About halfway home, a thought occurred to him: his parents would never let him apprentice with one of the devil touched! Randall wouldn’t be surprised if his mother didn’t chase Earl out of the house with a carving knife once the man mentioned that he was a magicker. And besides, he never even bothered to ask where Randall lived and he hadn’t told the man his name! By the time he reached the edge of the Miller property, he had convinced himself that Earl
had
been teasing him. After all, how would he even know where to find Randall?
The more he thought about it, the better Randall felt. And he’d already gotten a job as a baker! It certainly wasn’t a soldier’s life, but after he became a journeyman, he could cut a deal with his father for flour, and help turn a tidy profit for the both of them! He was practically whistling by the time he reached the front porch. Wait until his parents heard that he’d managed to get a good job, on the first day of job fair no less!
Randall’s heart sank like a stone when he opened the front door, and saw Pa and Earl smoking pipes and laughing in the front room like old friends.
“Well, don’t just stand there like a bump on a log, Randall. Come on in,” his father said. Randall stepped into the house, and closed the door behind him. The living room was filled with sweet pipe smoke. Randall guessed that they had been smoking for quite a while, judging by how low it hung from the ceiling.
“Earl was just telling me how you made a fine impression on him this morning, son!” His father beamed proudly.
“He was?” Randall asked, stalling for time.
Why is Pa acting this way?
Randall feared the worst: that his father must be under Earl’s power. If that was the case, then Randall was already doomed.
“Hell yes, son. He told me how he saw you and Bobby goin’ rounds with practice swords, and how you thrashed him right good. Said you have the makings of a fine caravan guard,” his father crowed like a rooster. “I’m proud of you son! I knew you’d come into your manhood soon enough!” Earl snuck Randall a wink where his father couldn’t see. Randall’s father wasn’t under the influence of a spell, then…only a lie. Maybe Randall had a chance, after all.
“Earl here says he was just passing through town tonight, on his way to Paranol to pick up a wagon train of spices. Said he thought he’d look over the boys in town and see if any of them looked promising, and that you looked to be the best of the lot! He’s come to give you an offer of apprenticeship, on first day of job fair! Now that’s a feat!” John Miller continued, excited.
“But Pa, you don’t understand. He…he…” He what? Randall thought. He certainly has my Pa pegged. What am I supposed to do now, tell the truth? Tell him that Bobby beat me with one hit, and this man is a dangerous magicker? The one he won’t want to believe as the truth, and the other will seem too silly to be so! Randall had never been very good at sports or other games boys played, but Pa always told him he’d ‘come into his manhood soon enough’. And Earl was telling his father exactly what he wanted to hear.
“What is it, Randall? Spit it out.” Pa never had much patience for shenanigans, and his face was already betraying signs of his annoyance.
Randall had a flash of inspiration. “But, I already got an offer with a baker this morning, Pa. He thinks my milling experience will be a big help in his shop. He said we could leave in a couple of days.” He looked over at Earl, and tried to look disappointed. “I’m sorry mister. I was so excited, I took his offer. If only I’d known you had seen me fighting…” he trailed off.
Earl frowned at Randall momentarily, before brightening and clapping his hands together. “Well, Mr. Miller I told you the boy had talent! I hadn’t expected to find any suitable boys at all, to tell you the truth,” Earl confided. “But when I saw your boy on the practice field, I could tell he was a natural! He’s rough around the edges, of course, but with the proper training, he’ll become a fine fighting man.”
The more Earl lathered on the praise, the more Randall’s father puffed up with pride. “Why, I’m not surprised that the boy’s had more than one nibble today. Not surprised at all! But I’m sure he hasn’t yet taken the oath of apprenticeship, have you boy?” Earl gave him a look that foretold dire consequences if he lied.
Randall considered lying anyway, but the oath had to be given in front of witnesses. Randall would find himself in deep trouble indeed if Earl or his father asked who they were, and he couldn’t produce someone who’d vouch for him. And judging from the look on Earl’s face, it was obvious that Earl would be relentless in exposing any falsehood. “No, sir,” Randall said meekly.
“Well, then, there’s no deal yet.” He turned back to Randall’s father. “As I mentioned when I came over, I was impressed with the boy, and wanted to grab him up before everyone started fighting over him. I’m sure you’re probably aware that this kind of thing happens all the time with boys that are the choice of the litter! No deal’s done ‘til the oath’s sworn.”
John Miller nodded his head. “He’s right, Randall. Besides, you’ve said often enough you were interested in soldiering. Being a caravan guard’s almost the same, only Earl tells me it’s easier work! And soldiering is more respected a profession than baking, that’s for sure!”
Earl piped up. “Rightly so. You’ll never hear any legends told or songs sung about Randall the Baker! No sir, no how! Now, Mr. Miller, it usually takes two years or so to properly train a person to wield the sword and stand watch. But during that time, he’ll be working as a junior guard. Setting camp, loading and unloading boxes, and the like. Those duties earn wages, and under apprenticeship, those wages rightfully belong to you until Randall is declared his own man and can earn his own wages.”
John Miller nodded his head. He was familiar with the traditional arrangement. During very busy seasons, he’d hired boys before, and even taken on an apprentice once, before his own boys were big enough to help with the workload. The money paid to an apprentice was less than a regular hired laborer would earn, but in return the apprentice was clothed, fed, housed, and taught a craft that he could use to earn his own keep when he finished his apprenticeship. Everyone benefitted. The boy learned a valuable trade to take him into manhood, his family earned a few ringets on the side, and the apprentice’s master got the benefit of cheap labor.
“Mr. Miller, it’s obvious the boy has prospects,” Earl’s tone turned matter-of-fact. “I want you to know that I’m serious about this boy’s training, and I think he’s got too much potential to be wasted making biscuits. I’m willing to pay his entire training wage up front, if it’ll help seal the deal. That way, you won’t have to worry about the wages being lost to bandits, or perhaps falling off during the slow trading seasons. And after paying up front, you’ll know I’ll train him right, to get my money’s worth out of him…” Earl trailed off, muttering and counting on his fingers before speaking again. “Most boys go on fifteen or sixteen caravan trips before their training is complete, so by my reckoning, that comes out to….hmm…two talens.”
Talens?!
Randall had never seen the golden coin before. There was no gold to speak of in the one mountain range on Tallia’s northwest coast. There had been a smallish deposit there once, but it had been mined away generations ago. Any gold in Tallia, either coins or jewelry, came from the larger continent of Salianca, and almost never made it to the smaller towns and villages on the island. Randall stared, fascinated as Earl extracted two of the largish yellow coins from his pouch and laid them on the table with a heavy-sounding clink. Randall’s father was mesmerized by them as well. He gingerly picked one up and unconsciously brought it to his teeth to bite it as he stared at the other. His eyes widened as the soft metal gave slightly under the pressure. It
was
gold.
“Now, I understand there’ll be a bit of a fuss from all of the other merchants and craftsmen if I snatch your boy up today before they’ve all had a fair bid on him. I imagine that baker chap will be especially steamed. But I’m aiming to leave tonight if I’m to make my run on time, and it’d be a shame if I left without such a fine young lad.” Earl said. “For your trouble, I think I can throw in an extra four florn”. Earl stacked the silver coins on the table next to the remaining talen. Randall’s father still had the one talen between his teeth, looking dumbfounded. “All told, that should just about cover all of the boy’s wages during training, plus a little extra to smooth over any ruffled feathers,” Earl finished.
Randall’s father let the gold coin drop from his mouth into his hand, never taking his eyes off the small fortune sitting on his table. If Randall had apprenticed as a baker or woodworker, the elder Miller could have expected to get a ringet or two in apprentice wages every couple of months. A single talen was worth more than his father could earn in profit over several years, and there were two of them sitting in front of him, in addition to a small stack of silver. It was enough money for Randall’s father to effect a modest retirement, if he so chose. He didn’t hesitate an instant.
“Done. Randall, go to your room and pack your things,” Randall’s father spoke with the finality of a horse-trader closing a deal. He raked the rest of the coins from the table to join the talen in his hand.
Randall was shocked out of his near trance, and his eyes shot to his father. Tears started to well up, as the gravity of his situation hit home. His father shot him a sharp look, and spoke in his no-nonsense voice.
“Look Randall, I know it’s sudden. But you impressed Earl here with your ability to be a man. Now it’s time to be one and not embarrass me with any blubbering. Caravanning will be more exciting than baking, and I’m told you can earn a good fortune doing it.” His eyes returned to the coins in his hand, as he rubbed them between his fingers. Randall realized that his father had probably never seen a talen before in his life either.
Randall ran back to his room, tears streaming down his cheeks. He began hastily stuffing tunics into a travel sack, muttering to himself the entire time.
I can’t believe Pa! He sold me like I was no different than a big sack of flour! Sold to a devil touched magicker. I never even had a say in the matter!
Randall started really crying in earnest then, sobbing and snuffling as he stuffed a pair breeches on top of his tunics. It took a quite a while for him to finish his packing, but by the time he did, he’d pretty much cried himself out. His eyes were red-rimmed but dry as he left his room, resigned to his fate. He heard his mother talking in the kitchen, and went in to say his goodbyes.
His mother, Joshua and Eric were sitting at the table there, but it was obvious she hadn’t even started dinner yet. All of them looked like they had been crying recently, too. Randall ran to his mother and threw his arms around her. She hugged him back for a long moment.
“I don’t wanna go Momma,” Randall whined. At the sound of Randall’s voice, Joshua started crying again.
Randall’s mother pushed him back and held him at arm’s length. “Hush child. I’ve known this day was coming for a while. I just didn’t know it’d be so soon. You’re growing up to be a young man, and you’d be leaving us soon enough anyway. Waiting wouldn’t make it any easier when that day came. Now John tells me you’ve got good prospects, and the chance to make us proud.” She ruffled his hair and turned him around. “Now you go on, before I start bawling again.”
Randall spun back around to give his mother one more quick hug before turning and marching his way back to the front room. His father had relit his pipe, and Earl was standing near the front door, already wearing his journey cloak.
“Just one thing before we set off, boy.” Earl said. “Law says I gotta do this in front of witnesses, and your Pa seems like an upstanding and honest man.” Randall’s father smiled broadly around his pipe stem, his hand still clutching his money so tightly his knuckles were white. “I’ll give you the short version. I, Earl, promise to take you as my apprentice, to teach you my craft, treat you fairly, and to lead you into manhood as if my own flesh and blood.” He looked over at Randall’s father. “Fair enough?”
I notice he didn’t mention what his ‘craft’ was, Randall thought sarcastically.
After receiving a nod of acceptance from Randall’s father, Earl continued. “Do you, Randall Miller, swear your oath before this witness to apply yourself diligently to your lessons, to perform any tasks and related chores that I may see fit to assign, and to obey me as if I were your own father?”
Randall looked down, toeing the floor while he tried to find some loophole in the oath Earl had given him. His father’s patience came to an end before Randall could think of some way out of his dilemma. “Randall…” the elder Miller started.
Randall quickly looked up at Earl. “Yes sir,” he said quietly.
“Well then, boy. Let’s be off so that we can make it to the inn before they stop serving dinner!” Earl ordered. He opened the door and ushered Randall out.
Earl had a relatively simple cart tied up on the far side of the house, and two surprisingly good horses to pull it. Randall climbed aboard in silence, and waited for the older man to hitch up the horses and start on their way. Earl, for his part, seemed content to let Randall stew quietly as he guided the horses along the dark road.
After a quarter hour passed in silence, Randall couldn’t contain himself any longer. “We could have at least spent the night at home and had Momma’s cooking instead of riding alone in the dark.” He muttered sullenly.
“Aha!” Earl crowed. “I knew you’d break first, lad. You’re gonna have to learn more self control than that, you know. Now, as to staying at your place, that seems to me like it’d have been a very bad idea. What, and give you all night to think of some plan to run away or tell your folks that I have truck with evil spirits? I’m a bit smarter than that.” He grinned wickedly while tapping his temple.
Randall thought about that a moment, and realized Earl was right. After giving his oath of apprenticeship, in front of his father no less, there was no way he could break and run home now without bringing a great deal of shame to his entire family. He couldn’t tell his father that Earl was really a magicker—he’d sound too much like a child telling stories to get out of trouble. So, instead, it would look as if Randall was too lazy to work, and that his word was worthless. And then there was the matter of the money. Randall couldn’t see his father giving up that money easily. It was a fortune! He was likely already spending it in his head. Randall reflected on the enormous sum he’d seen on the table and decided that he probably would have made the same decision, under the same circumstances. Still, it hurt to watch himself being sold off like so much chattel, even if it
was
for gold.