Apprentices Journey (eBook)

Chapter 1

“Flint, clear the table and remember you must clean the stables and the chicken coop before you even think about doing anything else.” Flint’s father yelled as he headed out the back door to his workshop.

Flint, the youngest of six kids, was the runt of the group. He was tall and bright for his age but of very slight build to the point of being skinny. At school, the kids called him bones. Flint came from a working family. His father Joe was a tanner as well as a leatherworker who was known for the quality of his work. Flint’s father was a very hard working man. As was customary, the eldest son, Chris, who would take over the business, worked alongside their father, learning the craft and the business. Flint’s other two brothers, Gary and George, were in the Home Guard and also ran a small farm that had been given to them by the king for service in protecting the borders from the constant incursions by the Orcs and Trolls. Together the two brothers had killed a dragon that had been terrorizing the northern towns.

The king had granted the brothers permission to keep the dragon’s skin, claws and teeth after they had delivered to him a shield and chest plate made out of some of the dragon’s scales. The brothers now traded dragon’s blood, scales, teeth and claws to help support themselves and their farm.

Since Flint was the youngest and his older brother, Chris, would take over the family business, Flint was expected to make his own way in life after he turned sixteen. Everybody in the family had some reservations about his perspectives. He was already considered by many as too small for the army or the active Home Guard. He was fair in school but his marks would not get him accepted into the Royal Academy like his sister Anna had been. Flint was bright and did well in school but tests were not his forte—he never did well on tests. He showed no interest and his body was not made for tanning—his hands were not strong enough for that line of work. No one in the family knew what they were going to do with the runt called Flint. He, however, dreamed of leaving the village and traveling to far-off lands and leaving the little town of White Water far behind. Little did Flint know that his dream was about to come true.

While he was cleaning out the chicken coop, an old man in a traveling cloak and hat came into the courtyard from the fields behind. On seeing Flint, the man asked in a demanding voice, “Boy, where can I find your parents?” Flint looked at the traveler and said, “The name is Flint, not BOY, and do you have some business with my father?”

The traveler looked at Flint. “I know your name, and that you’re fourteen years of age. You are the youngest son, no, make that the youngest child of Joe Hailstone, who is a tanner and leathersmith by trade. You’re the younger brother of Gary and George Hailstone, the dragon slayers. The business I have with your parents is my business for now. Remember you still must show respect when speaking to your elders. Now, where may I find your parents please?”

“My father is in his workshop and my mother is in the house.”

The old man looked at Flint with a stern eye, and then with a commanding voice, called out, “Well, now boy, go get your mother and escort her to your father’s shop. I will need to talk to both of them.”

Annoyed at being called “boy” again, Flint nodded his head slightly in a semi-polite manner and watched as the old man headed off to his father’s shop before he grudgingly headed off into the house to get his mother. Flint was wondering who this strange old man was, and why he had come into the courtyard by way of the field. The old man appeared to have only a small traveling bag and a large walking stick. Flint went into the house and found his mom fixing soup in the kitchen.

“Mom, there is a strange, old man with a long, gray beard and a traveling cloak with a large walking stick that would like to talk to you and dad out in the workshop.”

Flint’s mom looked up from cutting up some carrots and rosemary for the soup to ask Flint who the man was, his name and what he wanted.

Flint looked at her and said that he was just some grumpy, old fart, who did not give him his name or business, plus he told him to mind his own business and to escort his mom to the shop.

Flint’s mom gave him a look that would have turned butter into stone and reminded him to keep a civil tongue in his head and said she would not have him speak disrespectfully of anybody, including an elder.

When Flint started to say something, his mother cut him off. “Not another word. Let’s go see what this gentleman wants. I hope you have not gone and gotten yourself into trouble.”

Wiping her hands on her apron, Flint’s mother followed him out into the courtyard, then into the shop, where they found the traveler and Flint’s dad talking and laughing.

When they entered, the old man smiled and looked at Flint and said, “I thought you had gotten lost.”

Flint’s father told Flint to go take care of the man’s horse, to feed him and give him a good brush and some freshwater. The horse would be found out behind the barn grazing in the field, he said. Flint’s father motioned for him to leave, so Flint thought it was not a good idea to stick around. But as Flint left, he grumbled under his breath about having to look after the old guy’s horse and wondered why it was out back. Why did he not come in by the road like most other visitors?

After Flint had left the shop, his father introduced the traveler to Flint’s mother. “Sylvia, this is Lorfan.”

Her mouth fell open, “You mean the wizard?”

Lorfan bowed, “A pleasure to meet you. I met your husband in the king’s court and I have met your sons when I bought some dragon’s blood from them. I have even spent a night or two out at their farm. What a lovely little place they have.”

Sylvia regained her composure, looked at her husband then back at Lorfan, and asked, “What business brings you to our home?”

“A meal, if possible, some good riding gloves, and your son!”

“My son? A meal and gloves, yes, that would be a pleasure. But my son, I do not understand? And which son?”

Lorfan looked at her and calmly stated, “Every once in a while we in the wizard world, or wizard profession, select a few able students to train and carry on the profession. This year the Wizard Council chose me, or tasked me, to select five students to train to become part of the next generation of wizards. And yes, your son is one of the four I have selected. Your son can become a great wizard, not just a good one. I met him before when your husband came to the court of King Alfred a few years ago. Your son does not remember me for we were not properly introduced. I have also watched him whenever I have come to town and on a couple of occasions, have seen him in the fields when I went to see Gary and George. You know they grow some of the most excellent herbs. Flint needs a profession—one that he can excel at, and few are ever chosen and none are chosen by chance. Flint has the talent.”

Both Sylvia and Joe looked at each other and then at Lorfan and at the same time blurted out, “A WIZARD!”

Sylvia was quick to follow up with a question. “Are you sure you have the right boy?”

Lorfan’s smile only deepened as he replied, “I am most positive I have the right boy.”

Sylvia then tried to reason why it could not be her son. “But he is only fourteen. He is not ready for the world. He is definitely too young”.

Lorfan looked at her. “Is he too young? Or are you just not ready to let go of your youngest child?”

After a minute to let his questions sink in, Lorfan continued.

“He has the talent; he can handle a bow and a sword so he is ready for the world. His teacher at school has told me he has a quick mind but lacks focus. He is good with science, research and reading but is lacking in some of the other areas. His biggest problem in school is his inability to take tests. He has the talent and he is the right age to start his training as a wizard’s apprentice.”

Joe then asked a few questions, still trying to understand this sudden news. “How long is the training and how much does it cost?”

“The training can be up to five years, but some students are presented early to the council. Flint will need twenty pieces of silver, a horse, bed roll, bow, sword, and some personal items. The rest he can earn along the way and I also have a grant from King Alfred that he can use as required. I leave the day after tomorrow early in the morning. Now can we ask what Flint thinks of the idea—if he says no, then I must be on my way and find another student. Also I know that the silver may be hard to find right now, so if you can spare just a couple of pieces for the start of the journey, the rest I will cover with the grant and he can earn some more along the way.”

Joe and Sylvia again, as if still baffled, muttered, “A wizard?

“Yes, a wizard. Now can we call the boy in?”

Joe went to the yard and called his youngest son into his shop.

Flint hesitantly entered the workshop thinking that he must have done something wrong and was about to be scolded for something even though he could not think of anything he had done to deserve a scolding. When he entered the shop, he instantly noticed that his parents and the stranger all had intense looks and were staring at him.

Flint looked at his father and said, “Yes, sir, you called...