But the dark eyes that met Josiah’s as he looked up in defiance were cold, and still, and controlled. Kabos stood, one hand gripping Josiah’s shoulder like the talons of an eagle, the other equally firm on Nirel. He looked slowly back and forth between them.
Nirel was in tears. “It’s all lies, Father, I swear! I didn’t do anything. I’d never disobey you like that.”
Kabos turned his gaze on her. “Go to the bedroom. Now. Don’t come out until they’re gone.”
She bowed her head meekly. “Yes, sir.” He released her, and she fled toward the house.
Josiah searched frantically for anything he could say to salvage his plan. “It’s true. I… I talked her into it. I… we…”
Kabos cut him off. “Do you think I’m stupid, boy? Do you think I don’t know what your master can do? Neither of you will ever see me set one toe across the line of what wizards consider proper.” He thrust Josiah away and released him. “Load up your donkeys and leave my land. My family is my concern, not yours. I’ll discipline them as I see fit after you’re gone.”
He stalked toward the house. A dizzy, sick feeling washed over Josiah and settled like a boulder in the pit of his stomach. Not only had his plan failed, but he had made things much, much worse for Nirel.
Not knowing what else to do, he plodded back down to the goat shed and mechanically began fitting Sar’s harness into place. The donkey seemed aware of his distress, blowing at him and nuzzling him. Josiah leaned against the donkey’s warm side. “Oh, Sar, I messed up.” Kabos was going to hurt Nirel after they left, Josiah was sure, and it was his fault. “I’ve got to do something, but I don’t know what anymore. I was so sure my plan was going to work…”
Josiah scrubbed angrily at the tears forming in his eyes and threw himself into loading the donkey, heaving up the bundles and slamming them into place with far more force than necessary. Sar laid back his ears, stamped a foot, and brayed. Contrite, Josiah moderated his movements, muttering, “Sorry, Sar.”
When both donkeys were fully laden, he led Thistle by her halter out into the yard where Elkan and Meira waited. Sar pushed past him and went to Elkan. Wizard and familiar looked into each other’s eyes for a few moments. Josiah handed Thistle’s lead rope to Meira and went to get his pack.
As he shouldered it, Sathea came out, Ilana held close. She approached Elkan, who broke off his communion with Sar. “I just want to thank you again for everything you’ve done.” She turned Ilana toward him. The baby looked livelier and healthier already. Elkan stroked a gentle finger down her cheek.
He turned a meaningful gaze on Sathea. “If there’s anything else you need help with, anything at all, don’t hesitate to send a message to me, or speak with any other wizard who comes through. Especially the matter we spoke of earlier.”
Sathea nodded, her face closed and expressionless. “I’m sure we’ll be fine.”
Josiah bit his lip. He wanted to shout a warning and urge Sathea to protect Nirel from her husband’s anger. But he couldn’t do that without admitting his own role in the morning’s events, and he was certain Elkan would strongly disapprove. It wouldn’t make a difference, anyway. He could see that from the discouraged slump of Sathea’s shoulders and her downcast eyes.
“Tell Nirel good-bye from me,” he muttered. “And… I’m sorry.” In response to their quizzical looks, he turned away. “She’ll know what I mean.”
Elkan frowned at him but turned back to the exchange of farewells. Soon the little party made its way down the trail, back to the main road and on toward Tathorlith.
The morning was bright and sunny, the air balmy with the warmth of the advancing spring, birds chirping cheerily in the trees. But for Josiah it might as well have been overcast and gloomy, growing stormier with each step they took. He couldn’t turn his thoughts away from the house they left behind and what he was sure must be happening there.
Barely half an hour into their journey, he could stand it no longer. “Um, Elkan, I need to stop.” He gestured to the small shovel attached to Sar’s harness.
Elkan unfastened it and handed it to him. “You couldn’t have taken care of it before we left?”
“Sorry.” He didn’t dare meet the wizard’s eyes. “And, um, my stomach is bothering me, so it might take a while.”
Elkan sighed. “Please don’t take too long if you can help it. If you’ve caught something or eaten something bad, we can help.”
“No, I’m fine,” Josiah called back as he hastily made his way into the woods.
As soon as trees and brush concealed him from the trail, he pushed his way through the woods, back the way they’d come. When he figured he’d gone far enough, he circled back to the trail. He ran, head down and panting, his mind repeating a silent, inarticulate prayer that he would make it in time.
He expected Elkan and Meira would eventually wonder what was taking him so long and investigate. But with any luck, he’d have enough of a lead that they wouldn’t catch him before he reached the farm. As to what he would find there… He shook his head and ran faster.
When he neared the farm, he slowed. He heard nothing but goats bleating in the distance. He pushed into the underbrush beside the road, concealed himself in the largest, thickest bush he could find, and peered into the clearing.
The little farm lay tranquil in the warm morning sun. Grazing goats dotted the grassy space surrounding the house. Puffs of smoke rose lazily from the chimney, drifting away on the gentle wind.
Josiah stared at the house, clenching his fists at his side. Was he too late after all? Or would Kabos carry out his violence within the concealment of his walls?
Josiah eyed the distance between the edge of the forest and the cottage. There was no cover, only patchy grass. And even if he managed to get there without drawing Kabos’s attention, he wouldn’t have any way to look in. The cottage’s two small windows had been shuttered against the previous night’s cold and rain and were still unopened.
Maybe he could sneak around and see if there was another entrance. Most of the mountain holdings had a back door opening into the storeroom. Could he slip in unobserved and at least hear something? Would Elkan accept overheard cries as enough evidence to intervene?
A hand descended on Josiah’s shoulder. He jumped and jerked around, pulse hammering in his ears, certain Kabos had found him. But it was Elkan, though the glower on his face was nearly as intimidating as the farmer’s would have been. Sar poked his head around Elkan and fixed Josiah with an equally disapproving stare.
“Josiah.” Elkan’s voice was quiet and cold. “Come with me. We’re leaving.”
Josiah hung his head and turned back stubbornly to the clearing. Elkan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Josiah, I know you understand why I can’t let you do this. We have no business here any more. Now, come, unless you want me to put you on Sar’s back and—”
“Look!” Josiah grabbed Elkan’s arm. The wizard looked reflexively where Josiah pointed.
Nirel emerged from the cottage. With slow, dragging steps she made her way to the bushes at the edge of the clearing, a few dozen feet along the tree line from their hiding place. She began to examine branches, running each through her fingers before discarding it.
Josiah turned to Elkan, baffled. “What’s she doing?” Perhaps Kabos had refrained from punishing her after all. Was she choosing materials for some craft, a basket, perhaps? Now her head was bent over some long, thin branches sent forth by a bush in its vigorous spring growth. Slowly she drew her belt knife and cut one. Sheathing her knife, she stripped the green leaves from the branch’s length. Josiah would have felt reassured, but her movements were so slow and heavy…
Elkan frowned, biting his lip. He began to speak, but fell silent, watching Nirel make her way back to the cottage. She scrubbed a forearm across her eyes, drew a deep breath, and straightened her shoulders. Resolutely she marched up to the door, jerked it opened, and entered.
“Elkan, what is it? What’s going on?” Josi
ah was sure the wizard knew something from the torn look on his face.
“I suspect…” Elkan swallowed. “I suspect Kabos told her to cut a switch for him to use.”
“A switch?” Josiah was confused. “But why…” He followed Elkan’s eyes to the closed and silent cottage, the grim set of the wizard’s mouth telling the terrible truth.
“To—to beat her with, you mean.” He stared in horror at Elkan until the wizard slowly, reluctantly nodded. With a cry Josiah tore himself out of Elkan’s grasp. Easily, because Elkan’s fingers on his arm and shoulder had gone limp.
Josiah raced across the clearing to the cottage. He wrenched the door open and stopped, shocked at the scene before him.
Nirel stood, bent over, head down, hands braced on the back of a chair. Her breeches were down around her knees. Kabos stood behind her, arm raised, the long thin switch in his hand. As Josiah watched, his arm descended, slashing the switch across the small round curves of Nirel’s bare buttocks. Nirel jerked, but made no sound. The switch rose again, leaving behind a long red welt. It joined two more red lines and a multitude of fine white ones already striping her smooth brown skin.
Josiah stood frozen, a shout stuck in his throat. Kabos was so intent he hadn’t yet noticed the open door. Sathea looked up with wide, frightened eyes from where she knelt, Ilana in one arm, the other wrapped around the crying Yarin. Forcing his limbs to move, Josiah stumbled forward, his only thought to interpose his own body between Nirel and the falling switch.
Before he could get there, golden light shot past him and splashed into Kabos, enveloping him and freezing him in place. Enormously relieved, Josiah turned to see Elkan towering in the doorway, Sar at his side, terrible in his controlled fury.
“Enough.” A swift gesture sent Kabos into a chair and bound him there. Kabos strained against his immaterial bonds, eyes blazing, but the golden power held him still and silent.
Elkan stepped inside, his left hand never straying from Sar’s neck. His right hand went down toward Nirel. More gold light spilled out and swept away the fresh marks, leaving only three more thin white scars among the rest. “Sathea, help your daughter.”
Leaving the wailing Yarin, Sathea moved to help Nirel pull up her underwear and breeches.
“See, Elkan? I told you! I told you he hit her. You wouldn’t listen, but I was right. Now you’ll have to—”
“Quiet!” The full force of Elkan’s anger turned on Josiah. “I’ll deal with you later. Now fetch some ropes so we can bind him.”
Sar’s ears were plastered back. The whites of his eyes showed as he snaked his head back and forth between Kabos and Josiah. Josiah swallowed and backed away. He darted to the storage room. Rummaging about on the shelves, he found a coil of stout rope and pulled it down. He clutched it for a moment, reluctant to face the wizard and donkey’s anger.
Drawing a deep breath, he straightened his shoulders. He regretted nothing. No matter what punishment Elkan might mete out, the wizard had seen Kabos’ crime with his own eyes and couldn’t deny it. Nirel and Sathea would be rescued from his tyranny. He’d accomplished what he set out to do, and that was worth any price he might have to pay.
Elkan stood grim and wordless, holding Kabos in his chair. Meira had come into the cottage and spoke quietly to Sathea, whose arms were wrapped around Nirel. Taking comfort and satisfaction from the sight of Kabos still helpless in the wizard’s grip, Josiah handed Elkan the rope.
Nirel broke away from her mother and flew at Josiah. “You leave my father alone! Nobody asked you to interfere. I wish you all would just go away. Everything was fine until you came!”
Josiah gaped at her. Elkan, Sar pressed close to his side, interposed himself between Josiah and the furious girl. She dropped the fists she’d raised to strike Josiah and turned away.
Elkan’s voice became a bit more gentle. “Nirel, your father won’t be harmed. But he must be held accountable for what he’s done.”
She stared at the floor, voice tight with the effort not to cry. “He hasn’t done anything wrong.”
Sathea reached a hand toward her daughter, face distraught. “Nirel—”
Elkan closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, his face was weary and strained. “We’ll take all of you to Tathorlith and present your case to the town council. You’ll have a chance to tell your side of the story. Josiah, help me.”
Together Josiah and Elkan bound Kabos to the chair. Elkan’s movements were hampered by his need to keep in contact with Sar. Once Kabos was bound, the golden glow evaporated. Kabos thrashed for a moment. Finding his bonds secure, he glared at Elkan. “Smash and burn and blast you, you malformed discard of an drunken apprentice—”
“Quiet,” Elkan snapped. “We’ll gag you if we have to.” He reached for another length of rope, but Kabos subsided.
Elkan wiped his brow with his sleeve and ran a hand through his hair. He surveyed the room, his eyes going from person to person. Josiah wondered what he would do next. When Elkan’s gaze fell on him, he met it with as much assurance as he could muster. Elkan shook his head. He looked at Sar. The donkey put his ears forward and cocked his head, and for a long moment they communicated.
Finally Elkan turned back. “Sathea, pack what your family will need for the journey to Tathorlith. Nirel, help her.” Nirel started to protest, but Sathea hushed her, and ushered her into the other room. Yarin tagged behind them.
“Meira, would you come here?” Elkan dragged two chairs away from the table and positioned them close together. “We’re going to open a window and look at the truth of what’s happened here. Will you serve as a witness, please?”
Meira nodded and took a seat, shifting Ravid from her back onto her lap. Elkan sat and angled his chair so he could keep an eye on Kabos beyond where the gold-rimmed window would open. Sar moved into position beside the wizard. Josiah edged closer, eager to see.
Elkan twisted in his seat and looked at him. “Josiah, go draw water and put out hay, enough to last the goats a week. It will be at least that long before anyone gets back here to tend them. No, wait. The does won’t be able to go that long without being milked. We’ll have to take them with us. Round them up, along with their kids.
Disappointed, Josiah nodded and headed for the door. As he went out, he caught a glimpse of the golden ball taking shape above Elkan’s upturned hand.
The trough in the shed was large, and it took Josiah many trips to the well to fill it. The sun was high now, and he was soon sweating. Turning to the hay, he wrestled down several large, awkward sheaves, until he judged it would be enough.
The goats were scattered about the farm and had no desire to cooperate with Josiah. He spotted a mother goat, udder heavy with milk, twin kids capering nearby, and tried to herd her gently toward the shed. She evaded his efforts with ease. He fetched a length of rope and tried to put it around her neck. She escaped. He chased her round and round the farm, until finally he was able to throw himself on her back and force the loop over her head. He threw all his strength into dragging her. She dug in all four hooves; he jerked and tugged; her kids bleated pitifully. When finally they reached the shed and he tied her up, Josiah was exhausted. He looked in despair at the rest of the scattered goats, spotting at least four others with milk.
A derisive snort sounded. Nirel brushed past him. She went out among the goats, whistling and clucking, and in a few moments all of them clustered around her. She separated the milk goats and sent them ahead of her in a neatly bunched group down to the shed.
One by one, she tied them. Josiah joined her, careful not to get in her way.
Still without saying a word, Nirel turned back to the cottage. Josiah bit his lip. “Nirel…” he began uncertainly.
She whirled on him. “Shut up.” Turning her back, she marched to the cottage and vanished inside.
After a hastily scrounged midday meal, the unlikely party set out. Elkan led the way, Sar beside him, prodding Kabos ahead of them. The farmer had settled into sullen
resignation. His hands were still bound, but Elkan and Sar remained alert, ready to thwart any attempt at escape. The two women followed behind, babies on their backs, taking turns holding Yarin’s hand and helping him past rough spots in the trail. When the toddler tired, Sar consented to bear him, and he perched atop the donkey’s load.
Nirel herded the goats, a forbidding scowl warning off anyone who tried to speak to her. Josiah led Thistle, trudging under the greatly increased weight of his pack. Kabos refused to carry a pack, and Elkan felt it wiser to refrain from forcing him. The women were burdened with the children, and wizard and familiar must remain maneuverable enough to deal with their prisoner, so a large portion of the family’s gear and supplies had fallen to Josiah to carry. Thistle bore the rest. She resented this turn of events and took every opportunity to express her displeasure with contrary behavior. Josiah constantly fought to keep her from turning aside after every patch of grass or green bush they passed.
Elkan pressed on into the evening, but finally called a halt at sunset. Josiah had to do most of the work of setting up camp. By the time he pitched both tents and gathered sufficient firewood, Sathea and Nirel had finished milking the goats, and Elkan had secured Kabos. Feet again bound, the farmer sat on a rock near the fire and watched the activity around him with a sullen glower. Every now and then Sathea would glance at him, then look away and bury herself in her work.
They finally settled down to an evening meal of bread and goat’s milk. Elkan unbound Kabos’ hands and watched him closely as the farmer wordlessly accepted what he was given and ate. Afterward, the women and children crowded into Meira’s tent. Josiah headed for Elkan’s tent, wanting nothing more than to sink into exhausted sleep. He was still sure he’d done the right thing, but he’d certainly never pictured the awkward and messy consequences that would follow the proof of Kabos’ guilt. Just a couple more days on the road, he consoled himself. Surely they’d make it to Tathorlith the day after tomorrow, even as slowly as they must now travel.
The Fuller's Apprentice (The Chronicles of Tevenar Book 1) Page 15