The Wheelwright's Apprentice

4

4

They rode through an inspiring entranceway a quarter of an hour later. The inside was a complete contrast to the outside. There were trees, the interior walls were colorfully painted and there were flowers. You could see that a great deal of effort had been made to make things as cheerful as possible. The Sergeant noticed Wilson’s amazement, and said, “Looks a whole lot better from this angle, doesn’t it? The outside is to discourage raiders and anyone else. The inside is to make everyone in here feel as happy as they can. We have everything here to withstand a pretty long siege, not that it would ever happen!” He laughed his gruff laugh again, and then said, “Here are the stables. Don’t worry. You won’t have to unsaddle your horse, brush him down and feed him here. There are grooms to do that, and anyway I wouldn’t trust you to do it right, seeing as how this was your first day on a horse!”

Wilson stopped his horse beside the Sergeant’s, and slid off, holding the reins, copying him. Two grooms came to take the horses from them, and the Sergeant told Wilson, “Follow me. We are going to check in with the duty officer.”

Wilson followed the Sergeant who moved briskly around corners and up stairs until they came to an office. There was a Constable behind the desk, who stood up and said, “Well good evening. If it isn’t Sergeant Cathcart. What brings you here?” Wilson abruptly realized that he had better start remembering and learning names. He had known all the dead people from Dane’s Hamlet since he could remember, but with all the people he was now seeing, he saw the value in learning names. He filed away “Cathcart” and vowed to himself to do better in this respect.

“We need to speak to the duty officer. Please let him know that I am here.”

The Constable got up and knocked on a door behind him, then poked his head through and sat back down. “He’ll be a few minutes, but tell me, who is this young man with you?” Cathcart shrugged and replied, “He’s a witness to a m******e in Dane’s Hamlet. That was the closest settlement to South Pass.”

The Constable blanched. “Raiders, I take it, and through South Pass not Middle Pass. The Argles are getting bold!” This was the first time Wilson had heard a name put to those rough and fearsome men who had killed all but a few young and pretty girls from his village.

The Constable addressed Wilson and asked, “Were you the only survivor?”

Wilson nodded his head slowly and replied, “I think they took a few young girls with them, but otherwise yes.”

The Constable gave Cathcart a knowing nod. Moments later, the door opened and a voice said, “Send in Sergeant Cathcart.”

The officer of the day, a Lieutenant Bain, was swift and to the point. He simply held out his hand. Cathcart gave him the letter from the Constable in Joman’s Crossing and Bain read it in silence to the end. He leant back in his chair and gave a sigh, “I expect the Count will want to retaliate.”

Cathcart nodded and said, “Surprised if he didn’t.”

The Lieutenant turned to Wilson, who was lurking behind Cathcart, and said, “The Count will want to talk to you at breakfast tomorrow. If you can get up in time, it’s at 7. Meanwhile, I will get you someone to show you where to eat, bathe and sleep.” He gave a shout, “Gorgy!”

Moments later, a boy about the same age as Wilson came in the door and said, “Yes sir.”

The Lieutenant told him, “Take this boy, Wilson, to the refectory, then the bathhouse and then show him the guest bedroom at the end of the north corridor.” They exchanged meaningful glances. “Stay with him. I don’t want him to get lost.”

Gorgy pulled Wilson’s sleeve, and said, “Let’s go, you must be hungry!”

An hour and a half later, Wilson was shown to his room. It was a small room, but it was much more luxurious than anything else he had ever slept in. There was a bed! A table and a chair! A chest for his clothes and a pitcher of water, and wonder of wonders, a chamber pot. Its use was something Gorgy had to explain to him.

“Here I am at last, in a comfortable bed, well fed and maybe tomorrow I will meet my real father.” With those happy thoughts Wilson fell fast asleep.

After a long and untroubled night, Wilson woke up. He took a few moments to luxuriate in the comfort of a bed with clean linen, no bugs and a smooth mattress. He didn’t really want to move at all until he remembered Lieutenant Bain’s comment that he would see the Count at breakfast - if he could make it by 7! Regretfully, he eased his eyes open slowly. It was pitch black. Wilson knew that there was a window in the room, and quite a large one at that. He had even looked out of it and seen a couple of trees. There should be some light even if it was just starlight, but there wasn’t. Wilson eased himself upright. That was a huge mistake. Bolts of pain shot through his thighs and a dull ache pervaded his rear end. He collapsed back, an action not wholly without pain either. He thought, “It wore off, and I must have continued to abuse my body. The Sergeant must have been laughing his head off.” He slowly moved his legs, and the excruciating pain told him that he had better do something about the pain or he would be lying in bed all day in the dark, unable to move. He brought his Will to bear, thought about the pain and how he needed it to be gone. Mercifully, and wonderfully, it went. He cracked a smile and thought, “Progress! Now I can tackle the darkness!”

He now thought, “I know I went to sleep immediately. Perhaps there is some sort of curtain that a servant drew after I collapsed.” Wilson put his feet to the floor and slowly edged his way around the room looking for the window. There wasn’t one. There wasn’t a door either, nor the chest, table or chair. The room seemed a lot smaller too. At least the bed was still there, so Wilson sat back down on it and took a couple of deep breaths. Nothing was going to happen unless he made it happen. “This has to be some sort of a test. Can I make it to breakfast on time? Or do I just starve to death in the dark?” He lay down again and started thinking. “First things first. How about some light?” So Wilson opened his eyes and thought, “Give me some light!” He tried to recall when he was much younger and afraid of the dark, and a candle appeared, sitting happily on top of a table that moments ago had not been there. Wilson was much encouraged and now turned his thoughts to getting out of the room and down to breakfast. “There has to be a way out.” He thought. “It has to be something easy. After all, they don’t want a hole blasted in the wall, although it might be very easy for them to fix it.” After a while he gathered his thoughts and concentrated them on, “I wish I knew how to get out of this!” And then suddenly he did! He went over to a patch on the wall and touched three bricks in order. Instantly, he was back in the room he had gone to sleep in, just a few hours earlier.

Wilson opened the door and found a page outside. He asked the page, “Can I please get some clean clothes, and then can you escort me to breakfast?” He guessed that was why the page was outside the door in the first place.

Minutes later, he was dressed in clothes better than any he had worn before, and looked almost as if he belonged. In reality, it was just the feel of clothes that were actually clean that gave him the confidence to stand upright while he walked along. He followed the page to a room with a single long table set for many. There was already a scattering of people, all men, eating. He was taken to a chair next to one end and told to wait. Sitting there waiting, he had the time to look at the other people there and guess what they did. Most were probably soldiers. Officers, he corrected himself, but one or two seemed to be a lot softer, so he tagged them as clerks or administrators. There was no one seated near him so he didn’t get involved in any conversations, nor could he pick any up. He waited. After what seemed like quite a long time, he heard a noise as many men came into the room together and sat down all around him. There was one man to whom they all deferred who came to the end of the table next to where Wilson was waiting. Wilson involuntarily stood up such was the charisma and authority that emanated from him.

“You must be Wilson. Glad to see you made breakfast in time!” He observed as he sat down. Now servers came and asked the new arrivals, starting with the man in authority whom he presumed was the Count, what they wanted. The Count appeared to be a much younger man than Wilson had imagined. He was tall, looked very strongly built and had a blond beard which did little to disguise the fact that he looked no older than thirty. The Count turned quietly to Wilson, and said, “Just tell them what you want, and they will bring it.”

There was a short busy period as the servers buzzed around bringing food and drinks. When everyone was served, the Count raised his voice to those nearby and motioned Wilson to stand, “This boy is the only survivor of a raid on Dane’s Hamlet. I have already read a detailed report on the incident, and some of you have seen it as well. This is a chance to ask him any questions.” Wilson hardly had a chance to eat anything as he was bombarded with questions of all sorts relating to the incident. Eventually Wilson resorted to making them wait while he chewed his food before answering. If he had had the time to look, he would have seen the Count suppressing a smile. After the questions and food petered out, the Count stood up and said, “This boy will be my new apprentice.” Turning to Wilson, he said, “Come with me.”

Wilson followed the Count, and shortly thereafter he found himself sitting alone with only a desk between him and the Count. “I expect you have a lot of questions!” Wilson nodded mutely as the Count continued, “Do you have any idea what being my apprentice means?”

Wilson stood and said, “I was apprenticed to a wheelwright back in my village. He worked me hard and I tried to learn what he knew. I suppose this will be something like that.”

The Count tilted his head back and smiled. “Just like that only worse. Yours will be an apprenticeship that will last a lot longer than if you were to be a wheelwright. I will work you harder than you can possibly imagine and I will most likely end up killing you!”

At this statement, Wilson let out a little gasp and asked, “You will work me to death?”

“No. I will simply kill you if you do not turn out the way I want.” The Count smiled what Wilson thought was a slightly evil smile, and then continued, “Now is your chance to back out. I can have your talent removed and settle you with another wheelwright.” Wilson closed his eyes briefly, then looked back at the Count, caught his eye and said, “I came here to have a place with my father. I have no idea who he is or even if he is still alive. I don’t want to throw away my ‘talent’ before I know much about it, so even if you do kill me it will be a lot more interesting than making and repairing wheels.”

The Count let out a breath, and said, “Good, because I wouldn’t have let you do that anyway. Your talent is too valuable to waste. I am leaving today on a raid to retaliate for the one on your village and I may be gone a few days. You will be left with a tutor who will teach your letters and your numbers. The only thing you can use your talent for while I am away is to help you understand what you are being taught.” The Count caught and held Wilson’s gaze.

“Come with me over here,” The Count said as he stood up and walked through to the next room. “You need a new name. Wilson is just too obvious. It should be something simple.” The Count put his hand on Wilson’s shoulder, and said, “You are now “Art”. Do you think you can remember that?”

Wilson/Art looked back at the Count, and said, “I was told that my father might give me a new name when I first met him.”

The Count grabbed Art and pushed him in front of a mirror, and then stood beside him. “Look!” Barring the beard they looked very alike. “You probably never saw a mirror before did you? Any other questions, Art?” Art numbly shook his head. “Oh, Art, one last thing; if I ever think you are using your talent to take advantage of any girl, I will turn you into one. You see, I like daughters! Understood?”