Apprentice (The Black Mage, #2)(106)

One of the men was right beside the bush. I could hear the shuffling of feet against some of the outlying roots. I made a silent prayer to the gods that he would continue on.

"I reckon he went the other way, Jared," the man said. "There's nothing this way but brush."

"Naw, he's got to be this way."

The voices were now both coming from the same spot just above me. My pulse pounded so violently I was certain they could hear it. I refused to breathe as I waited for them to pass.

"Smells good out here," the first was saying.

"It's the blackberries, you dolt," the second man, Jared, replied. He shoved a hand in to grasp at a dark clumping of fruit and pulled it back back with a curse: "Fool thorns!"

The other man pushed past and reached in further, managing to catch a hand full of berries and my hair in the process. I didn't realize some of it had come loose from my braid, tangled in the thorns until the man yanked his fist back. As the hair ripped from my scalp an unwilling cry escaped my lips.

I slapped a hand over my mouth, but it was too late. They had heard me.

The next second flew past in a blur as the men yanked me from my den and tossed me roughly to the bare forest ground at their feet.

"Well, well," Jared drawled. "Seems your appetite has it uses, Erwan." He slapped the second man, a tall fellow with a big gut and muddy boots, on the back.

It was hard to see either of their faces as I struggled to push myself up off the ground. The bandits allowed me to draw myself onto my knees, making crude remarks and laughing as I fumbled once or twice before finally sitting upright.

"Now, boy," said Erwan. "Tell us where you and your little friend were headed."

I breathed a small sigh of relief. With all the blood and grime covering my brother's riding clothes they had mistaken me for a redheaded young man. The tunic was baggy, and though ripped at the arms, it still hid my form well.

I stayed silent, unwilling to answer for fear that my voice would reveal what my clothes did not.

"The man asked you a question," Jared growled. "Answer him."

Silence. And then the loud, resounding slap as Jared's palm struck my cheek. My face stung and bled in places the thorns had already opened.

"Now," Jared said. "I'll give you one more chance to answer before I start removing limbs." The bandit was holding a sword. It bore the familiar crest of the Crown's Army. But this man was no soldier. No man who pledged to defend Jerar and its people would dishonor the Code of Honor.

I wondered how the weapon had fallen into the outlaw's hands. Had his band cornered a lonely soldier on some deserted trail and robbed him blind, much like they were planning to do to my brother and me? Or had Jared killed him to prevent the soldier from seeking justice afterward?

There was an odd stain on the hilt, much like the rusty color of blood. Bile rose in my throat, and I forced myself to swallow it back down. In the gruffest voice I could manage, I coughed, "The Academy."

Jared's eyes glittered dangerously.

"Did he just say—"

"The Academy?" Jared nudged my face with his boot. "You an apprentice, boy?" He was studying my face closely.

The large man, Erwan, laughed loudly. "Some mage! Where's your magic?"

My face burned and I looked away.

"So you are one of the first-years, then," Jared surmised. His expression turned from interest to disgust. "The boy's no use. Just another village kid on his way to that blasted school. Fools, always thinking they have a gift when they should be doing real work instead."

I kept quiet, hoping the men would dismiss me as worthless and continue on in pursuit of the mare.

"Boy, did you travel with purse?"

Not much. Our parents had barely been able to afford the coin it had cost to lease the horses for the five-day journey as it was. Though the Academy was to provide a year of free room and board to each of its students, it still hadn't been enough to offset the labor Alex and I had provided in the apothecary.

I cringed, thinking of how much we would be setting the family back when one of those horses was never returned.

"The purse w-was in the saddlebags."

"Erwan, go find his horse," Jared ordered. As the stodgy outlaw began to take off in the general direction of the mare, the swallow-faced criminal kicked my stomach. "Get up, boy. You are going to help make camp until the others return. If you remain on good behavior, my companions and I will let you go once we have passed the night. If you try to run or any sort of trickery, I will not hesitate to use the sword."

I gingerly pulled myself up, trying not to let the man see how much it hurt to stand.

I refused to give him the satisfaction.





****





Hours later Erwan returned with my mare and a handful of logs. Shivering, I quickly obeyed Jared's orders to fetch them and build up the fire. In my condition I hadn't been able to gather more than a handful at a time, and so the flames we'd had hadn't amounted to much. It may have been a summer night, but up in the mountains encased in pine, it was hard to tell.

As I slowly arranged the wood, I strained to catch the men's conversation.

"Halseth? He still hasn't…?"

"No. Either way, he and Carl should be back within the hour."