifted his head from his grazing and trotted over to him. Josiah eyed the two of them as he went to join them, wondering just what he’d gotten himself into.
The wizard nodded at him. “Master Sef and I have settled accounts. You’re employed by the Wizards’ Guild now. He said your parents live in town? I’d like to meet them, to reassure them their son is in good hands.” He gestured toward the road. “Lead the way.”
“Yes, master.”
“Oh, I’m not a master yet, just a sixth-year journeyman. All wizards are required to travel one of the circuits while they’re a journeyman, as part of their training. Since I chose the Outer Circuit, the longest, I’ll be able to count it as my masterwork. If all goes as planned, my mastery will be waiting for me at the end of our journey. Until then, you can just call me Elkan. Or Wizard Elkan, if you insist on formality.”
“Yes, Wizard Elkan.” Josiah was a little scandalized by the thought of calling his master, even if he wasn’t actually a master yet, by his unadorned name.
“Master Sef tells me your name is Josiah. Josiah Potterkin Fuller.”
“Yes, sir. Although…” He hesitated.
“Yes?” Elkan prompted after the moment of silence had grown uncomfortable.
“It’s just… I don’t think I’m properly entitled to Fuller, anymore.” Josiah bit his lip and looked at the ground. He had been so proud, the previous Springtide at his apprenticing, to formally add his guild name to his birth name.
The wizard placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Master Sef still holds your contract, so you’re still a member of the Fullers’ Guild. I’m just borrowing you for a year. With luck, he’ll be willing to accept your service again when we return. No one can fault you for continuing to call yourself a Fuller.”
Josiah nodded glumly. But he did look up again.
“And I, Josiah, am Elkan Farmerkin Wizard.” He waved at the donkey. “And this is Sardonyx. We’re very pleased to make your acquaintance.” The donkey bobbed his head. Elkan held his hand out, and Josiah clasped it.
The motion pulled at the scrape on his upper arm where the stock had grazed him, and he winced. He’d forgotten about the injury until now, relegating the sting to the back of his mind.
Elkan frowned. “Let me see that.” He studied the wound. “It’s not serious, but I’m sure it must be painful. We can take care of it, if you’d like.”
Josiah had never been sick or injured enough to need a wizard’s healing. He felt apprehensive, but nodded. Elkan put one hand on the back of the donkey, who turned to look at Josiah’s arm, and held the other just above the wound. For a moment man and donkey were still.
Josiah felt a pleasant, tingling warmth envelope his arm. He peered over his shoulder. The same soft golden light that had surrounded the fulling stock glowed around his arm. When the light faded and Elkan took his hand away, the wound was gone, only a faint redness remaining. He stretched his arm experimentally, free from pain.
He stammered his thanks, but Elkan waved them away. “It’s our duty. The Mother gives us her power so we can use it to help her children. We don’t usually spend our energy on small wounds like this, but there are advantages to being a wizard’s traveling companion.”
Josiah had heard all sorts of conflicting stories and rumors about wizards, and never known which to believe. Now he could see for himself what was real and what wasn’t. “Is it true that wizards can heal anything?”
“Most things, but not all. We’re able to speed up, slow down, or reverse any natural process. Your wound healed just as it would have without our help, only faster. But we can’t do anything about this.” He touched the rip in Josiah’s sleeve, smoothing the edges together. “There’s no natural healing to accelerate.” He released it, and the fabric flapped open. “The Mother’s power is a great gift, but it has its limits.”
A million more questions crowded into Josiah’s mind. “What else can you do? Do all wizards have the same powers? What about your familiars, how does that work? How—”
Elkan held up his hand. “The Mother gives all wizards three powers. Healing, windows, and moving things—or stopping them from moving, as the case may be.” He grinned, and Josiah squirmed in embarrassment. “I’m afraid the rest of your questions will have to wait until later. We need to get going if we’re going to make it to your parents’ home before nightfall.”
Two
During the walk downriver Elkan told Josiah a little about what to expect on their journey, and what his duties as a wizard’s assistant would be. They sounded simple enough. He’d be expected to take on as many of the ordinary tasks as possible, allowing the wizard to concentrate on serving those who needed his powers. Not the most exciting work, but hopefully watching the wizard in action and seeing new places would keep him from getting too bored. It would have to be better than the drudgery of the fulling mill, at least.
When they reached Korisan, Josiah led the wizard to Potter’s Way. Shops lined both sides of the cobblestone street. He pushed open the familiar door of one of the largest. Inside, gracefully shaped pots, bowls, cups, plates and vases filled rows of shelves and overflowed onto the floor. Their glazes glowed in the slanting light of the setting sun, a rainbow of warm blues, greens, golds, rusts, and bronzes.
From the rear of the shop came the whirr of a potter’s wheel. A woman’s voice called, “I’ll be right with you. Look around if you like.”
“Don’t get up, Mother.” Josiah bit his lip. “It’s just me.”
His mother’s voice was startled. “Josiah? What are you doing here? Is something the matter?”
Josiah was spared the need to answer for the moment, as a whirlwind with hands covered in wet clay seized him about the waist. “Josiah!”
He hugged his six-year-old sister. “Hey, Adina. Does mother know you’ve been playing in her clay?”
She grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the back of the shop. “She’s teaching me to throw pots,” she boasted. “Come look what I made.”
He exclaimed with proper enthusiasm over the lopsided lump of clay in the middle of the wheel. His mother turned from the basin, wiping her hands on a towel, a worried frown on her face. “I didn’t expect to see you until Restday.”
Adina seated herself on the bench of the potter’s wheel. Her short legs swung ineffectually. “Mama, come kick the wheel for me.”
“In a moment, Adina. I need to speak with Josiah right now. You can practice your pinch pot technique for a few minutes.”
Adina pouted, but slid down from the wheel and grabbed a new wad of clay from the bins that lined the wall. Soon she was absorbed in shaping it.
Josiah’s mother turned back to him. “Well?”
&nb
sp; Josiah found himself at a loss for words. “Um, Mother, there was a little, ah, problem at the mill today, and Master Sef…”
“Master Sef has kindly agreed to loan Josiah to me for the next year.” Elkan stepped up beside Josiah. “Subject to your approval of course, Master…?”
Josiah’s mother wiped her hands on her apron, smearing them with clay from the splatters that covered it. “Jensine, Master Wizard. Jensine Bakerkin Potter.”
“And I’m Journeyman Elkan Farmerkin Wizard. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Master Jensine.”
“Josiah’s not in any trouble, is he? I know there’s been a few times when he’s been distracted from his work, but he promised not to let it happen again.”
“No, no, he’s not in trouble.” Elkan glanced at Josiah and raised an eyebrow. Josiah closed his mouth. He wasn’t about to tell his mother what had happened if Elkan was willing to cover for him. “There was a small incident that convinced Master Sef the fulling mill isn’t the best place for Josiah right now. I happened to be there, and since I’ve been looking to take on a companion to share my journey, I offered to buy a year of his apprentice contract. I’ll be traveling around the outskirts of Tevenar, bringing the Mother’s power to those who have no resident wizards of their own. If you and his father approve, Josiah will be coming with me.”
“Of course.” Jensine glowered at Josiah, and he looked at the floor. He knew his mother suspected there was more to the tale than the wizard had revealed. But he also knew she wouldn’t question any further. Not in Elkan’s presence, at least. “I’m sure my husband will agree that this is a wonderful opportunity for Josiah. If you’re certain he’ll suit your needs. I expect Master Sef told you he can be a bit of a dreamer—”
“Mother!”
“I’m not telling him anything he won’t find out for himself. Wizard Elkan, Josiah is a good boy, very quick witted and clever, but he has a lot to learn about hard work and discipline.”
“Yes, I’ve already been made aware of Josiah’s particular talents and weaknesses. I’m sure he’ll suit my purposes admirably.”
A young woman poked her head through the door at the back of the shop. “Mother, supper is almost—Oh, you’re with a customer. I’ll keep it warm for you. Adina, come with me, I’ll get you cleaned up.” She went to pull the younger girl away from her clay. “Josiah? What are you doing here?”
Josiah waved at his older sister. “I’ll tell you about it later.”
Jensine turned to Elkan. “Do stay for supper, Wizard Elkan. There’s plenty to go around. Benta, set an extra place for our guest.”
Elkan hesitated. “I wouldn’t want to cause you any trouble…”
“It’s no trouble,” Jensine assured him. “We’re honored to—Oh!”
Josiah looked to see what had caused such a look of consternation on his mother’s face. Sar clopped up beside Elkan and surveyed the workspace at the back of the shop. Josiah stifled a laugh at the way his mother’s eyes flew to the rows of shelves filled with many hours’ worth of hard labor. The donkey’s tail twitched, and Jensine flinched.
“This is my familiar, Sardonyx.” Elkan scratched the donkey between the ears. “I understand if you don’t have accommodations for a donkey. We’ll be happy to return to the Mother’s Hall for the evening meal; they’re expecting us.”
“Oh, no.” Jensine rallied. “There’s space for him out in the kiln yard, if that’s suitable. I’ll have Namir fetch some hay from the livery stable, or oats if he’d prefer.”
Sardonyx’s ears swiveled forward. Elkan patted him. “Hay will be fine.” The donkey laid his ears back and glared at the wizard. “Have you forgotten how much energy it took to heal your colic the last time you ate oats?” The donkey huffed and looked away with an air of feigned indifference.
“Just hay,” Elkan repeated. “And if word could be sent to the Mother’s Hall, to notify them of my absence…”
Jensine nodded. “Eban can run over there with a message. Come, make yourself at home. Josiah, get the donkey settled out back.”
She gestured for them to precede her. Josiah followed Elkan and Sardonyx through the rear door of the shop and into the living quarters.
Benta was lighting the lamps, their yellow flames adding to the warm glow of the fireplace. Adina was at the long table laying out the best plates, fine examples of their parents’ craft which were usually reserved for holidays. Josiah guessed the everyday plates—mismatched odds and ends of sets, lopsided beginner’s work, and pieces that had come slightly cracked from the kiln—had been whisked away.
Jensine bustled past them. She stirred the soup simmering in the large iron cauldron over the fire. Benta finished lighting the row of candles down the middle of the table, opened the door of the arched brick oven in the side of the fireplace, and drew out loaves of freshly baked bread. The yeasty smell made Josiah aware of just how hungry he was, and he hurried to lead Elkan and Sar toward the far door.
Adina squealed in delight at seeing a donkey making its way through the house, and abandoned a stack of dishes to run up to them, wide-eyed. “May I pet him?”
“Certainly.” Elkan stroked the donkey’s neck, and Adina followed suit. Sardonyx tolerated her attentions with an air of long-suffering patience.
Two-year-old Tirza approached, fascinated, but hung back in apprehension, fingers stuffed in her mouth. Josiah knelt and held out his arms to her. “Look, Tirza, he won’t hurt you. He’s a nice donkey.”
“Nice donkey,” she repeated dubiously, but let Josiah take her chubby hand and stroke it against the muzzle Sardonyx lowered toward her. “Soft.” She giggled, but when Sardonyx blew out his breath gently, she pulled back and hid her head against Josiah’s chest.
Jensine scooped Tirza from Josiah’s arms. “Your father should be done loading the kiln now. Go and tell him about our guests. And send Eban and Namir off, or it will be midnight before we can eat.”
Josiah nodded and ushered Elkan and Sar out the door, the donkey’s hooves clopping hollowly on the wooden floor.
The yard was nearly dark, the first stars peeking out overhead. The domed shape of the new kiln loomed before them, set back far enough from the main building to protect it should the fire within escape its thick earthen walls.
A tall, stout man emerged from the doorway of the kiln. “Father, we have a guest,” Josiah called. He turned to Elkan. “This is my father, Master Hyam Potterkin Potter. Father, this is Journeyman Elkan Farmerkin Wizard. He bought a year of my apprenticeship contract from Master Sef. I’m going to travel with him all around Tevenar.”
“I’m very pleased to meet you, Wizard Elkan.” He shot a quizzical look at Josiah. “Although I’m eager to hear what’s led to this new arrangement.”
Josiah left Elkan to explain to his father, for he spotted his brothers coming out of the kiln behind Hyam. “Namir, Eban, Mother has errands for you.”
Namir, fifteen and a year his elder, scowled at him. “Did they finally kick you out of the mill?”
“No.” Josiah scowled back. “I’m going to be traveling with a wizard. Way better than the mill.” He gestured to the donkey. “Mother wants you to run down to the livery stable and bring back some hay for the wizard’s donkey. It’s his familiar, so you better make sure it’s good.”
“What did you do this time, burn the whole mill down? You must have really messed up to get stuck with a donkey for a master.” Namir made a face at him and headed down the alley that led to the street.
Josiah glowered after Namir, trying to think of a retort to hurl after him. Before he could, ten-year-old Eban tugged at Josiah’s sleeve. “A wizard, Josiah? Where are you going?”
Josiah grinned at Eban. “All over Tevenar,” he boasted. “Up into the mountains, and down south, and even to Elathir.”
“You’re so lucky.” Eban regarded his older brother with envy.
“Mother wants you to run over to the Mother’s Hall. Tell them Wizard Elkan is eating supper with us, so not to
expect him until later.”
“All right.” Eban dashed away.
His father and Elkan were deep in conversation across the donkey’s back, so Josiah headed for the rectangle of warm light streaming from the doorway. As soon as he crossed the threshold, his mother spotted him and called, “Josiah, we’re going to need more water.”
“Yes, Mother.” Josiah picked up the buckets from their place by the door, and went out through the shop into the dark street.
As he made his way to the public fountain where Potter’s Way met Cobbler’s Street, Josiah welcomed a few quiet minutes alone to think. Everything had happened so quickly. The reality of his change of fortune was only now sinking in.
When he’d first begun to consider what trade he might choose to enter, there had been so many fascinating possibilities. From a very young age he’d sat in his mother’s or father’s lap at the wheel and shaped the clay, just as Adina had been doing today, but the familiar processes of the potter’s craft held no attraction for him. Besides, with both Benta and Namir apprenticed to their parents, the shop had no need of further workers. He was far more inclined to follow their eldest brother Yered’s example and apprentice to a trade outside the family. Yered had traveled all the way to Elathir to learn the craft of shipbuilding.
During the year before their apprenticing, all the young men and women of Tevenar were expected to explore the possibilities of the different crafts. Josiah and his friends had loved venturing from shop to shop. The masters had welcomed them, showed them around, and let them set their hands to various tasks. Josiah kneaded dough and feasted on sweet cakes with the bakers, cut and shaped soft leather with the cobblers, and sewed with the tailors. Groups of youngsters ventured to the edge of town to observe the tanners, coopers, and smiths at work, and into the surrounding countryside to learn about the herders and farmers. Just when Josiah thought he had identified a craft he could dedicate his life to, another would come along he liked even better. In his daydreams he became a master weaver, creating beautiful tapestries, a master stonemason, erecting grand buildings, even a sailor or fisher, venturing from the docks at Elathir into the vastness of the ocean.
The Fuller's Apprentice (The Chronicles of Tevenar Book 1) Page 2