The night whispers didn’t like the teachers. They never said so directly, but he could feel the hatred in the murmurs. Gareth said in his even toned scholarly voice, “Now there are requirements and demands that you make of me? Do you make these same of others you teach?”
The slightly shorter one questioned him again without a change in expression or tone. “Do you understand the requirement, Master Gareth?”
“I understand what you’re saying,” Gareth said, thinking that understanding and obeying are two far different things. Then an idea came to mind to voice his protest. “However, when Odd has a requirement of me, he pays me in some way. Will you do the same?”
They exchanged glances, the most reaction from his questions that he’d seen from a pair of teachers in many years. Clearly, he walked on the new intellectual ground and held in a smile from erupting.
The taller one said, “That is not a question we are prepared to respond to at this time. However, we will ask about it on your behalf.”
Gareth looked from one to the other in a new light and took his time while thinking about the response. The teachers never revealed information, unless it was part of a well-prepared lesson. However, these two had thrown open doors. They said they would ask, which implied they were subservient to someone higher up. Therefore, it must be possible to negotiate payment, in some form or fashion. If not, they would have simply said no. His mind leaped from one idea to another, following a trail of mental stepping-stones, as if crossing a shallow creek on them. If payment could be negotiated, then the amount could be bargained for, too. He said, “You will ask if you might pay me to keep myself safe?”
“Life is valuable,” the shorter one said, quoting a well-known verse.
“Amen,” the other added as if one phrase brought the other automatically.
What else will they pay me for not doing?
The shorter one said, “In review, our task today was to explain that you are not allowed to hunt for dragon eggs. Additionally, we have agreed to ask on your behalf if you might be rewarded for your cooperation. When we receive an answer, you will be informed.”
They started walking away slowly, and as if they flowed over the ground instead of walked. Their actions appeared smooth, partially because their sandaled feet were hidden by the hems of the long robes, and their bodies remained motionless and upright as they walked with small steps, with no sway to either side, like feeling their way with their toes. They walked away from the village towards Broken Bow, a small village down the valley, but not the path Gareth would take if that was his destination.
Perhaps he should follow them to see where they went, and who they spoke to.
But, as always, he decided to let them go without interference. These days he had another objective that was more important. Once he escaped from Dun Mare he had to pay for sleeping at inns and for the food he would eat. He might need a mule to ride. Or clothing. All requiring silver and copper. Once on his own, he might need to supply for himself with necessities for a year or more. The future was unclear, and what he knew was murky at best.
The revelations of the short conversation raised his spirits and gave him fodder to think about for hours. Were these two teachers more careless than others he’d met over the years or was he becoming smarter, more devious, and able to ferret additional information from their few clues? The subject required intense and uninterrupted thought, most easily achieved while performing mindless work, such as walking behind an ox and plow. His mind would be busy after eating his mid-day meal.
He looked to the fields as he strode back through the rows of freshly turned dirt. Odd and Jared were already hard at it again. Sara sat on the blanket watching and waiting for him. He gave her a cheerful wave, and she raised a hand in response. It held the mug, presumably filled with cold spring water.
Suddenly he felt thirsty, again. Thirsty and more determined than ever to steal the egg of a dragon.
CHAPTER THREE
Fields plowed and other chores completed, Gareth had left Odd’s farm waited for Faring under the shade of a sour apple tree in the late afternoon. The tree grew within sight of the village tannery, a spot where his friend was sure to appear sooner or later because it was on the path to Faring’s home. He sprawled on the late summer grass and nibbled an apple, tongue tingling with numbness from the sour juice. He ate several more, knowing too many would make his stomach ache, but also knowing the last fruit of the season was hanging on the tree. Hands clasped behind his head, he laid back and kept watch on the tannery fat the bottom of the hill for Faring, ignoring the putrid smells emanating from the place.
The warm afternoon and soft breezes worked their magic, and he drifted off to sleep, not waking until he heard harsh voices a dozen paces away. His eyes opened to find three of the workers from the tannery approaching, along with Faring’s Da, who wore an irritated expression.
Leading the way strode Bindle, a mean, cantankerous old man who feinted a kick in Gareth’s direction, before flashing a yellow-toothed grin devoid of humor. The second man, called Jessel, was Bindle’s best friend. The two seldom went anywhere alone. Jessel had beaten Gareth a dozen times in years past, usually for the pure pleasure of doing so, and to the taunts of Bindle. Two summers earlier Gareth had finally grown large enough to repay Jessel with a beating neither of them would forget. Therefore, his dislike of Gareth remained obvious.
Jessel snarled, “How’s it we work all day and you lay around and sleep the afternoon away, but you look as well-fed as us?”
Gareth continued to lay in the grass as he feigned a smile, determined to appear friendly and agreeable. “You’re right. I am both fatter, and better looking than you.”
“I say you’re just a lazy ass, sleeping away the day when you should be working like honest men.”
“Jessel, a man has got to have his beauty sleep if he expects to have all the pretties chasin’ him,” Gareth smiled, watching the man ball fists from the corner of his eye. Gareth didn’t react, other than to close his eyes again. He’s too scared to fight me these days, but he still lets his mouth take control.
Seth, the third man, the one who hadn’t spoken yet, chuckled at Gareth’s answer. “Two or three coppers in your pocket and nothing to spend them on will help you with the pretties, too.” His voice held none of the venom of the others, and he always treated Gareth fairly, even acted friendly at times.
Faring’s Da had said nothing during the verbal exchanges, but the dislike in the glare he cast in Gareth’s direction said it all. He didn’t like strangers, and he didn’t like Gareth showing up in the village at age five looking different and acting different. He had never approved of Gareth or offered friendship.
Gareth listened to the footsteps of the men crunch on the dry ground while they walked away, as he’d known they would. It was all predictable. He didn’t even smile at his small victory.
When they were out of hearing, Gareth opened his eyes and stretched, then climbed to his feet in time to see Faring trudging up the hill in his direction. Faring’s face lit up when he saw Gareth, his toothy grin appearing as it always did. “Waiting for me, are you?”
Gareth nodded, “That, and sharing a few pleasant words with your Da and the other good men he works with.”
“You be careful of Bindle. His mean streak is showing more each day. Workin’ at the tannery sometimes does that to a man. Cow dumps are better smelling than the stinking hides we suffer with all day, and a leaky roof at night is my reward. Is Odd looking for another hand on his farm? I’m ready to move on where I don’t have to work so hard.”