The Wheelwright's Apprentice (25 page)

40

My love, I joined the mercenaries, as I told you I would. They seem very well organized and we have a couple of days before we set out. I don’t know where we are going yet, but I expect I’ll find out soon.

I have a problem that’ll make you laugh even though it’s not funny from my point of view. By way of an introduction, I sparred with one of the band, a really huge man called Big Davi. I chose to lose, as I thought that would help me make friends. This Davi isn’t interested in girls and set his sights on me after I lost to him. I think if I had beaten him, he would have ignored me. He seems to want targets that are weaker than him. Big mistake, wasn’t it? He is very persistent and as I don’t want them all knowing I have the Will, I’ll have to devise some workable way of getting him off my back.

That’s it for now. Remember the last thing I think of each night before I sleep is you, enfolded in my arms.

Ellary folded up the letter and put it in the drawer she kept solely for his magically delivered letters. She felt so lucky to have a boyfriend who could communicate with her in this irregular fashion. Of course, it would be a lot nicer if he were here with her. She knew he would come when he had the chance, and she was prepared to wait. He was, after all, a pretty special boy. She stretched out in her bed and thought of him.

* * *

Art was concentrating on what to do about Big Davi. He not only hadn’t given up, but was prepared to soldier on past numerous rebuffs. Art knew he would have to use his Will, but how without making a spectacle for everyone to see? He guessed that he would just have to wait and see what Davi tried, and respond as best he could. He didn’t even know whether Davi was in the same dormitory as him. He hoped not, as that would be difficult.

Discipline, even in this mercenary group, was enforced by a curfew. Although they were ‘home’ and enjoying some well-earned relaxation, the Captain didn’t want them getting so drunk that they started fighting amongst themselves. Art was determined to keep his nose clean and went to his bunk a little before he needed to. Penning and sending a quick message to Ellary had been his priority when he had calmed down after his supper time confrontation. He hoped to spend at least a few minutes meeting his new colleagues before they all turned in.

Nobody else came in as the curfew approached. Art started getting nervous. Perhaps there was some sort of ‘welcome’ planned for him, not to mention that Big Davi might be having ideas too. He felt he wouldn’t mind going through an initiation, as that would help him become part of the group - as long as it didn’t involve Big Davi!

All at once, a crowd streamed through the door, seemingly moments before the curfew sounded. Art looked carefully to see if Big Davi was one of them. Fate was kind; he wasn’t. That didn’t mean Art was ignored. Most of them came over to him and introduced themselves. After that it was all questions about what he was going to do about Big Davi. The problem was that he didn’t really know. The response, “I’m still working on it,” was the best he could come up with. His hopeful appeal for “Any suggestions?” didn’t produce any.

Getting ready for bed, Art turned to the man in the next bunk. His name was Graff. He was thirtyish and had been a mercenary for three years. “What can you tell me about Davi” Is he likely to try sneaking in here later?”

“No, that’s not his style. Tomorrow is our last day before we set out on the road. We always have a bit of a celebration, and the drink flows freely. We’re all going to be watching him trying to get you a bit tipsy before he tries again.”

“I have to stay sober?”

“It’s a lot harder than that. He will probably wrestle you to the ground and hold you down while he pours spirits into you.”

“It’s simple then; I mustn’t let him catch me.”

“Not so simple.” This from the man in the bunk beyond, Cayan by name. “He’ll have others helping him, if only to make sure his attention stays well away from them.”

“Sounds like the whole world is against me. I suppose I’m left with two options, make him not want me, or beat the crap out of him.”

That got a small round of gurgling laughter from those close enough to hear. “First’s a non starter. Once Davi makes up his mind he never changes it.” Cayan was giggling. “Second’s no good either!” This set off a few more laughs. With that discouraging prognosis, Art decided to sleep. With little success.

The next day was a busy day for the whole company. They were packing for the road. Everyone was dragooned into fetching and carrying all the stores needed for the journey. There were weapons, food and water barrels, There was food and spare tack for the horses, tools and equipment for the blacksmith, and Captain Hanna had even procured some tools for Art to use if they needeif they d him to play wheelwright.

There wasn’t any time to relax, and there was no time for Davi to play games. By the time all the backbreaking work was over, it was late in the afternoon and Art, not to mention everyone else, was hot, sweaty and tired. This was when Art found out that a communal shower had been set up outside so that the whole troop could wash off. It wasn’t private.

While he was contemplating what to do, and worrying about what Big Davi might try, there was a tap on his shoulder. It was Davi. “You can shower off in peace. In fact, take your time about it. I came to admire the goods, not buy them.”

Art turned back and saw the almost inevitable collection of onlookers waiting for his reply. “Davi, do yourself a favour and go away.” Art was aware that his body had matured and grown, and that the last months had equipped him with more than a fair set of muscles. He was a fine physical specimen. Ellary had certainly appreciated the way his body had altered. “You are better off not seeing what you can never have.” Ignoring the whispers and indrawn breaths, he strode confidently towards the showers, stripping his clothes off as he went. Art enjoyed his shower. The cold water invigorated him and he shut Davi out of his mind.

Dressing himself in clean clothes, Art heard Davi’s voice again. “My turn now.” He paid him no attention, and went to rest up and wrack his brain.

Art let his feet take him where they would, and he soon found himself sitting on a tree stump by a pond that seemed to be stagnant. It mirrored his position, stagnating or worse, unless he pulled himself together and found a useful strategy. He juggled his ideas and went to face the inevitable.

On his way back he came across Graff, who was walking with another man. “I got seven to one on you surviving the night, I thought since you were in the next bunk it may have been an omen.”

The other put in, “You were done. I heard they were offering tens!”

This was something new, running a book on his virtue. “Graff, your money’s safe. He’s got no chance at all.” He was determined to keep up a good front and make them wonder.

“Cocky bastard, isn’t he?” Graff’s companion observed as Art moved along.

“Did you see him in the shower? With a body like that he has every right. What’s more, he reeks of confidence. Even if I lose, seven to one is good odds.”

His companion spat. “Hasn’t a chance, but it might be a show worth watching.”

“Certainly will be interesting.”

Art continued his wanderings, and soon smelled the distinctive odor of a brew house. It was a reminder that Davi would have to get him drunk. Perhaps he could turn that stratagem to his advantage. He started thinking earnestly.

* * *

The Captain climbed onto a chair in one corner of the inn’s common room. As the only room capable of accommodating the entire troop at one time, they comandeered it twice a year. Today was one, and the other was the day after they arrived home. He waited for the chatter to subside, and then, in his voice of command, boomed out, “You all want to know where we’re going, not just tomorrow, but later on. Most of you already know that the Earl of the Western Riding of Toranavia pays us a very useful retainer to have first refusal over our services. Right now, I don’t know of any unpleasantny unpleaess that would make him exercise that option. First stop is his castle. If he doesn’t want us, we’ll have two choices. Tensions are high on the border between Jeerea and Waygand. We will offer to serve Waygand. There’s also supposed to be a breakdown of authority in the Eastern Riding of Toranavia. Either way, the season looks to be profitable.” He raised both his arms in the air theatrically. “Enjoy the evening and remember not to get too drunk. Tomorrow we leave early.”

There was a round of applause. Art already knew exactly where Davi was, leaning on the bar. He was in another corner, watching the whole room. He turned to the men near him. “You had better leave some space for Davi. I expect he’ll be over soon.”

Davi waited a few minutes for the room to settle, and for the attention to come his way. When he judged the moment, he hefted two huge pitchers of ale, probably the strongest the house offered, and made a slow walk towards Art. Davi liked to be the center of attention. “So kind of you to keep a space for me.” He placed one pitcher down in front of Art, and the other by his own elbow. “Shall we start with a friendly drink?”

“Let’s get this idiocy over with then.” Art hefted his pitcher, and took a long draught. Wiping his lips, he looked at Davi, “Your turn.” Minutes later, both pitchers were empty, “It’s my round now.” Art took the empty pitchers to the bar, and asked the barman, “Can you refill these with whatever Davi had you put in them?” This time Art took the slow and ostentatious walk, plonking one down before Davi. “It’s just a friendly drink.”

“I thought you would run away.” Davi took a big swig, Art copying. “Or try something. You’re not making this fun.”

“It isn’t fun, but it’s a way to make friends. Friends who will guard your back in a fight. I reckon you are pretty handy when things get a bit interesting.” They both had another swig.

“Take my offer and your back is safe.”

“If I were to consider your offer, your back would be my target. You’d be safer with me than almost every other man here. Your offer is an invitation for a stab in the back. Think about it. Drink up now. I figure it’ll take another couple of quarts of this swill to get you insensate.”

“You’re full of confidence. You’ll never manage to drink me under the table.”

“That’s something you do to yourself.” Art gulped down another huge tot. “Isn’t it about time for more?” He waved his almost empty pitcher at Davi.

Two more pitchers thumped down on the table. They both looked up to see Captain Hanna. “Here you go, I wanted to save you the trouble. Soon, walking to the bar and back will get difficult.”

“Only for you!” It was an impromptu duet and their fingers almost met, pointing at each other across the table. They both found a moment of mirth.

“See, drinking together is a good way of making friends.” Art waved his pitcher. Davi didn’t reply.

“Looks like the betting is still going on.” The Captain turned to Davi, “Nothing personal, but the odds were too good. I bet on the novice.”

Half an hour and two more pitchers later, Art stood up, “Excuse me, but I don’t want to piss my pants.” He walked steadily towards the door to the outside jakes. Davi suddenly dropped to the fact that his prey could escape, and belatedly hurried after, just managing to see him go into the go intoouthouse across the courtyard. He followed.

“A man is at his most vulnerable when he’s taking a leak.”

“You’ll have to pee as well.” Davi unshipped, and stood beside Art to do what was necessary. “It’s too early. We have a little bit of time yet.” They left together.

Fifteen minutes later, Art got up again. “My bladder’s smaller than yours, I’ll be back.” He scooted out, not giving Davi time to think. Davi followed, of course. However, when he made it outside, Art was already out of sight. Approaching the outhouse door, Davi found another man in the doorway, leaving. Davi was poleaxed. This was the handsomest man he had ever seen. Features like a god, skin smooth as silk and everything perfectly proportioned.

“Er...excuse me, please.” The man was polite and his voice struck a chord. Davi couldn’t move. “You’re in the way.”

Davi moved quickly to one side, muttering an apology. He waited while the man left and watched him fade into the twilight. Pulling himself together, he went in. Art wasn’t there. He checked the two stalls and they were empty. He ran back inside, and there was Art, calmly waiting at the table. He shook his head in puzzlement, and calmed himself by draining his pitcher.

By now, both of them had drunk more than enough to put anyone else in the room in a stupor. They could understand Davi still being upright as he was so big. Art was another thing. How could he hold his booze so well? The room was buzzing.

“Anything wrong?” Art asked Davi. “You look a bit out of sorts.” He scared the dregs from his pitcher and grinned. “I guess now’s the time to finish this if you’re getting happy. I don’t want to embarrass you in front of all of these fine people, so shall we go outside?”

“These fine people, as you call them, are mostly waiting to see me overpower you.”

“Have it your way then.” Art got up and walked towards the exit. Near the bar, in an open space, he paused, turned and asked, “You coming or not?” Davi came slowly towards Art who was casually leaning on the bar. This was the moment. Art had to coordinate everything perfectly. He was going to punch Davi on the jaw. Somehow. Even with his anatomical knowledge, he doubted that he could knock him out with a punch alone. The idea was to simultaneously restrict
the blood flow to Davi’s brain, the trick he had used to defeat the enemy Will adepts. The timing had to be right. It would be bad if Davi crumpled before his fist hit, and worse if Davi had a chance to pummel him. Davi’s fists were huge.