An Apprentice Without Magic, page 12
part #2 of Magic Missing Series
Sam frowned. “I didn’t intend to have my comments seized so quickly. I was surprised you caught on to my supposition so soon.”
Dickey cocked his head. “I’m a snoop. I am paid to put facts together, and so are you. What do we do when we find out the lords whose houses were victimized are members of this exclusive club?”
“It makes them all suspects, doesn’t it?” Sam asked.
“It does. I was thinking servants, but the facts serve your scenario better. They go to the club and are snared by some other lord…”
“Or an employee,” Sam said.
“Right. They are put under the spell of the sheep’s pollen, and the deer pollen makes them forget the whole thing.” Dickey smiled. “It is still only an idea, and we keep it as private as we reminded Antina Mulch to be about our conversations.”
“You don’t have to worry about me,” Sam said. “Now we have to gather evidence, correct?”
“Correct.”
~
Sam’s senses took in the sights, smells, and sounds of the tavern Dickey Nail dragged him to.
Cherryton didn’t allow anyone under eighteen into drinking establishments, but in Baskin, apprentices were permitted if accompanied by an adult. Looking around and spotting young faces, Sam wondered how strictly the constabulary enforced the ordinance.
Dickey didn’t seem to be bothered as he spotted Faran Rubble, the butler of Lord Ditch who was Dickey’s school friend.
“Young Smith!” Faran said before turning to Dickey. “I see you dragged along your partner to our little reunion.”
Dickey grunted. From Sam’s perspective, the two school chums didn’t appear to be the best of buddies, but Dickey needed Faran’s help, and Sam wondered how Dickey would approach getting it.
“Let’s order something to drink first,” Faran said. He seemed amiable enough. He called a serving mistress and asked for ale, watered for Sam. “Now, you want to use me for one of your nefarious investigations?”
“I do,” Dickey said, not wasting any time. “You know the nobility, and I suppose you have heard of the Piper Club?”
Faran produced a smug grin. “I have, I have. Exclusive place, and not for likes of you or me, or even young Smith, here. They only allow court speech in the place, but the food and the ambiance are superb. I’ve been twice, accompanying my lord to document off-record ministry meetings. He is an under-minister in the Royal Navy.” Faran leaned over the table. “I can’t tell you details, but I can say the King’s public stance doesn’t always reflect the true royal policy.”
Sam wasn’t exactly shocked. His summer had expanded his world, but a few months in the capital had given him an eye-opening picture of Baskin. His perception of Harrison Dimple’s situation became more complicated.
The serving mistress jostled Sam as she served drinks, spilling ale on his head. He resisted jumping to his feet, not wanting more than his hair damp and waited for her to step aside.
“I’m so sorry lad. If you step to the gents room, you can clean yourself up,” she said.
Dickey frowned. “Go on, or you’ll be stinking of ale for the rest of the night.”
Sam did as he was told. The lavatory didn’t smell any better than Sam’s hair, but the water bucket looked clean. He rinsed his hair and stepped into the corridor. Two large men on stood on either side of the door with their arms folded.
“Are you going to give us trouble?” one of them asked.
Sam cleared his throat, realizing how isolated he was from his partner. “No. I’ll be heading to my table,” he said. “I won’t make a stink,” he had to smile at the word, “about being doused with ale.”
“That isn’t the kind of trouble we are talking about. You are Nail’s partner right?”
“I am,” Sam said. There wasn’t any reason to deny it. “What is it you want of me?”
“What is your partner meeting the butler for?”
Sam wanted to ask why it was the thugs’ business, but that would be giving them trouble. He found himself at a distinct disadvantage. His wand would be of little use in the narrow confines of the hallway.
“Constable Nail knew Faran Rubble in school. They are renewing their acquaintance after many years. We met Master Rubble on an investigation.”
“Why today? Why now?”
Sam shrugged. “There are some details from the investigation that Constable Nail thought Master Rubble might help with him from the perspective within a noble house.”
The pair of them looked at each other. “We are watching you,” the one who did all the talking said.
“Who are we?” Sam said.
The silent one roughly cuffed Sam on the side of the head. “Not for you to know.”
They stepped aside and let Sam return to the table. As he sat down, he looked towards the hallway to see one of the men talking to the serving mistress. His trip to the gent’s room was a setup.
“You took your time,” Dickey said.
“I was told to give you a message.”
Dickey raised his eyebrows and looked towards the hallway, but Sam could see the thugs were gone.
“Two men told me that they are watching us. They knew you and Faran Rubble were talking.”
“What did you tell them?”
“I gave them an abbreviated version of the truth.”
Dickey looked off, but his eyes didn’t focus on anything. He remained silent for a few moments. “If they knew of Faran, I would say so. What do you think?” He looked at Faran.
“Why not? We aren’t doing anything illegal.” Sam said.
“And you think putting some muscle on an apprentice constable is?” Dickey said.
“No.” Sam pursed his lips. He didn’t say another word.
Dickey glared momentarily at Sam before he turned to Faran. “So how would we proceed to watch the club? Can we get a person on the inside?”
Faran slid his chair closer to the table. “You and I couldn’t…” his eyes slid to Sam. “They prefer young men as servers, particularly those who only know a few commands in court speech. I might be able to find employment for Sam. We might have to darken his hair or something, and he’d have to wear his spectacles at all times, not just when he examines pollen.”
“I can do that,” Sam said. He looked at a secret mission as a way to evade his fellow apprentices.
Dickey scowled. “It would be dangerous. The thugs knew you were with me.”
“Will the thugs be at the Piper Club?” Sam asked.
Faran lifted the corner of his mouth. “Not likely. All you’d have to do is keep your eyes and ears open. You can do that, can’t you boy?”
Dickey grunted. “Who is the boy’s trainer, Faran? You are getting ahead of yourself. I’ll have to think about it, and if my thinking indicates that Sam give it a try, then Chief Constable Bentwick will have to approve.”
“That seems like it will take a little time, time the boy can use to get some servant training from me.”
“Servant training?” Sam said.
Faran nodded. “You’ll have to know what happens in a men’s club. It’s not different from this place, really, but there are nuances that you should be aware of. Lord and Lady will be gone from the mansion for a month starting next week. That should be plenty of time to get you prepared.” The butler eyed Dickey. “If Chief Constable Bentwick approves, of course.”
Chapter Fourteen
~
S am had never had to study so hard at Cherryton. The idea of sending him undercover seemed to thrill Bentwick, much to Dickey’s obvious displeasure, so Sam’s day had devolved to swordsmanship in the early morning, followed by servant training with Faran until noon. Sam ate lunch at Antina Mulch’s shop, and the clandestine court language lessons that had suddenly turned into an integral part of Sam’s preparation for his role at the Piper Club gobbled up his afternoons.
“Your diction is very good, but your grammar!” Antina said, raising her sight to the ceiling. “You need more vocabulary.”
“I’ve been at this for little more than two weeks,” Sam said. “Doesn’t it take someone years to learn a new language?”
Antina pushed out her lower lip. “Are you just anybody? Not by a bunch, young man.” She put her fists on ample hips and narrowed her eyes. “I’ll have no whining from you. Don’t get frustrated by your progress. You can speed through some parts and go agonizing slow through others. Your grammar is not up to your diction. Your vocabulary is improving, actually. You need to learn enough so you can think in Vaarekian. When that happens, the language will rush into your brain.” She pulled on her pushed-out lip. “Or it should.”
She gave Sam a broad smile. “Go over your drills tonight at home. I think we are about done here, today. I have an appointment with your brother soon.”
“Tru? What has he done to merit your attention?” Sam said.
“He worked on the alloy for your glass frames, if you remember. I’ve been giving him odd jobs, but I have something additional in mind for him.”
“Employment? He’s doing just fine at Potter’s.”
Antina frowned. “Is he?”
Sam felt a shock of fear for his brother. “Has he been fired? He hasn’t said anything to me.”
“You know he isn’t happy working with apprentices, don’t you?”
Sam nodded.
“I want to experiment using other metals, and Tru knows his work. I’ve even had him make a few decorative items in his backyard forge. Small things, of course, suitable for my clients.”
“Has he done well?”
Antina nodded. “I shouldn’t be telling you, but I think he has a flair for design. Working with decorative iron grills is what drove him to Baskin, and now he languishes at Potter’s.”
“Do you have any of his work?”
“One piece,” Antina said. She rose from the alcove where Sam took his language lessons and returned with a small metal sculpture. The design was simple, yet it flowed. “He cast this from a pollen version. You might know more about the process than I.”
“I do. I’ve never seen anything like this before.”
Antina nodded. She replaced the piece and returned to the table. “Tru knows nothing about selling, but that is what I do, so maybe there is something there, maybe not. Don’t tell him we talked. I’m sure he will want to tell you all about it at some point.”
Sam hoped so. He was a bit confused about how he felt about a new career for Tru. Most smiths stayed where they were for their entire lives unless circumstances dictated a shift. Mark, Sam’s brother, and his mother had engineered such a shift for Tru.
His brother never talked about it, but with perspective gained months removed from his final departure, it was clearer that Tru had been kicked out of Cherryton with the same ruthlessness that Sam had.
“I hope it works out. I will follow your advice and keep my mouth shut.” Sam would follow his words, but he would take a closer interest in the backyard forge.
“I don’t want your mouth shut,” Antina said with a bit of a giggle. “I want it to issue forth clear, well-structured Vaarekian.”
“I’ll do better,” Sam said.
~
Sam’s sessions with Faran bordered on the surreal. There were so many little rules for this and for that. How could people live with such fawning over by servants?
“It pays well,” Faran said when Sam verbalized his thoughts.
“But why get a lot of pay for spending your life cleaning up others’ messes?”
Faran laughed. “Was your family so well off you didn’t need more money to live, or to help a relative or friend?”
Sam sat back in the chair. He looked around the servant’s dining hall in the mansion where he had met the butler for the first time. “My father made enough money as a smith, so we didn’t have to worry about such things. He did make me earn money to buy real books for school.”
“Real books?” Faran asked.
Sam cleared his throat. “I was ahead of my fellow students, so I had to buy different textbooks,” he said, feeling his face warm up when he told the little lie. He had to buy real books, not the pollen ones they used at school that were useless to Sam.
Faran gave Sam a funny look. “So today we will tour the wine cellar, and I will introduce you to the alcoholic beverages they serve at the Piper Club.”
“Won’t your employer find out?”
The butler laughed. “We aren’t going to drink them. It will be show and tell, not drink and tell. We wouldn’t last long if we tasted each of Lord Ditch’s collection.”
“Oh, that’s better.”
“It is if you want to learn what the different bottles are like. Take your notebook. You’ll need to write and draw.”
They descended into the basement. Faran unlocked a very solid looking door. “This is the place. The spirits behind this door are worth a few fortunes.”
Sam thought Faran spoke as if they were entering a holy place. The door opened, and when Faran brought the lamp in, a thousand glints of light suddenly appeared. The butler lit other lamps, brightening up the room, creating more tiny points of light.
“The staff polishes the bottles on a rotating basis. We are quite proud of this place. Now, let’s get to work,” Faran said.
They spent the rest of the morning going through the lord’s collection. Sam wrote down the name of the wine or spirit, sketched the label and Faran described what was in each bottle and added his opinion on the particular spirit.
Sam left the mansion dazzled by the variety of spirits. He never realized there was such a variety, but then the lord bought from all the countries on Holding, and they hadn’t gotten to the liquors from other continents.
His head had stopped spinning by the time he arrived at Antina Mulch’s shop.
Tru sat with Antina at the table in the alcove. They both stood up when Sam walked in.
“What are you doing here?” Sam asked his brother.
“I am joining Antina’s business,” Tru said. “I had an argument with Potter today. He kindly let me go.” He made an ugly face. “He never intended to let me work with the others. I was to be the trainer for the apprentices who, as it ended up, were all connected to Potter in some way.”
Sam could see the experience hurt Tru. “I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. Antina is already paying me more for my sculptures than I received from Potter. I’ll learn how to do the fine stuff.” Tru smiled.
Sam wondered if Tru would get over the pain of his experience so far in Baskin. The rejection Sam felt from the apprentices and some of his family still made him sad. He returned his brother’s smile. “Good.” He looked at Antina. “He can make a living?”
She grinned. “He already is, and his work is catching on. I will teach him how to make jewelry, and that will expand Tru’s ability to make money doing something he enjoys more than shouting at unruly apprentices.”
“Hey, I’m an unruly apprentice,” Sam said.
“An apprentice, yes. Unruly? No.” Antina countered. She looked at Tru. “We have work to do. Now that Sam knows, you can return to your forge.”
Tru bowed to both of them and said playfully to Antina, “Yes, Mistress.”
His brother’s comment erased Sam’s worrying. As they continued to banter, Sam realized that his brother was more comfortable than he had seen him during his time working at Potter’s Decorative Iron.
“I’d better go,” Tru said. He turned to Sam. “I’ll show you what I’m doing tonight. I’ve kept my work close, but there is no need for that now. Enjoy lunch.” He rose and left the shop to Antina and Sam.
“What is in that thick notebook?” Antina asked.
“A spirits list.”
“You’ve taken to tracking down ghosts?” Antina said.
“No. It is part of my training to enter service at the Piper Club.”
Antina leaned over. “Can I look at it?”
Sam shrugged. “Certainly.” He handed her the notebook.
“For our lesson today, we will go over these labels and practice pronouncing them in the court language.”
“But I can read all of them,” Sam said.
She smiled indulgently. “The lords will pronounce these words differently than a normal Toraltian would. You need to learn how they say the words so you can respond in such a way they won’t be laughing behind your back.”
“They will be doing that anyway,” Sam said. “I’m going to come across as a boy in from the country.”
Antina shook her head. “Not if you know some court language. Even a little will prove to a lord that you are an employee of the establishment.”
Sam sighed. “I suppose that is as good as learning more grammar.”
“And more useful to your mission. You can master these.”
“This is only a portion,” Sam said.
Antina giggled and clapped her hands. “I have an assignment for you. After you have worked on these, I’d like you to pronounce the new labels tomorrow without my guidance, so pay close attention.”
Sam nodded, and they worked on the first five labels until lunch arrived from a local restaurant. By the time he was ready to go home, he had realized the exercise had helped him with some diction problems he had been having.
He left Antina’s shop and proceeded home, anxious to see what Tru had to show him. Emmy barked from the window as Sam walked up to the house. He walked in, thinking that his dog would be licking him and nearly knocking him down, but she ran to the back door.
Sam could tell something was wrong. She seemed agitated, being locked in. After opening the door, she ran past him and barked. Sam could see Tru’s body on the weedy turf.
“Tru!” Sam shouted as he ran to his brother.
The forge had been quenched with a lot of water and dismantled; however, destroyed seemed to be a better description.
Sam didn’t see much blood, but with the way his clothes were soiled and rumpled, he had been beaten. Sam knew the feeling. He checked Tru out and filled a bucket with water and began to wipe away the dirt and what blood was there. It seemed that none of it was Tru’s.
