The Doormaster's Apprentice

Chapter 3

  Mica woke Liam with a shake. “Rise and shine hero or you’ll have no dinner.”

  Liam rolled over and sat up. It was nearly dark. He must have been sleeping for hours. The cart was stopped in the middle of a small clearing. At the edge of the woods sagged a broken down hovel. “Where are we?” He yawned and looked around. “And where is Willow?”

  “Not much to look at but we're at the next journey camp. Willow is headed back to Fairgrove to ask some questions. Seems that sword she took off the goblin was bonded to a poison scabbard. It is well you avoided being nicked by his blade.”

  Liam stretched and ran his fingers through his hair combing out the straw. “Do you think we will ever see her again?”

  “Can't say, but it would be nice to meet her on the way back. She's handy in a fight and easy on the eyes.” As Mica spoke, he unhitched Little Smoky from her harness. Once she was free he started to rub her down with a piece of the torn blanket. “I’ll tend to Lit' Smoky. Her day was hard and long. If she cools down too fast she'll be sick. Why don’t you see what the Doormaster sent for dinner?”

  Liam hoisted up the seat and pulled out a cloth bag. After fumbling around inside for a minute he said, “Looks like roasted chicken, dark bread, cheese and cider.” Jumping off the cart he said, “The chicken is a little cold, I’ll start a fire.”

  Mica stopped with his hand resting on Little Smoky’s neck. “You know...sometimes, I eat my chicken cold.” He looked out at the gathering shadows. “We’ve a few leagues between us and the goblin cave, but a fire can be seen a long way at night.”

  Liam decided Mica was right, and went to fetch some water before the light completely faded. By the time Mica had Little Smoky staked out and bedded down the stars were coming out. The boys sat in the back of the cart on the straw and ate their dinner cold.

  Liam placed the leftovers under the seat. Closing the lid he peered into the darkness. He could hear Smoky grazing close by and could just make out her pale outline. “Do you think the goblins will bother us tonight?”

  “Like as not we’ll be okay. Goblins aren’t likely to walk this far just for a fight.” Mica stretched out and pulled his blanket over him.

  Liam breathed a little easier. The thought of fighting goblins in the dark was giving him the shakes.

  Mica rolled over, turning his back. “In case I’m wrong we’ll post a watch. You being the one that had the nap can watch first.”

  Liam sat straight up. “Wait, you want me…to watch for goblins…in the dark? How will I ever see them coming!”

  “Just stay awake. After today I’d be surprised if Lit’ Smoky let a goblin near her without raising a fuss.” Mica pulled his blanket up to his chin and snuggled down into the straw. “Don’t wake me until the moon is high above us.”

  Liam fumbled around in the cart until he found the ax. Squeezing himself into a corner he huddled there with the blanket wrapped around his shoulders like a cape. The ax rested across his knees. He strained his eyes, trying to see into the dark. The harder he tried to relax, the more his muscles tightened. He shivered. How would he ever live it down if his shivering shook the cart enough to wake Mica?

  He watched. He listened. And waited. Nothing. Nothing jumped out of the woods. Nothing attacked him. He became aware of crickets chirping and tree frogs singing as they courted. Slowly his muscles relaxed. His eyes adjusted, and the inky blackness took on form. Outlined trees painted dark silhouettes against the sky. Nearby bushes created deeper shades of black against the meadow grass.

  The moon rose casting a pale light on the woods. Fear ebbed away and the calm night made it hard to stay awake. His eyes began to droop and he stretched. When he yawned, his breath showed in the moonlight. The moon inched up the star filled sky. He nodded, but a rustling jerked him awake.

  His fingers closed over the ax handle. There was movement in the woods. He peered into the shadows. Something was there. He shifted into a crouch. A patch of darkness drifted out of the woods. The shadow raised its head and he saw antlers. The deer passed silently through the meadow. Liam leaned back and closed his eyes in relief. Can’t be any goblins around for miles, he thought.

  He didn’t remember falling asleep, but suddenly jerked awake shaking the cart.

  Mica rolled over. “Trouble?” he asked. His soft voice showed no fear and reassured Liam.

  “Your turn to watch. I can’t stay awake any longer,” Liam said. As he lay down and closed his eyes he heard Mica yawn and move to the back of the cart.

  Liam had no trouble sleeping the rest of the night. He woke to the sound of Mica’s voice. He was talking gently to Little Smoky as he fed her a handful of grain and scratched behind her ears.

  Liam yawned and stretched. The morning was crisp and bright with only a few stray clouds drifting through the sky. “How far do you think it is to Yellow Finger Lake?” he asked.

  Mica led Little Smoky back to the cart. “We should be there before nightfall, barring any more adventures.” He hitched the donkey to the cart. With gentle movements he smoothed the traces, ensuring the harness would lay flat and not rub against her hide. “Lit' Smoky's had her breakfast. Check the cart. There must be something there we can eat on the trail. We're still too close to the goblin cave for my liking.”

  Liam opened the seat and pulled out the sack. As he opened it, the smell of fresh bread flooded out. Someone had replaced last night’s leftovers with a bit of aged cheese and bread still warm from the oven. He pulled out an earthenware jug. It was warm in his hand and filled with strong, hot tea. Tucked in the bottom corner was a short round jar of strawberry jam.

  Soon the boys were headed down the road, laughing at their good fortune between mouthfuls of cheese and warm bread piled high with sweet jam. As Mica had hoped, no more adventures slowed their progress and they made good time.

  Shortly after lunch Liam felt something warm against his chest. The pendant his master had given him was responding to its twin.

  “We must be getting close,” he said as he removed the chain from around his neck. He held it at arm’s length. The pendant swung slightly, pulling to the north. The boys continued down the road watching for side trails. Within half a league the pendant pulled strongly to the north. Looking closely, they spotted a faint track leading into the woods.

  Mica pulled back on the reins. “Doesn’t look to be much of a trail,” he said.

  Liam jumped down from the cart. Holding the pendant out in front of him, he walked a little farther down the road. The pendant pointed back towards the trail.

  He called back to Mica and grinned. “This must be the way.” He was bored with just riding down the road. “We must be getting close.”

  With a worried scowl Mica turned the cart off the road and Liam climbed aboard. “Hope we don’t get stuck or have to turn the cart around on this narrow excuse of a trail, “ Mica grumbled. “I sure hope your master knows what he’s doing.”

  Mica skillfully guided the cart along the faint track as it wound its way through the woods, bouncing along over rocks and tree roots. The pendant pulled harder on the chain as they made their way deeper into the woods. On and on they went. The afternoon grew old, but the trees pressed tight against the trail and offered no place to camp.

  Liam was starting to get worried. Maybe something was wrong with the magic that bound the pendant, or maybe someone had moved its twin and this was the wrong trail. He looked over at Mica, his wide brimmed hat was tilted back and his eyes squinted in concentration. Mica had not wanted to take this trail but had trusted his decision. He wondered if he should share his fears with Mica. The boys rode on in silence for another league. Liam was about to admit that maybe he had made a mistake when he noticed a break in the trees ahead. The trail climbed one last small hill and ended.

  “Whoa girl.” Mica stopped the cart at the top of the rise.

  Liam stood on the seat and stretched up on his toes in order to get a better view. Sunlight hitting the trees below cast long shadows a
cross a pleasant meadow. The land sloped gently down to the sandy shore of a lake. Near the shore the sun glistened off clear blue ripples. Farther out the water changed to deepest blue. A slight breeze brushed his face with the fragrance of the wild flowers that dappled the meadow. Morning glory vines climbed the trees and spilled into the woods.

  “This is truly a kingly sight,” Mica said as he tipped his hat to shade his eyes. “It's easy to see why he'd want a door here.”

  Liam looked down at the pendant he was holding. The chain stretched towards a small outcrop of rock near the meadow's edge. He flopped down onto the seat and pointed. “Looks like over near the rocks is where he wants his door.”

  Mica snapped the reins and guided the cart across the meadow, following the swing of the pendant.

  “Here we are,” said Liam and he jumped off the cart. “And here is the other pendant.” Reaching out he picked the second pendant off the rock wall where it had been hanging. Mica jumped off the cart and wrapped Smoky’s reins around a convenient bush. Liam fished out the silver box the Doormaster had given him and dropped both pendants inside. “We won’t be needing these any longer,” he said.

  Together they slid the door out of its hidden compartment and carried it to the rock face, placing it under an overhanging ledge.

  Liam stepped back and considered the placement. “Once it is installed, it will be almost invisible.”

  Mica nodded. “Good. Let’s eat.”

  They moved the cart down near the lake and Mica unhitched Little Smoky while Liam kindled a fire and spread out their dinner.

  The boys were quiet during their late meal, each one thinking of the events of the last few days. When they were done, Liam collected the bowls. Pulling up the cart seat he placed the dirty dishes inside. With a smile he thought about how tired Hodekin must be by now of cleaning up after them.

  Looking out across the lake he noticed five white geese swimming towards the shore in a V shape formation. Something peculiar seemed to be following them.

  “Hey Mica, is something chasing those geese?”

  Mica stood up and shaded his eyes and squinted hard. “Not at all sure.” Liam noticed he moved closer to the tree where his bow hung.

  The geese swam closer. In their wake Liam could see a small brightly painted boat. The setting sun glinted off silver cords attached to the geese. A little man sat on a raised seat in the bow. With musical chirps on a silver whistle, he directed the geese onto shore. They waddled up the bank pulling the boat behind them. As it left the water the little man braced his feet and heaved back on a lever. Decorative blue spirals on the sides dropped down to become wheels, transforming the boat into a wagon. Man and wagon bounced merrily up the hill behind the geese.

  The little man set the brake and leaped from the wagon. Counting his huge floppy hat he stood only eight inches high. Taking a moment, he adjusted his hat, straightened his jacket, and fished a large white pipe from his pocket. He sauntered to their fire and with a grand display promptly lit the pipe.

  “Greeting Young Sirs!” he said with a wave. “Dame Fortune has brought us together. You are in the presence of Miraz, Prince of Traders.”

  He had huge hands for such a small man. His left hand cradled the pipe. The bowl was carved with a scowling face. Liam gazed in wonder as glowing red eyes peered back from beneath bushy brows. The face was wreathed in smoke that flowed down over the edge of the bowl. The strange spicy aroma made Liam think of faraway places.

  Miraz strutted in front of his wagon. His short puffy white pants reached just below his knees and long stripped socks covered his skinny legs. He waved his arms sending streams of smoke and showers of glowing cinders through the air. His long red coat with rows of brass buttons billowed out around him.

  “Behold! Contained in this wagon are goods most wondrous and rare. Treasures gathered from across the kingdoms for your consideration, edification and gratification.”

  Liam stared at Miraz with his mouth slightly agape.

  “Are you trying to sell us something?” Mica asked.

  Miraz stopped pacing and stared back at Mica. “I’m a trader. The speech is part of the show, but if you’d rather skip it…” He smiled and shrugged. “I could show you my wares. If something interests you, perhaps we can arrange a trade.”

  “There's no harm in looking,” Mica said.

  The boys seated themselves on the grass. With his pipe clenched tightly in his teeth, Miraz unhitched the geese. “Off you go my pretties. Don’t stray too far.” He turned to face the boys. “These geese never listen to me. I always have to chase them down.”

  He bustled back to the wagon. With a flourish he started opening panels and drawers.

  “Now then,” he said rubbing his hands together. “What can I interest you in? Something for your lady perhaps? I have rings of brass, pearl, intricately carved wood?” They shook their heads. “Well then something for her hair. Nets of silver embedded with pearls or combs carved from shells?”

  “An apprenticeship doesn’t leave time for meeting girls,” Liam said.

  “Of course,” Miraz said. “Perhaps something for your mother? I have just the thing.” He set down the pipe, and from a carved wooden box he lifted out an Abalone shell. He released the clasp and the top of the shell slowly opened. From the bottom a bush sprouted and began to grow. The branches spread out. Pink buds appeared and blossomed into dark pink roses. The flowers faded and the petals fell, carpeting the bottom. The leaves turned golden and mixed with the fallen petals. As the branches withered, the lid slowly closed, sealing with a soft click.

  Liam reached for the shell and Mica said, “Do you think that might be a bit dear for your purse?” Liam glanced at Mica and dropped his hand.

  “Worry not, if you’re short on coins. Possibly something in trade,” Miraz said as he slipped the box back into its drawer.

  “We have little to trade,” Mica said softly. “We are simple men with simple needs.”

  “Don’t be too hasty young sirs. Things that others hold dear may be easier for you to acquire than you think.” Miraz cast a practiced eye over Mica. “You sir have the look of one who is comfortable trekking over hill and under tree.” With a purposeful stride he moved to the back of the wagon, threw open a set of double doors, and vanished inside. His voice was faint and seemed to echo from the back of the wagon. “I pray your indulgence; I won’t be but a moment.”

  Mica gave Liam a wide-eyed look, but didn’t say anything.

  “No wonder his wagon can hold so many wonders,” Liam whispered. “The doors must all be linked to a warehouse somewhere.”

  A moment later Miraz backed out of the wagon still talking. In his arms he carried a package wrapped in silver netting. The package bobbed toward them and they caught glimpses of the little man’s face as he peered around one side and then the other trying to see where he was going.

  “Here it is! Take a look at this.” Miraz said.

  Mica held out his hand and Miraz let the box fall onto his palm. With a flourish he whipped off the net revealing a brown box about four inches square. A scattering of painted leaves covered the lid.

  Mica opened it carefully. Inside were seven loose sheets of stiff paper. Engraved on each card was an exquisite illustration of a plant or toadstool. At the bottom was printed the plant’s name, an explanation of where it grew, and how to harvest it.

  Mica thumbed through the pages and raised one eyebrow. “Very nice, but it seems a little short.”

  “Aha, right you are. But as you may have noticed, short is my specialty!” Mica blushed slightly and Miraz carried on with a laugh. “The reason for only seven pages is simple. What you have in your hand is not an unfinished book or a short deck of cards, but a list. Or a catalog if you wish, of things I want and I’m willing to trade for. They are ingredients I use in my salves and ointments. The most valuable are on top. Perhaps you have seen some of these on your travels already?”

  Mica looked at the pictures again. “Perh
aps. But I would need to compare plants to the pictures to be sure.”

  “Excellent! Then take it with you. I have other copies. Just be sure to check the box often. It is linked to a master box. The cards change with my needs.”

  Mica closed the little box and placed it in his belt pouch. “Once I have gathered what you need, how do I find you?”

  “Admirable question,” Miraz said with a wave of his hand. Just let one of my regular customers know, and they will pass the information on to me.” He stroked his chin. “Let me see. There is a baker not far from here. He lives in Fairgrove. Drindle is his name. He will not only be able to pass me a message but will know how to preserve the herbs until I can collect them. Now let’s see if I can provide you with a reason to search for my herbs. Perhaps you want something practical, but still unique.” He set before them a small armored man made of metal.

  “A very handsome soldier. What can it defend?” Mica asked.

  “He will defend anything you say…perhaps your garden is overrun with birds.” He placed a small metal disk on the ground next to the solider. Immediately the soldier started marching in ever widening circles around the disk. Miraz drew a handkerchief from his sleeve and waved it in the soldier’s path. Banishing a spear, the soldier attacked the cloth. “Very alarming if the cloth were a bird.” Miraz removed the cloth and the solider resumed his patrol around the disk.

  Mica frowned. “Birds need to eat too.”

  “Ah, an animal lover.” He scooped up the soldier and disk and whipped out a tray of whistles. “Calls for animals of all kinds. Birds, squirrel, moose, even fish.” Mica leaned forward. Miraz handed him a small wooden one carved like a dove. Tentatively Mica put it to his mouth and blew. It made a soft cooing noise. From the woods came a chorus of answering coos. A look of wonder lit Mica’s face and then quickly faded. Liam watched as Mica reluctantly put it back. He knew Mica couldn’t afford it. Miraz held up a long slender whistle. “Even works on fish. You could throw away your line and pole.” Mica sadly shook his head.

  Miraz brought out other wares. He showed them vials of spices, boxes of seeds, and elixirs for curing everything from warts to wrinkles. There was a tiny sewing box with miniature scissors and needles made especially for sprites. There were buttons of every size, shape, and made from everything you could imagine. There was even an egg that glowed brightly in the dark.

  Miraz puffed on his pipe. He paced up and down muttering. “What else? What haven’t I shown them?”

  Liam stared fascinated as a stream of smoke rolled down off the pipe. He couldn’t understand why the smoke wasn’t rising. The eyes in the bowl glowed bright red. Then Liam saw the lips on the pipe move.

  “Sea shells.” It was a raspy whisper.

  Liam rubbed his eyes, not sure of what he’d seen.

  Miraz said, “Yes, sea shells.” He turned back to the wagon and brought out a pair of matching sea shells. “A simple amusement. A toy the sea nymphs use to entertain their children.”

  “They play with shells?” Liam asked, still looking at the pipe.

  “Let me demonstrate,” Miraz said. “Have you ever placed a shell to your ear and heard the sea?” He handed one of the shells to Liam. “Fasten the clip behind your ear.”

  Liam twisted the clip until the small shell nestled snugly into his ear. “I don’t hear anything,” he said.

  Miraz tucked the other shell under his arm and carried it a few steps away. He balanced it on a rock and leaned over. When he put his face in the shell it covered everything but his hat.

  In his ear Liam heard Miraz whisper, “Such a small item to hold such an extraordinary wonder, is it not?”

  Surprised, Liam nodded. “They’re bonded,” he said to Mica as Miraz walked back. The Doormaster had never spoken of being able to bond objects for sound. “Who bonds the shells?”

  Miraz turned a keen eye on Liam. “How remarkably perceptive.” One bushy eyebrow disappeared under the brim of his hat. “You are familiar with the craft?”

  Liam gave him a hesitant grin. “I’m a junior apprentice to a Doormaster.”

  Miraz nodded thoughtfully. “It is similar, but this bond occurs naturally. All shells are bonded. The trick is simply to find the pair that makes a set. Anyone who has placed a shell to his ear and heard the sea is merely listening to its bonded mate.”

  Miraz handed the shell to Mica. “Would you like to try the sea nymph’s toy?”

  Liam and Mica played with the shells trying them at different distances and even at a whisper. Finally Liam had to ask, “What price would you ask for these?”

  “Perhaps, since you are apprenticed in the bonding trade, we could strike a bargain? My geese are quite loyal, but tend to wander overnight. By chance could you suggest something that would assist me in locating them in the mornings?”

  Liam tried to think of something that would allow him to keep the shells. He remembered the way the Doormaster's pendants led him to the right location for the door.

  Thinking out loud he said, “I can form an attraction bond between objects, but how would a goose carry anything?”

  Miraz said, “If you can form a bond between simple iron rings, then banding geese is a simple matter. It has been done for years.”

  “That is certainly possible. With the materials I have with me, I could make a link that would hold up for a league or two.”

  “That should be sufficient.”

  “I will need two rings for each goose. One you will place on the goose. If you suspend the second from a chain, it will swing in the direction of its bonded mate.”

  “Excellent,” Miraz cried. “I will supply the rings. If you create the link, the shells are yours.”

  “Done,” Liam said. “Bring me the rings and tomorrow I will link them.”

  “Splendid! Let us celebrate our agreement.” From the back of the wagon he produced a tiny jug and thimble sized glasses.

  As Miraz carefully poured the drinks, Mica gave Liam a questioning look. Liam shrugged, held up the tiny glass and mouthed, “How bad can it be?”

  The liquid was thick like honey, smelled like nectar, and its touch on the tongue was as sweet as a smile.

  Miraz sat on a step protruding from the wagon. With his pipe in one hand and his drink in the other, he stretched out his legs. Turning his feet one way and then the other he examined his boots in the firelight. “So, what brings you gentlefolk here to the woods?”

  Mica spoke up quickly before Liam could answer. “There's a fellow out here that needs our help with some building he's doing.”

  “Must be a lot of that going on in these woods,” Miraz said as he brushed a smudge of dirt off one toe. “Someone’s also building on the other side of the lake.” He tipped back his head and drained his glass.

  The embers in the pipe glowed. Its eyes opened and in a raspy whisper it said, “Just a door.”

  Miraz chuckled. “Yes…just a door. Blundering dunderhead never got any further. It’s been there for months. The thing is enormous.”

  Mica looked at Liam and raised an eyebrow. The master never mentioned another door out here, Liam thought. He was glad his door was hidden in the shadows of the overhanging rock. The fewer people who knew the location of a magic door the better. He needed to change the subject.

  “The rings,” he began. “Could I see the rings I’ll be enchanting?” he asked.

  Miraz looked up. “What’s that you say? Oh, the rings. Yes, yes, of course.”

  He labored to his feet and tugged his jacket into place. Pulling a drawer, he picked out ten iron bands and handed them to Liam. “Will these be to your liking?”

  Liam glanced down at the rings. Anything not silver would do. “Yes, these will be fine. I will have them for you early tomorrow.”

  “Wonderful,” Miraz said. “That will fit well with my plans.”

  The pipe steamed. Words flowed slowly like the smoke that drifted from the bowl. “Farrr...to travel.”

  “Right you are my faithful
companion,” Miraz said. He gathered the glasses. “Until tomorrow good gentlefolk.” He bowed low and ducked through the door, a stream of smoke trailing behind him.

  “Morning comes early,” Mica said. “If you plan to link those rings before breakfast, we’d best get some sleep.”