Assassin's Apprentice

"I wouldn't," I told him sullenly. I would prove myself fairly to Galen, or not at all.

"You've no chance of passing this trial he's designed, do you?" Burrich's tone was casual, but I could hear how he braced himself to be disappointed by my answer.

"None," I said flatly, and we were both silent a moment, listening to the finality of that word.

"Well." He cleared his throat and gave his belt a hitch. "Then you'd best get it over with and get back here, then. It's not like you haven't had good luck with your other schooling. A man can't expect to succeed at everything he tries." He attempted to make my failure at the Skill sound as if it were of no consequence.

"I suppose not. Will you take care of Smithy for me while I'm gone?"

"I will." He started to turn away, then turned back, almost reluctantly. "How much is that dog going to miss you?"

I heard his other question, but tried to avoid it. "I don't know. I've had to leave him so much during these lessons, I'm afraid he won't miss me at all."

"I doubt that," Burrich said ponderously. He turned away. "I doubt that a very great deal," he said as he walked off between the rows of stalls. And I knew that he knew, and was disgusted, not just that Smithy and I shared a bond, but that I refused to admit it.

"As if admitting it were an option, with him," I muttered to Sooty. I bade my animals farewell, trying to convey to Smithy that several meals and nights would pass before he saw me again. He wriggled and fawned and protested that I must take him, that I would need him. He was too big to pick up and hug anymore. I sat down and he came into my lap and I held him. He was so warm and solid, so near and real. For a moment I felt how right he was, that I would need him to be able to survive this failure. But I reminded myself that he would be here, waiting for me when I returned, and I promised him several days of my time for his sole benefit when I returned. I would take him on a long hunt, such as we had never had time for before. Now, he suggested, and soon, I promised. Then I went back up to the keep to pack a change of clothes and some traveling food.

The next morning had much of pomp and drama to it and very little sense, to my way of thinking. The others to be tested seemed elated. Of the eight of us that were setting out, I was the only one who seemed unimpressed by the restless horses and the eight covered litters. Galen lined us up and blindfolded us as threescore or more of people looked on. Most of them were related to the students, or friends, or the keep gossips. Galen made a brief speech, ostensibly to us, but telling us what we already knew: that we were to be taken to different locations and left; that we must cooperate, using the Skill, in order to make our ways back to the keep; that if we succeeded, we would become a coterie and serve our king magnificently and be essential to defeating the Red-Ship Raiders. The last bit impressed our onlookers, for I heard muttering tongues as I was escorted to my litter and assisted inside.

There passed a miserable day and a half for me. The litter swayed, and with no fresh air on my face or scenery to distract me, I soon felt queasy from it. The man guiding the horses had been sworn to silence and kept his word. We paused briefly that night. I was given a meager meal, bread and cheese and water, and then I was reloaded and the jolting and swaying resumed.

At about midday of the following day, the litter halted. Once more I was assisted in dismounting. Not a word was said, and I stood, stiff and headachy and blindfolded in a strong wind. When I heard the horses leaving, I decided I had reached my destination and reached up to untie my blindfold. Galen had knotted it tightly and it took me a moment to get it off.

I stood on a grassy hillside. My escort was well on his way to a road that wound past the base of the hill, moving swiftly. The grass was tall around my knees, sere from winter, but green at the base. I could see other grassy hills with rocks poking out of their sides, and strips of woodland sheltering at their feet. I shrugged and turned to get my bearings. It was hilly country, but I could scent the sea and a low tide to the east somewhere. I had a nagging sense that the countryside was familiar; not that I had been to this particular spot before, but that the lay of the terrain was familiar somehow. I turned, and to the west saw the Sentinel. There was no mistaking the double jag of its peak. I had copied over for Fedwren a map less than a year ago, and the creator had chosen the Sentinel's distinctive peak as a motif for the decorative border. So. The sea over there, the Sentinel there, and with a suddenly dipping stomach, I knew where I was. Not too far from Forge.