Vasile gathered himself and told the attendant to bring the petitioner for the next case. Perhaps if he threw himself into his work he would forget Luphildern Quiss and the Five Oceans Mercantile Concern. But he knew he would remember, and knew he couldn’t let it rest.
Chapter Seventeen
Caldan clasped Master Garren’s hand warmly. Great relief flowed through him, and for a while he couldn’t speak.
Master Garren grinned at him. “You might not thank me in a few months. The work for new arrivals, apprentices or not, is hard.”
“That’s no problem. I want to learn more.”
“Ah, well you won’t be learning much for a while. Helping out the masters and the staff with the upkeep of the building will be your lot for some time. Depending on the other masters, and how much time they can spare, will determine your progress in other areas. Unless you show an aptitude far in excess of what I have seen today.”
Caldan’s shoulders drooped, but inside he felt positive about the opportunity he now had to be involved with the sorcerers and learn as much as he could. And have a roof over his head and food. He would never have thought such simple things would elicit so much emotion from him.
“I will write you a letter to be presented back here in five days.”
“Excuse me?” Caldan asked in shock. “Five days?”
“Yes, I have to organize a few things. It’s not as simple as clicking your fingers.” He punctuated his words by clicking the fingers of his right hand.
“I see.” Caldan hesitated. He needed somewhere to stay and food to eat, or he might turn up in five days worse for wear than he was now. “Ah… there is a slight problem.”
Master Garren snorted. “Come on, out with it.”
“I was robbed in the attack this morning,” Caldan said with a sheepish grin. “All my ducats were taken, and my room at the inn was only paid until today… “
“So you have no coins, no place to stay, and no way to eat?”
“Yes. It’s embarrassing, but I could use some help. Not coins. I can work to repay you. Whatever odd jobs or such, I am willing to take on.”
“Hmmm… I have to say, you don’t look like any of the usual apprentices we take on here. They tend to be bookish types, pale and scrawny or overweight, not as robust and athletic as yourself.”
“The monks teach that physical discipline is connected to mental discipline. Exercise and physical activity are encouraged.”
“Be that as it may, as I said earlier, we can’t take you on as an apprentice. But I have an idea. You can work for food and board until we can conduct some proper testing of your talent and abilities, then we’ll decide what training you require and how you can best be utilized.” He gave Caldan a hard look. “Nothing is for free in this world. You will be worked hard, perhaps harder than you have ever worked. And all we do is for the good of the guild. Your wants and needs come secondary to that. Do I make myself clear?”
Caldan swallowed. “Yes, sir. I understand.”
He didn’t know what he was getting into, but he needed some direction and stability for the time being. He realized he hadn’t known what he wanted since his expulsion from the monastery and subsequent troubles. He had been focused on finding something, any work to survive after his coins ran out. He hadn’t stopped to think what he wanted to do. Now it appeared his choice had been made for him out of necessity.
The master drew out a mechanical watch from a pocket and read the time.
“It’s late now. You’ll have to follow me. I’ll leave you with someone who can put you to use, and find you a meal and a place to sleep tonight.”
Relief flooded through Caldan for the second time. “Thank you. I appreciate this.”
“Better to find a use for someone with talent than to have you disappear onto the streets again. It happens all the time, you know. People go missing. Those with no ducats to their name have a hard life.”
“It isn’t what I expected of the empire, but I can believe it. It isn’t an experience I want to repeat, and it’s only been a day for me.”
“Yes, well… I am afraid you won’t be seeing any silver ducats for some time. Apprentices are occasionally rewarded for hard work and at certain milestones in their training. You are going to have to find another way to fill your purse.”
“Believe me, three meals a day and somewhere to sleep is my only thought at the moment.”
“Fair enough. Follow me. I’ll have to see who is available to take charge of you… The Protectors have space, so we’ll go and see Master Simmon. Oh, before I forget.” He scribbled briefly on a sheet of his own parchment from the desk then blew gently on it to dry the ink. Folding it in half, he handed the note to Caldan. “Proof for you to show anyone that asks,” he explained.
Garren led him out of the room and further down the corridor, then across an open courtyard. Dusk had fallen, and two glimmering stars peeked from the night above.
Down another corridor, they exited through thick double doors into a huge open space. A cobbled path arrowed out in front of them, splitting an immaculate lawn dotted with shrubs and trees. The path split towards the end as it approached another set of double doors. Master Garren hurried down the right path, through a section bordered by gray stone cubes every few yards, each big enough to sit on comfortably.
They continued through a gap in the building surrounding the garden and strode through the brief darkness. On the other side lay a torchlit courtyard, this one paved with flat sand-colored stone slabs. The guild was obviously much larger and more extensive than the public facade showing onto the square revealed.
Garren led him across the yard. Three circles were marked off with white chalk, the largest fifteen yards wide, much like the dueling circle used at the monastery for sword training. He realized that was exactly what they were.
They entered a dormitory. Narrow beds poked into the room from both side walls, each with a trunk at the foot. The room looked clean, and the beds were made up with linen sheets and gray woolen blankets. A muscular man with a trim black beard stood at the far end conversing with a boy sweeping the floor.
“Ah! Master Simmon.” Master Garren said. “A delivery for you.” He sounded amused.
The bearded man broke off his conversation and appraised them both. Gray eyes roved over them, lingering on Caldan but not stopping on his bruised and scarred face. He took a few steps in their direction, fluid, like water running downhill.
“Master Garren, I would have thought you would be at supper by now.” His voice was surprisingly smooth for someone so intimidating. He has a swordsman’s bearing, thought Caldan. Calm but tight, as if ready for anything.
Caldan opened his senses and reached out to evaluate Simmon’s well. It felt constricted and narrow, not at all what he would have expected from a Master Sorcerer. Perhaps the Protectors valued other skills over crafting.
A subtle vibration tugged at the edges of his awareness. Simmon wore a thin silver ring and bracelet on his right hand. Caldan’s heart raced. They were trinkets.
Garren laughed. “Not yet. I have one last task to finish. This is Caldan, a new recruit.”
Simmon stared at Caldan then looked back at Garren, expressionless. “What is he doing here?”
Caldan tried to fade into the background.
“That’s what I’m getting to. I haven’t placed him yet, and he needs somewhere to stay for a few days, until I get him sorted out. I thought he could stay here with the apprentices, for the time being.”
“Really?” drawled Simmon. “Not with the journeymen sorcerers? Or with the staff?”
“I thought there would be less chance for him to get into trouble here. It’s more… organized.”
Simmon gave a wry smile. “That it is,” he agreed. “Leave him with me. When do you need him back?”
“I’ll try for the day after tomorrow, if not, then definitely the day after. I’ll send a boy to pick him up.”
“Fair enough. I’ll find somethin
g to keep him occupied.”
“Excellent!” Master Garren beamed. He turned to Caldan. “Well, that’s you settled in.”
Hardly, thought Caldan. But he wasn’t about to argue so smiled instead. “Thank you again, Master Garren. I’m extremely grateful to you.”
Garren waved a hand in dismissal. “No thanks needed. Work hard, and do your best. Listen to Simmon here, and I’ll see you in a few days.”
“Yes, sir. I will.”
With a short nod to the other master, Garren turned and walked out of the dormitory.
Simmon gestured Caldan over to a bed with no linen on it. “Take this one. It’s not the best bed, being close to the door with the extra traffic that brings, but it’ll do you for a few days. Sheets are in the trunk, and you can lock your possessions in it. Key is in the lock.”
Caldan slipped his satchel from his shoulder onto the bed. “Thank you.”
“What happened to your face? A fight?”
“Yes, sir, with some thieves in Dockside. I was hit with a plank.”
Simmon shook his head in disgust. “Bloody harbor watch should be keeping the area safer for everyone.”
“They did save me.” Caldan felt he had to interject on their behalf; he wouldn’t like to do their job himself. “If they hadn’t come along I think I wouldn’t be here now. I’d probably be floating in the harbor instead.”
Simmon didn’t look convinced. “What’s your story?” He glanced at the boy, who had stopped sweeping the floor and stood staring at them. Seeing the master’s look, he quickly returned to sweeping, head down.
“Nothing special. I grew up on Eremite and felt I needed to see more of the world.”
Caldan knew telling the truth might generate more questions. Best to keep a low profile until he knew more about the place, sorcerers and the Protectors as well. He didn’t think telling them he had been exiled for almost killing someone would be a good start.
“Careful, I see. That’s good, but sooner or later we will know everything there is about you. If there is anything bad, you should tell us first, before we find out on our own.”
“Good advice. Thank you, sir. Um… I was raised by the monks at the monastery there after my parents… well, they died.”
Simmon nodded sympathetically. “They took you in?”
“Yes. I think they hoped I would eventually become one of them, teaching there or doing some other work to help the monastery. But it didn’t work out.”
“You studied there, though? Like the nobles’ sons and daughters, who go there for tutelage?”
“Among other things, yes. I joined in classes when I could. I learnt about a range of subjects and disciplines. But as I found out when I arrived, a good overall education and set of skills didn’t exactly set me up to be able to make a living here.”
“Ah, too old to become an apprentice and not enough proficiency in any single skill?”
Caldan shrugged. “I’m sure Master Garren will find something for me. He made me give him a demonstration of my crafting skill, and it must have impressed him enough.”
“Crafting as well? What else did you study?”
“Alchemy, metallurgy, Dominion, the Way of the Sword, some medicine, history…” He trailed off.
“I see, and nothing in enough depth that would allow you to step off the boat and take up a profession to earn a living.”
Caldan shifted uncomfortably on his feet and kept quiet.
“What are your strengths?” asked Simmon.
“Dominion and crafting,” answered Caldan without hesitation. “Then probably metallurgy and the Way of the Sword.”
“An interesting mix. The Way of the Sword — I haven’t heard it called that for a long time. Not since…” He broke off and shook his head. “Have you heard of Kelhak? He came from the monastery as well, won the Dominion tournament at the Autumn Festival a long time ago.”
“I have. He had a different reputation at the monastery, though. Exiled for something…” Caldan realized he had been exiled too, and his indiscretion wasn’t sinister or immoral. Maybe in a few years rumors about him would be circulating among the students at the monastery. He gave a wry laugh.
“Hmm. Do you know what Master Garren has in mind for you?”
“Probably helping out the masters. He mentioned I might get a chance to join some classes after a while.”
“Maybe, if you show an aptitude for a particular skill. It sounds like yours is a special case, a good grounding in a variety of different areas, but you haven’t focused on one in particular.”
“I guess not. It wasn’t as though I thought I needed to. Maybe I need to focus on one thing.”
“Depends. Some people have a talent for something, and if they are lucky, they find out what it is early. Others, well, they never find out.”
“I guess so.”
“Yours is crafting, though. You can access your well every time you try?”
“Yes, though there wasn’t much of a focus on it at the monastery. Most students didn’t have the talent or had it weakly, so they taught more theory than practice.”
“Usually anyone with significant talent is found early by the journeyman sorcerers. It’s unlikely someone slipped through, especially a noble’s offspring.”
Simmon paused as three young apprentices entered the dormitory. They saw the master there and hurriedly removed some books from their chests and left as quickly as possible.
“May I ask something, Master Simmon?”
“Go ahead.”
“Is there a library or archives? I mean, I’m sure there is, but would I be able to have access to it?”
“I don’t see why not, and yes, there is a library for apprentices. Any of them can show you where it is. Why?”
Caldan wasn’t going to tell him about his trinket and his desire to track down his family history. “I want to study as much as I can, in whatever spare time I have. Maybe if I can learn more I can be of more use to Master Garren.”
“You only have a couple of days before he returns for you, and you look like you need some rest.” Simmon gestured at Caldan’s bruised face. “Take it easy for a while, recover.”
“I’ll try to take your advice, Master Simmon. In truth, I feel like I could use a break. My few days here have been draining.”
“I can see. Well, we’d better get some food into you. Leave your stuff here, and lock it up.”
Caldan complied and waited for the master to continue.
“Follow me. I’ll take you to the meal hall, where supper is being served. You’ll take all your meals there.”
The meal hall was located close to the dormitory and was mostly empty. There were large tables dotted with a few clusters of young boys and girls, apprentices he guessed, with a few older men and women. Two men dressed in dark robes conversed in hushed tones at the end of the hall.
Supper consisted of a bowl of boiled greens, a few slices of peppery lamb, a chunk of coarse-grained bread, and a mug of weak brown ale.
Caldan was left on his own to finish his meal, with instructions to return to the dormitory and have a good night’s sleep. He ate slowly, though he was famished, savoring each mouthful. He had never been a day without food, not even overnight. He felt the meal significant and reflected on how the day could have finished if he hadn’t been accepted. As he swallowed each mouthful and sipped his ale, he thought on the homeless men at the docks, vowing he would never end up like them.
Chapter Eighteen
Elpidia plumped the pillow with both hands to no avail. She had tossed and turned for hours until the faint dawn light peeked through her bedroom window. Exhausted, she lay back, but a few moments later she gave up. It was no use.
She scratched the rash spreading down her neck. It had itched terribly the last few days, and all the unguents and oils she had to sooth such problems, that had served her customers well, hadn’t eased her discomfort.
A tear welled in her eye. She wiped it away with a trembling hand then l
urched out of bed. A squat, square jar stood on her dresser, waiting for her to apply her morning treatment. With two fingers, she rubbed the pungent homemade ointment onto her rash.
She replaced the stopper and for a few long moments stared at the jar, her own handwriting scrawled across the label: ‘Trial number 27, for use on skin only’.
In a swift convulsive movement she dashed the jar against the wall, where it smashed into tiny pieces. Ointment dripped down onto the floor.
She dropped her head into her hands and wept.
Later, when she had recovered enough self-control to stop crying, she swept up the glass shards and wiped away the ointment. It had left a stain on the wall, but what was one more stain compared to dying from the Great Pox?
The symptoms had started a year ago, a few weeks after her husband, a soldier with the empire’s territorial army, returned to his station along the southern border. Due to his rank, he was permitted a brief leave every year, and had to her great surprise and delight returned to Anasoma to spend time with her. Though he had seemed distant, she told herself it was the stress of being away from her and his family for long periods, coupled with the thought of returning soon.
Travel time had constrained his visit to a seven day before he rushed back to his post on one of the empire’s provisioning ships sailing down the coast.
The note she had returned home to find was brief. I am sorry, I have found someone else. I hope you can forgive me. A single gold ducat rested on the note. After nine years together, it was a crushing blow. Elpidia spent a few days locked away alone, seeing no one. Soon after, she found out he had taken all their savings, though he couldn’t sell the house they lived in, where she conducted her business, without her knowledge. She assumed that’s why she still had somewhere to live.
A Crucible of Souls (Book One of the Sorcery Ascendant Sequence) (Volume 1) Paperback Page 19