Elkan looked at him without saying anything. Josiah squirmed. The longer the silence lasted, the stupider his words seemed.
Finally he shook his head. “All right. I get it. I need to think before I jump into doing risky things like that.” His voice went bitter. “People have been telling me that all my life. I try, I swear I do. Only it never does any good.”
“Maybe because you worry that if you let yourself stop and think, you’ll decide that a momentary thrill isn’t worth the risk of permanent injury.”
Josiah’s heart sank into his belly. “So I should never do anything fun, if there’s even a little risk that someone might get hurt?”
“I didn’t say that. Maybe your potential enjoyment is worth taking the risk. Or maybe it isn’t. I just think it’s better to make that decision consciously, after considering the potential risks and benefits, instead of rushing blindly into something so you can pretend you’re not actually making a choice.”
Josiah shoved his hands into his wet pockets and hunched his shoulders. “I guess.”
“Josiah, the Mother’s gift of free will is both precious and dangerous. Most people take it for granted, but wizards never can. The Mother holds us to higher standards than others, because our actions can have such huge consequences for good or ill.” Elkan sighed. “That’s not something you have to worry about. But even though you’re not a wizard, your choices matter. I don’t think you did anything wrong today. Yan made his own choices. But you were impulsive and thoughtless, as it seems you often are. That’s an aspect of your personality you’re going to have to learn to control as you get older. I can help, if you want me to.”
Josiah shrugged. “Sure.” He doubted there was much the wizard could do. He’d been getting in trouble for his impulsive behavior for as long as he could remember. But if Elkan had anything useful to teach him, he’d try to learn.
They walked along in silence for a few minutes. Eventually Elkan said, “Anything else?”
Josiah licked his lips. How could the wizard tell there was another subject he wanted desperately to talk to someone about? At home he would have taken it to one of his friends, or perhaps his father. But they weren’t here.
“Um, yeah, there is, actually.” He tried to think of a way to say it that sounded mature and sophisticated instead of clueless and overwhelmed. But he couldn’t, so eventually he just blurted out the bare truth. “I kissed her.”
Only slightly widened eyes betrayed Elkan’s surprise. All he said was, “Oh?”
Josiah studied the ground beneath his feet. “Ledah. She came and sat beside me, and held my hand, and looked at me… So I kissed her. I never kissed a girl before.” He risked a sidelong glance at Elkan.
The wizard’s face was carefully neutral. “Mmm.”
Emboldened, Josiah went on. “I mean, I’ve thought about it. But I guess I always expected I’d be older.”
Elkan ran a hand through his wet hair. “How do you feel about it?”
“Good, I guess. I mean, I liked it. A lot. I didn’t want to stop. But then Yan fell…”
Elkan nodded. “How do you feel about Ledah?”
Josiah looked at the ground again. “I like her. But I only met her the day before yesterday. I don’t know very much about her. She said she likes me. She said when she makes journeyman she might move to Korisan.”
Elkan ran his hand through his hair again. “I know I’m not actually your master, but I’m filling that role right now, so I’m responsible for guiding you and keeping you out of trouble.” He flashed a wry grin at Josiah. “I’m not upset with you. It’s normal for you to want to explore. It sounds like you and Ledah were both willing participants. She didn’t push you to do anything you didn’t want to, did she?”
Josiah’s face was hot. “No. She just… offered.”
“Remember you’re always free to accept or reject what is offered. And your partner is always free to accept or reject what you offer. There’s no shame in turning down the opportunity to do more than you’re ready for. Kissing is powerful. It’s likely to arouse desires for more in both of you. But that doesn’t mean you have to proceed, even if she wants to. You’re very young; it’s a long time until you become a journeyman and can consider standing up with someone. Take your time.”
Josiah had never felt so embarrassed, but at the same time he welcomed Elkan’s candor. “I will.”
Elkan glanced at Sar. “And when the time comes you do feel ready, talk to me or another wizard. We can use the Mother’s power to suppress your fertility. It’s safe and temporary, and doesn’t effect your body’s functioning in any other way.” He raised his eyebrows at Josiah. “And remember, too early is better than too late. We were just talking about your tendency to jump into things without thinking. I really don’t want some girl to bring you before me in court and force me to look for evidence that you fathered her baby.”
Josiah’s face flamed. “I’ll remember.” He pictured Elkan, hand on Sar’s neck, opening a window that revealed him with Ledah on the rocks by the waterfall, and blushed even more fiercely.
“Good. Those sorts of situations are painful for everyone. Both guilds have to get involved. Sometimes the age requirement for journeyman status for the parents can be waived, but sometimes it’s better for the child to become a ward of its kinguild and be placed with adoptive parents. Usually everyone wants something different. It can be nearly impossible to reach a true consensus. And it’s all so unnecessary. Anyone can come to the Mother’s Hall at any time. We won’t ask questions, and we won’t judge.”
Josiah vaguely remembered hearing something of the sort, but he’d never paid attention. It had never seemed relevant. It still didn’t, but now he could imagine that someday it might be. The thought was both disturbing and alluring. “I understand.”
To Josiah’s great relief, Elkan didn’t pursue the subject any farther. “I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to tell me. You don’t have to—it’s a private subject—but any time you want to talk more, I’ll listen. And if you have any questions, now or any time in the future, feel free to ask. I’ll do my best to answer them.”
“Thanks. It helps to talk to someone who understands.” Josiah frowned. “I mean, I guess you understand. Do wizards even do that sort of thing? Kiss and fall in love and get married?”
Elkan laughed. “Of course. We are human, you know. We can wed if we want, though many choose not to. The Mother’s service is demanding, and we usually prefer not to divide our energies between our work and a family. But some find the rewards worth it.”
“So have you ever—” Josiah stopped. That was an awfully personal question.
Elkan spoke lightly. “I’ve kissed my share of girls. I even thought I was in love once, but it didn’t work out. It’s just as well. The Mother’s work is more than enough for me.”
He was smiling, but his expression was closed to any further inquiries. Josiah nodded, and they walked for a while in silence.
Eventually Josiah realized he still had one question. “So what should I do, when we get back to the village and I see her again?”
Elkan studied him. “What do you want to do?”
Josiah’s face was hot again. “Um… I’d really like to kiss her some more. But it’s not like I’m in love with her or anything, and we have to leave in just a couple days…”
“I suggest you allow her to lead the way. Be careful not to mislead her into believing you feel more for her than you do, and allow her to be honest about her feelings for you. Do your best not to hurt her. Though both of you are bound to be hurt sooner or later, if not by each other, then by someone else.”
Josiah sighed, bemused and a bit resentful. This was much more complicated than he wanted it to be. Why couldn’t he just enjoy the wonderful feelings that washed over him with every thought of Ledah’s full lips and curvy body, without worrying about responsibilities and getting hurt and love and babies and all that other stuff?
They reached the village,
so anything else Josiah might want to talk with Elkan about would have to wait until later. The villagers, including Ledah and the other apprentices, must have already scattered back to their homes, for none of them were to be seen. The sun was down, and twilight was giving way to full dark.
Elkan and Josiah went in to Master Galia’s house, and gratefully changed into dry clothes and ate the evening meal. Elkan left with Sar to go by Yan’s home and make a quick check on their patient’s welfare.
Josiah curled up in the soft feather bed under thick woolen blankets. Alone and quiet for the first time since the events of the afternoon, he thought back over all that had happened. The helpless shock of seeing Yan fall and hearing the crack as his head hit the rock still haunted him, but Yan was all right now, so he was able to dismiss those thoughts from his mind. He allowed himself to think back on the infinitely more pleasant memory of Ledah’s lips warm on his, and wrapped in sweet reflection, he fell asleep.
* * *
The next day the villagers kept Elkan and Josiah busy with conflicts requiring judgment. Most of the cases were minor, simple disputations of the facts, quickly cleared up when Elkan opened a window to show what actually happened. But midway through the morning, the two quarreling neighbor women appeared. Their case took the rest of the time until the noon break.
Elkan was easily able to show the missing cabbages had been the work of marauding deer, not vandalism. But the two women raised point after point they wanted him to investigate, going back many months. Josiah and the other spectators were treated to a lengthy display of dozens of acts of petty viciousness and malicious nastiness, in which both women bore an equal share of guilt.
Eventually, Elkan proceeded far enough into the past that he was unable to look farther. He looked tired, his calm patience was fraying, and despite his best efforts he was unable to mediate any settlement between the two women. Finally, Elkan announced no resolution was possible. A strident bray from Sar backed up his words.
“In the Mother’s name, I declare both parties even. All previous transgressions are null, and you start fresh from this moment. I advise you both to take advantage of this new beginning and leave off your malice toward each other. You can continue this feud and bring your complaints to the next wizard to pass through, or you can make peace with each other. It’s your choice.”
Elkan rose and stalked from the hall. Sar and Josiah followed him to Galia’s for the midday meal, while the rest of the villagers scattered. Elkan applied himself to his food in tense silence. Galia and Josiah watched him nervously, as if he might explode at any moment.
Eventually he looked up. He ran a hand through his hair and grinned ruefully at them. “I’m all right. I just get frustrated whenever I’m reminded the Mother’s power can’t heal all the ills of the world. My master back in Elathir would say it was good for me to have my pride deflated every now and then.”
After the meal Elkan, Sar and Josiah returned to the hall. Josiah’s hand was cramped from all the writing by the time the last of the cases was heard and settled. A few minor healing cases had accumulated through the day; Elkan and Sar soon took care of them. Once the last of the villagers dispersed, Josiah and Elkan moved the furniture back to its customary arrangement.
After the evening meal they sat by the fire. Elkan brought out his map and went over their route with Galia, who filled him in on any changes since the last wizard had passed through. She pointed out a number of isolated farmsteads that might need their help or be willing to host them for the night.
A knock sounded on the door. Galia went to answer it, and called Josiah over.
Ledah stood there. “Can you come out and walk with me, Josiah?”
His face hot, he glanced over at Elkan for permission. The wizard nodded, a knowing smile on his face. “While you’re out, could you run over to the house where Meira’s staying and confirm we’ll be leaving at dawn tomorrow?”
Josiah nodded, glad to have the pretext of a simple errand to give an appearance of normality to his venture.
“Don’t stay out too long. You’ll need your sleep; morning comes early.”
“I won’t.” Josiah stepped out into the night, the door closing behind him.
Ledah reached for his hand. “Come on. Meira’s been staying with the Brewers; I’ll show you the way.”
They walked along the main road together. The stars were bright overhead, and yellow firelight spilled out the windows of homes.
The Brewers’ home was on the outskirts of the village. Meira, a sleepy Ravid in her arms, assured Josiah that she’d be packed and ready to leave first thing in the morning. Josiah and Ledah bid her good night and headed back toward town.
“Come on,” Ledah said, pulling Josiah down a side path. “Let’s walk down by the river.”
Josiah agreed. Night closed in around them, but Ledah strode with the assurance of one who had walked these paths in daylight and darkness her whole life. Josiah followed, secure in her leadership.
When they came to the riverbank, they picked their way along until they came to a spot where a gentle slope led down to a bank of gravel at the water’s edge. Ledah bent to pick up a stone and skipped it across the dark water. The ripples that spread as it bounced shattered the reflected moonlight into millions of splinters.
They watched the water together. Ledah turned to him, and with a feeling of inevitability Josiah put his arms around her. Their kiss was long and slow and gentle.
Ledah laid her head on his shoulder. Josiah awkwardly stroked her hair. “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you, too.” She toyed with his fingers. “We might never see each other again.”
Josiah swallowed. “If you do come to Korisan after you make journeyman, my parents are Masters Hyam and Jensine Potter, on Potter’s Street. They’ll know where I am. I’m not sure if I’ll be back at the fulling mill then, or someplace else.”
“I’ll remember,” she assured him. She in turn was silent for a while. “You don’t owe me anything, Josiah. I mean, I’m not asking for any promises, or making any. This has been fun for both of us, that’s all.”
“Yes.” Josiah’s voice was rough. That’s what he wanted, wasn’t it? He was relieved she’d said it first. There couldn’t be anything binding between them, even if either of them had wanted it. But still… “You don’t owe me anything either.”
She sighed. “I’m glad we understand each other.” She lifted her head.
Her lips were hungry on his. Josiah lost himself in her sweetness, swept by dizzying waves of sensation that wiped away all other awareness but the fire of their touch.
At length they parted, caught their breaths, and kissed some more. Josiah was quite sure he could go on kissing Ledah forever. But eventually they tired a little, and Ledah again laid her head on his shoulder, her hands running along his back.
He tightened his arms around her. Elkan’s words of the previous afternoon flashed into his mind. He did want more. He wasn’t entirely sure of all the details of what his body was telling him it desired, but he had a pretty good idea of where it would end, and there was no way he was ready to go there yet.
Once again they kissed, slower this time, more gently. Josiah surrendered to the confusion of feeling frustrated and deeply satisfied at the same time.
Reluctantly, Ledah pulled away. “It’s getting late. Elkan expects you back. And my parents will be starting to worry.”
“Yes.” His hand played with a lock of her hair. “We should go.”
Neither moved. With a rueful laugh, Ledah moved in for one more kiss. “Now come on,” she ordered.
She turned back toward Galia’s house, but Josiah stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Let me walk you home.”
“Oh, all right. You’re sure you can find your way back in the dark?”
Josiah assured her he could. They made their way through the night towards Ledah’s home, not without several more stops along the way. But eventually, inevitably, they stood outside he
r door.
“I’d better not come see you off in the morning. It would just slow you down, and Elkan wouldn’t like that.”
“No. We’re leaving at dawn. You should sleep.”
“I’m usually up at dawn anyway, to feed the chickens and gather eggs. But you’re right. I won’t come.”
“This is good-bye, then.”
“Yes.” She kissed him for the last time, warm and gentle and not nearly long enough. She smiled into his eyes. “Good-bye, Josiah. May the Mother watch over you in your travels.”
He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Good-bye, Ledah. May the Mother watch over you, too.”
She pushed the door open, it closed behind her, and she was gone. Josiah walked blindly through the night, his heart a complex tangle of emotions he didn’t even try to sort out. All he could concentrate on were images, impressions, sensations. Her lips, her eyes, her hands tumbled in tantalizing circles around him all the way back to Galia’s house and followed him into his dreams.
Nine
He was getting far too accustomed, Josiah decided, to rising before dawn. He yawned as he dressed and stuffed his belongings into his pack.
The first grey light of what promised to be a foggy and overcast day revealed Meira making her way down the road. Ravid was strapped to her back, and she led a laden donkey. It closely resembled Sar, except its grey was a few shades browner and it stood a handspan taller. Sar swiveled his ears toward the strange donkey, and the two animals put their noses together.
“Sar, this is Thistle,” Meira said. “She came with Ravid and me from Shalinthan.”
Elkan supervised the distribution of fresh supplies between their packs and the donkey’s burdens. As the brightening of the clouds in the east signaled the unseen sun’s arrival, the little group set out. Josiah noticed Meira look back in the direction of the cemetery. When she turned her face forward again, she wore a closed, private expression. He quickly averted his eyes.
The Fuller's Apprentice (The Chronicles of Tevenar Book 1) Page 12