The Wheelwright's Apprentice (22 page)

35

Three months later, everyone at Master Jangon’s yard was happy. The two junior apprentices had found that Art, whom they knew only as Gim, now their senior, was very good at teaching, and had proved to be very helpful. In some respects he was better than their Master. The Master and his wife were happy as they could see Art and their daughter Ellary spending more time together. In reality they were still only spending as much as they did before, it was just that they were more open about it.

Ellary was probably happiest of all as she had been slowly chipping away at Art’s reserve. When he said he wanted to take small steps he had meant it. From holding hands they edged to a peck on the cheek and the occasional hug. Nothing more. Most of her good feelings came from what she sensed - they were getting closer.

Art had different reasons for his sense of wellbeing. For three whole months he had led a normal life without hearing anything from his father. It wasn’t that he disliked him, it was because he always brought rapid and mostly unwelcome change into his life. To top it off, he had been told that his Journeyman’s testing had been scheduled, and would take place in a fortnight, a week after his birthday.

These were good things, but what was most significant was that he was regaining his humanity thanks to Ellary. It had been a very disturbing realization that he had been eager to kill fifty thousand or so people he didn’t know in revenge for his late girlfriend’s death. It had probably been pure luck that he had only ended up killing three, one unintentionally. She no doubt thought that the source of his anguish was his girlfriend’s death. That was certainly a part of it. His big issue, the one that he was reluctant to talk about, was his vengeful blood lust. It was still working its way through his system.

He knew Ellary was aching to move faster, but as long as she was happy, and she was, and he was healing, and he was, he knew things would work out.

Of all these contented people, only Art knew how frail this time of happiness was. Something was bound to go wrong, and inevitably it did. It was supper time, and everyone had done justice to a tasty spread which included one of Jangon’s favourites, suet pudding with dripping. Jangon had leaned back sated in his wide chair, and had caressed his gut lovingly. But not for long. He started shaking and tried to speak, but couldn’t. He turned grey and pointed towards his chest.

Art moved. There was never any question that he should act. Healing was the thing he did best, and which gave him the most satisfaction. The fact that Ellary wouldn’t speak to him again if he didn’t never crossed his mind.

“I have some experience and I can help. I know what to do.” He took charge and radiated calm. Mistress Salia was having hysterics, and Crick and Trorn, the two juniors, were ashen and unable to move. “I need space.” Turning to the juniors, he told them quietly and authoritatively, “Move the table against the wall.” While they were doing that, he laid Master Jangon carefully on the floor while telling Ellary, “It’ll be fine. Look after your mother.” Once the table had been moved, he told the boys, “Best if you leave. It’s less distracting.” They were more than happy to leave.

Ellary knew Art was now full into his healer mode. She was full of conflicting emotions. She wasn’t at all worried about her father. She was concerned that Art, once he had shown he could heal, would have to go, as her mother, motionless and mute in her arms, would know Art, or Gim, as she knew him, had the Will.

Twenty minutes later, Master Jangon was comfortably propped up in his favourite chair and feeling wonderful. Art told him, “You were lucky that I was here. If I hadn’t been, you would be on a slab in the morgue. It was a miracle this didn’t happen sooner. I had to dig an unmentionable amount of muck from your arteries, but I’ve done it before and I’ve seen worse, so you’ll be fine. In fact you should feel better than you have for years.”

Art gestured for Ellary to take his hand, something she did almost reluctantly. “I should introduce myself.” He let his face flow into Art’s. “My father calls me Art. I have been very happy here. Being Gim has let me lead as close to a normal life as I can. I am afraid I have just demolished your dream of me marrying Ellary and running this yard. We...” Here he paused and raised their held hands slightly to make sure they knew he included Ellary. “...couldn’t work out a way of telling you I could never run the yard without it raising too many questions about me. There are just too many other things I’ll have to do, so I’ll never settle down as a wheelwright.”

Ellary noted what he hadn’t said. “I have known all about Art for months, ever since he saved my life when I was gored by that bull. He has had a very difficult time lately. He has desperately wanted to avoid his notoriety, and simply be as normal as possible. He doesn’t use the Will at all here. He has said that it is a matter of pride that he can do the work he does and produce high quality goods without using his Will.” Art squeezed her hand.

“Please forget about this evening. If, or when, it gets out that I am also the infamous Art, healer and slayer of High Priestess Aravia, I will have to leave. My father will insist. Have you worked out who he is yet?”

Master Jangon was the first to react. Patients often have less stress and worry than their spouses and Mistress Salia was still partially in shock. Art felt he would have to see her to bed soon. “I would like you to stay as long as you want. My daughter looks quite keen for you to stay too, but what do you plan to tell Trorn and Crick?”

“In a few minutes a carriage will take you to the Temple. You will come back cured tomorrow afternoon. I will have worked out something plausible by then. I’m sorry I can’t take you the quick way, as I need to get the boys to carry you to the carriage to make it look good. See if you can groan a couple of times for them.” This got the first real smile from Jangon since supper.

A week later, it was Art’s birthday. It was now a year to the day that Art had started working for Master Jangon. He couldn’t decide which of the two events meant the most. He was worried that his father, with his sense of theater, would choose his birthday to summon him, and upset the preparations that Mistress Salia was making to mark his year with them. He had asked Ellary to tell her parents that he didn’t want anything special to mark either milestone. In reality some events have an inevitably of their own and acquire an unstoppable momentum. The day before, Jangon had visited Art at the Temple, and had been declared completely recovered. This was worthy of a celebration in itself and Jangon had invited some friends and their wives to eat supper with them.

The day went normally, almost worryingly so. There was an aura Art felt, as if something trivial would go...if not wrong, then not altogether right. He heard nothing from his father, and supper was ordinary except for the guests. After the main course had been cleared away, Jangon got up and fetched a bottle of wine from the sideboard. “We have a few things to celebrate. Gim has now been with us for a year and today is his birthday. Yesterday I went to the Temple, and I have been pronounced completely recovered from my recent ailment. Let’s all have a glass.”

Art never drank and had by now worked out a reliable way of appearing to drink. He simply wished his glass was grape juice instead of wine. It was the nearest and easiest thing to do. He drank happily with the rest, reminding himself not to let anyone taste it by mistake. Mistress Salia then got up and produced a cake for dessert. On the cake was the name, “ART”.

Trorn was the one who asked the pregnant question, “Who is Art?”

Mistress Salia seemed stunned by her mistake and Jangon was frozen in indecision, so Art leaned forward. “I expect it is healer Art from the Temple. Master, isn’t he the healer you saw?”

Jangon managed to blurt out, “Oh, yes, that’s him. He removed an awful lot of disgusting stuff from my innards and now I feel years younger. I was so grateful I asked him to drop in so my family could thank him. I don’t expect he will, as he seems to be so busy all the time. It was simply a gesture.” Ellary was surprised that her father had caught on at all, let alone so fast.

“I put his name on the cake just in case.” Salia managed to say her bit, and they all gave an inward sigh and relaxed.

Both Trorn and Crick were now very interested. “What’s he like?”

Ellary took her cue. “He saved my life abod my lifut six months ago, and he is young, just like us. He is one of the kindest, most wonderful people I have ever met, and when he wants to be he can seem the most handsome Ouch! men alive. Gim told me that the people at the Temple really respect him as he is very good at his job.” Since Dannoy had left, Art had been moved around the table to ensure he sat next to Ellary. This was the only time she regretted it.

This little bit of fun galvanized Crick. “Oh please, tell me some more!”

“Well he’s very two-faced.” After pausing for Art to get the message, she went on, “Actually it’s at least four. Dad, perhaps you can tell us more?”

“He was very efficient and quick, just the sort of boy I’d like as a son-in-law.”

Mother couldn’t be left out of the friendly ribbing, and said, “You wouldn’t believe he’s the same bloodthirsty person who materialized inside Aravia, ripped her apart, and ended the war.”

Art stood up, saying, “Please keep my slice for later. It was a wonderful meal and I need a bit of a walk.”

He went outside and flitted straight to the Temple. There he put on some better clothes, flitted back to his room, sneaked back out and knocked on the front door, having adjusted his face to the handsome one.
“One pulled leg deserves another.”
was his thought, as he waited for the door to be opened.

Mistress Salia got the door. She started to stutter, but before she got going, Art asked, “Is this Wheelwright Jangon’s? My name is Art.”

She twittered, “Oh please do come in.” She had never seen this face before, and was at quite a loss. She led him through the reception area to the dining room. “We are all in here.” She gestured for him to go first.

“Master Jangon, ladies, I am Art, a healer at the Temple and I am happy to visit my patient.”

There was dead quiet in the room. No one had seen this face on Art, except Ellary. She said, “Thank you so much for looking after my father. Come and sit beside me. The chair is free.” She managed the naughtiest smile she could while getting up, taking his hand, and leading him over. “Would you like a slice of cake?” Her voice became throaty. “I baked it just for you.”

Master Jangon at last summoned up enough of his wits to make a round of polite introductions, finishing with a man who turned out to be his brother-in-law.

“What exactly was wrong with Jangon?” His brother-in-law asked.

This was an opening that Art hadn’t looked for. “He abused his body terribly over the years; he drank, he ate all the wrong kinds of foods, and never did any proper exercise. He was a complete and total mess inside. You must know that without the quick ministrations of Gim, one of our volunteers who was on the spot, he would never even have made it to the Temple.”

A large slice of cake had appeared in front of him. “This looks wonderful, but can be very bad for you if you overindulge, or if you don’t run a few miles before breakfast every day.” Jangon looked down at his slice, half eaten and hoped someone else would say something.

His wife attempted a rescue. “It’s so kind of you to come here. You must have so little time for yourself.”

Art stretched. “It’s a happy coincidence, I was actually on my way to pick up my girlfriend, she lives very nearves very here, and I was early. We are going to have a night on the town.” He gave a slight leer. “A very long night if all goes well.” He took a big bite of cake while he had the chance and watched as Ellary turned pink.

Another guest, a youngish woman whom he remembered to be the wife of the man who supplied most of the lumber for the yard, nervously asked, “Did you really kill that priestess?” Her eyes were glued to him.

Art drawled, “Yes. I’m afraid it was rather messy though.”

She drew in her breath sharply, “How many did you kill?”

“Only three, and one was an accident.”

Crick, the youngest, had held it in as long as he could. “Please can you do some magic?”

“Wait a bit while I finish my cake.”

While he ate, Ellary said, “Art, you saved my life and now my father’s.” She put her hand on his arm. “I would do anything for you.” It was Art’s turn to go pink. “I mean anything.” Everyone at the table was watching, fascinated by this declaration. She leaned over to kiss him, but at the last moment changed her aim and landed a big one on his cheek.

“Thank you all again.” Art stood up. “But my beauty awaits. Here is the magic.” He vanished. Five minutes later, Gim came back in. He saw them looking at him oddly, and asked, “Did I miss anything?”

36

Once all the guests had left and the juniors had gone to their rooms, Master Jangon remarked, “That went very well, didn’t it? They all will be talking about it for weeks, and my sister will have to invite us over soon.” He was in a good mood.

“I’m sorry about putting ‘ART’ on the cake, Gim, but it worked out fine in the end. I thought it was great fun.” She looked at her daughter. “I think you had the most fun of all.”

Ellery turned to Art. “I think we both got in the best shots we could.”

“Yes you did. You took turns turning bright red.” Her mother grinned at them.

Ellary excused herself, and asked Art, “Can you help my parents for a bit? I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

Quite a while later, when they had almost finished cleaning up, Ellary made her entrance. She was wearing the red dress. Her mother was the quickest to ask, “Where did you get that? It’s very ...”

Art answered, “I gave it to her as a birthday present. I made it myself. She couldn’t show it to you before.”

“You promised me a night on the town, remember! You said something about it being a very long one. I’m ready. I loved your line, ‘My beauty awaits!’ so here I am.” She twirled around suggestively.

Art had no comeback, and surrendered, “I suppose I did, in a roundabout way. Alright, we’ll give the dress another outing.”

“You’ve worn it out before?” Her mother was concerned. The dress left hardly anything to the imagination.

“I wore it when he took me to meet his father.”

“It wasn’t what you think.” It was a chorus. They looked at each other for a moment and then fell about laughing.

“If you are going, go and have fun. Art, enjoy the rest of your birthday.”

* * *

Leaving the Temple where Art kept his better clothes, he ushered Ellary into a carriage. “I’m sure you have an idea as to where you want to go, so just tell the driver.” Although he had lived in the Capital for a year, he had no notion as to what the young did for evening entertainment, let alone where. He had been too busy working as a healer at the Temple in most of his spare time. Ellary whispered to the driver.

The carriage stopped at a rather anonymous door. “This is a place where people come to listen to music. My friends tell me that this place has the best.” Inside it was noisy and crowded, but the atmosphere was one of anticipation.

They were led to a table and immediately charged a stiff fee. “That is for two hours. We will let you know when your time is up.” Seconds later, a girl came to ask them if they wanted a drink, and seemed disappointed when they ordered fruit juice.

“Have you ever been here before?” Art asked.

“No, but I have heard a lot about the place, and always wanted to come.”

The lights dimmed, and a quartet of musicians started playing a lively tune. Art was entranced. He was so much of a hick that he had never heard anything like it before. It wasn’t that he had never listened to music; it was that it had always been crude and slapdash. He closed his eyes, sat back and enjoyed the moment. After half an hour or so, they were replaced by a singer supported by a different group. He was far better that anyone he had heard before. When the singer finished there was a break.

“He was very good, wasn’t he?”

Art gave an honest reply. “He’s the best I’ve ever heard.”

“But you’ve never heard a professional before, have you?”

“True, so this is a wonderful experience for me.” He took her hand. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

“Thanks for paying their prices. I never knew how expensive it was.”

“Don’t worry about the price. I get paid more for one day’s healing than I make in a month as your father’s apprentice. That’s not even the point. The only thing I spent more than pennies on in the past year was the material for the dress you’re wearing.” He took the opportunity to appraise her figure through it. “Money well spent.”

Ellary felt herself blushing, and changed the subject back to money. “Coins don’t mean that much if you have the Will, do they?”

“I guess you’re right. I haven’t thought about money at all really. As long as I have enough for what I want, I’m fine.” Moments later he added, somewhat disdainfully, “I still know the value of the stuff. Fetching and carrying for you at the market every week has some benefits.”

He got a kick under the table, but squeezed her hand to tell her she was forgiven. A new group appeared and they started playing a different style of music. “This is what I have been waiting for. This music is for dancing. I don’t suppose you have done much dancing either?”

“No, this is an evening for new experiences.” She took his hand, but he let go. “Let me watch for a bit first. I have a feeling a lot of eyes wlot of eill be on us, and I don’t want to look like a total idiot.”

He watched intently for a few minutes and then led her out. As predicted, Ellary caught a lot of eyes. There wasn’t another girl on the floor that came close. They danced happily, and in Ellary’s case provocatively, for a while until the inevitable happened. A man who had been drinking something other than juice approached the couple. He was a large man who was blunt, “It’s my turn to dance with the lady.”

Art looked him square in the eye. “It’ll never be your turn.” When the man made a move to grab Ellary’s arm he inexplicably fell down. Art went to help him up and whispered, I can make you fall down as much as I like, I just want a quiet evening with my girlfriend.”

The moment he was back upright he made another move towards Ellary. This time when he slipped he landed on his jaw. Art made no move to help him, but led Ellary back to their table. Two other men, presumably friends, came to help. They virtually carried him back to his seat. One said to the other, “Big Jon should have guessed; any guy prepared to bring a looker dressed like she is would be bound to be able to handle someone like him.”

Art led Ellary back out. “I am having a very nice time, and no one is going to mess up my evening.” They danced for a while before Art noticed the same man, having recovered, moving in their direction. “He’s coming back, but don’t worry, he won’t get near you.” He crumpled and was ignored. “I hope more of them don’t try. I can only be subtle for so long.”

The man was retrieved again, and this time one said, “He must have had more than we thought.”

The red dress proved to be too much of a temptation, and minutes later a group of four men approached them, with the same thing in mind. Art appeared to ignore them as well. As much as they tried to get close, they found themselves walking in different directions, and getting in the way of other couples. It became a comedy for the spectators to watch, but it was no fun for the dancers. The strategy had worked but was inconveniencing others.

When the number ended, Art stood on a chair, and spoke to the crowded room. He had experience in speaking to large numbers and in enhancing his voice so that everyone could hear. “My name is Art. Some of you may have heard of me. I work as a healer at the main Temple. It’s my birthday and I just want a quiet evening with my girlfriend. None of you has any chance with her. No twenty of you have a chance against me. Please leave us alone to enjoy the evening.” He got down amidst a sudden rush of conversation.

It was a few minutes before the band struck up again, and this time no one bothered them. It was a slow number, and Ellary pulled him close and was able to whisper, “No one has a chance with me then? That sounded proprietary.” She snuggled even closer. “It was so nice to hear.”

Shortly after the dance band finished their set, they left. “Let’s take a carriage.” This was an unusual suggestion from Art, as she had expected him to flit them instantly either to the Temple or home.

Once inside, Art took her hand. “I came to terms with my loss of Amia some time ago. The thing that has stopped me moving forward with you was something else. I was so bent on getting revenge that I was prepared to kill the whole invading army, using a disease. It was my idea and it might have ended the war if circumstances hadn’t ended it earlier.” He looked up, took a deep breath and paused before going on. “That wasn’t me. I am a healer not a killer. I believe that heaieve thaling is the best way to use the Will. After it had all sunk in, I was disgusted with myself. Most of the invaders were forced to come, and only wanted to go back and be with their wives and children. I had sleepless nights even though it all worked out for the best in the end.”

“You could have told me about this earlier, I’m your friend and ... well....that’s...”

“Tonight I had the best time I’ve had in ages. I had fun at dinner and I had fun with you just now. In fact, I’ve had a wonderful birthday. Most importantly, I know I couldn’t have had such a good time if I hadn’t come to terms with myself.” He put his arm around her and pulled her close. “As to why I didn’t tell you earlier, you would have comforted me and held me and this would have been the result.”

He kissed her.

Minutes later when the carriage stopped, it was outside neither the Temple nor the yard. He helped Ellary out of the carriage, holding onto her waist after she was safely out. Raising a mischievous grin, he told her, “I’ve still got an hour and a bit left of my birthday.”

* * *

A week later he breezed through his Journeyman’s tests. He could now, if he chose, go out into the world as a Journeyman wheelwright. That was not his choice. He had already told his Master he would stay as long as he could, the trouble was he didn’t know how long this father would let him. Every day he expected a summons, but realistically he thought it would come while he was at the Temple, as Art, and not at the yard, as Gim.

A fortnight later he was proved wrong, and the messenger was an unexpected one. The only saving grace was that Ellary was out shopping at the time with her mother, as it was Vanni. Art didn’t want them to meet as he knew that Vanni liked him. It was Jangon who met her when she came into the shop.

“I am looking for apprentice Gim.”

Jangon did not terribly approve of girls asking after Gim. Any parent would have reservations i
f a girl came looking for their daughter’s boyfriend. He was a little suspicious. “No one here of that name.”

“I know he’s here.”

“Perhaps you mean my Journeyman, Gim Wheelwright?” Crafts are always sticklers for rank, and Jangon meant to make the point.

“That’ll be him.”

“Who should I say is here?”

“Tell him it’s Vanni. He’ll know why I’m here.”

He told Vanni to wait while he fetched Gim.

“There is a little slip of a thing looking for you, says her name is Vanni.” He saw Art’s face fall. “Not a bit on the side I trust.” Jangon couldn’t resist the jab as he knew full well that Art’s relationship with his daughter had progressed.

“I would almost prefer that it was.” Art’s voice was despondent. “She’ll be from my father. I had better go and hear the bad news.”