Chapter Thirteen
Paole couldn’t believe the mess he’d made of his life in a single morning. How had he ended up with a prisoner, of all things? A slave, no less. And he couldn’t even manage to purchase an ordinary slave. No, he had to end up with a mouthy, clever, obstinate brat with all these secrets, and a determination to escape the second he had a chance to.
The smartest thing to do would be turn around and dump him in Kivnic, gold or no gold. The boy was trouble, and certainly no companion. Paole would have to watch everything he did or he’d end up with poisoned patients and spoiled medicines.
Damn the boy! Why couldn’t he be honest? Paole could forgive him not being Uemirien but not knowing if the boy was in with the slavers, or a cruel victim of circumstance, irritated him worse than a boil on the groin.
Maybe he
should
go back to Kivnic. He bit his lip, thinking. He’d just spent a fifth of what Mathias had left him, though he’d earned more in the last year. The loss of the gold stung but it wasn’t a mortal blow. The worst of it was to have spent the money and still be alone. If he sent this brat back to his possible masters, he’d have given the slavers a profit twice over and be left with nothing.
If the boy were honest, he could ask for a promise of a year, at least. More time to find an apprentice. But he couldn’t trust anything “Gaelin” said. The boy certainly had
sounded
sincere when he talked of his sisters, his friends, but Paole had known all too many people who could lie as convincingly to his face, and some were younger than this creature.
He only paid half a mind to his driving as this ridiculous problem chased around and around in his head. He didn’t
want
a slave. He didn’t want anyone to be a slave, even this boy.
“Careful!” Gaelin grabbed his hand holding the reins. “You nearly had us in a ditch then.”
Paole tugged on the reins, but Peni, clever horse that she was, had already corrected the error. He brought her to rest and put his hands over his face. “I don’t
want
this!”
“I’m sorry.”
Paole sneered. “Hah, I bet.”
“No, I am. I know you were trying to help us captives, and I hoped you could have helped the children. I’d give anything to be back in the slavers’ hands, if they could be safe. Tilin…” Paole looked over. The boy’s eyes were red. “He’s only seven. He missed his mother, his sister. He tried to be brave for me, but I abandoned him.” Gaelin bit his lip.
“Was that the child you hugged?”
“He took a whipping for me,” he whispered. “I asked a question out of turn, and they punished him because they knew that would hurt me more. Please…there must be something you can do.”
“There isn’t. Only if the king made slavery illegal, and the court’s too fond of its slaves. The slavers pay bribes, and no one wants to cut off their extra cash.”
“When I’m—” He stopped, flushing.
“When you’re…?”
“Older. When I’m older, I’ll do something.”
“Naught you can do, boy, unless you had enough gold to buy every slave in Karvis.”
“I told them to remember their clan and to go to Grekil if they were ever freed. It was all I could do.”
He sounded so credible, so moved. Paole
wanted
to believe him. He didn’t dare. “Best not to think about them,” he said roughly. “It’ll only hold you back.”
The boy shot him a startled look. “You sound like…someone I knew. Someone who died in the shipwreck. A friend.”
“Well, I’m no friend. Touching as this all is, Gaelin, I don’t trust you as far as I can throw this wagon. I’ve set down the deal. Choice is up to you. Until then, hold your tongue.”
“Yes, master.”
The flat tone held no trace of insolence. Nothing to react to or punish. Another act, of course. Paole
hated
dishonesty. Why of all the slaves he could have bought, did he end up with this boy?
His irritation grew as he discovered another difficulty keeping an unwilling prisoner brought him. His normal routine when he arrived in a town, same as Mathias’s had been, was to make a camp just outside and go in on foot with what he needed, occasionally taking Peni if he was collecting materials or supplies. Mathias had always taken Paole with him, and even sent him off to deal with patients on his own, as Mathias’s age meant he could do less than was demanded of him. But Paole couldn’t turn up to see people with a slave on a chain. Mathias had never chained him, had never needed to. Gaelin would run off as soon as Paole unleashed him.
So he was forced to drive into town, leaving the boy chained to the wagon while he visited the ironmongers for what he needed, then head out to where he planned to make camp. He had to make sure there was a tree sturdy enough for the purpose, since he didn’t dare leave the brat with easy access to the wagon and all its tools in the back.
Gaelin resisted as Paole dragged him over to the tree. “Why are you chaining me up here?” he demanded as Paole fastened the lock on the new longer chain and tested it. “What have I done now?”
“Nothing, and that’s the way I want it to stay.”
“But what if it rains, or I need to eat?”
Blast it.
Paole hadn’t considered that. “Then you’ll get wet.” The sky was clear, so there was no risk today, but it was something else to worry about. “I’ll leave you food and water.”
“Is there no task you want to set me?”
Paole had a dozen things a trustworthy apprentice could be set to, but nothing for this boy. “No, and mind your tongue.”
“I just want to be useful, master.”
Paole felt like rolling his eyes.
“Is there not even a book I could read?”
He supposed that was reasonable, though he suspected the boy’s motives. “I’ll see if there’s something. Now, no more demands, or you’ll do without food and water until tomorrow.”
“I understand, master.”
Again that flat tone which carried no obvious insult, but it still managed to sting. Perhaps it was just Paole’s guilty conscience. Better not to engage with him at all, until he felt calmer.
He left the boy with Kusa’s
Herbalist
, since it was replaceable if the brat decided to damage it, as well as the canteen of water, some fruit and dried meat. He’d buy bread in the town and other supplies. Something else to consider—he’d have to buy enough for two now. And what about the winter? He nearly groaned. He hadn’t thought this through in the least.
He did his best to lose his foul temper before he reached the town again, but Addler the healer still quirked an eyebrow at him. “Something biting you, Master Paole?”
“Not really. Just some business in Kivnic that went awry.”
“Someone said they thought you had a companion with you as you came through earlier.”
“Aye. Giving a lad a ride towards Sunik.”
Addler lifted the other eyebrow in surprise, but Paole didn’t elaborate on the lie. Let people chatter. Better that than they learned the truth.
He bought supplies, spread the word he was in town, called in on two of Mathias’s regular patients and spent time socialising, all the time with his mind half on the brat back at his camp and what mischief he might be up to. When he returned that evening, he was so wound up to expect a problem, that finding the boy quietly reading and causing no difficulty whatsoever didn’t appease his annoyance at all.
He held out his hand for the book. “Give it to me.”
The boy frowned but handed the volume over without further argument. None of the pages had been folded over, and Paole could see no food or drink stains on the cover. Normally, this would please him, but his irritation overrode everything. “I didn’t damage it.”
“I told you to mind your tongue.”
Gaelin’s mouth snapped shut. Paole instantly regretted his temper, but he couldn’t apologise to the boy because that would show weakness. Instead he put the supplies and book away, and tried to calm down. He was a wreck after a few hours owning this boy. Such a dreadful mistake he’d made.
He fetched a fresh bread roll from his new purchases, thinking to offer that instead of an apology. He found Gaelin talking to Peni and scratching her jaw. “Leave her alone.”
“I was just—”
“I said, leave her alone!”
Gaelin stepped back at his bellow, and Peni whinnied in distress. Paole closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He opened his eyes, and held out the bread. “Here. That’ll tide you over until I make supper.”
The boy took the bread and mumbled a wary “thank you”. He made sure to keep well away from Peni and from Paole both.
Paole walked off. This wouldn’t work. After he finished in town, he’d return to Kivnic and leave Gaelin there. The slavers would be gone, and the boy would have to fend for himself. He was smart enough, and there were the mysterious friends he couldn’t bring himself to tell Paole about. They could help him.
The decision made, he felt calmer. Better to put this stupidity behind him and find another way to make it through the winters. At least this way he’d only be hurting himself.
Gaelin was back under the tree when he returned, the roll already eaten. Time to make the fire and put on the beans he’d had soaking. The boy said nothing until Paole had the fire laid and the beans and dried meat cooking.
“You could leave me that kind of thing to do.”
“No thanks.”
The boy sighed. “My friend has that book. She had one she said was better though, from Uemire. Hosta’s
On Medicinals.
Do you know it?” He’d switched to Uemi to ask the question.
Paole answered in Tetu. “One, I don’t read Uemi because I was a child when I was abducted, and two, stop trying to be nice.”
The boy straightened up, haughty indignation on his pretty features. “I’m not
trying
. I’m not the one in a bad mood all the time. I enjoyed the book. Sofia used to dose her family, and us. She sometimes read to us from that book. I didn’t know what it all meant but it sounded interesting. Is that what you do? Make medicine?”
Paole knew better than to answer, but he did anyway. “Yes. I’m a healer, though not certificated. I have the Healing Sight.”
“Oh, like Raina.” The enthusiasm sounded real. “I was travelling to Grekil with her clan. I thought it was a rare gift, though.”
“It is.”
Who
was
this boy? So friendly with Uemiriens, yet possibly in league with slavers. Open about his friends, but not about his family or his destination. “Why won’t you tell me the truth?” he murmured to himself.
“Because the people who are after me will kill me, you and those who helped me, like my friends.”
Paole narrowed his eyes at the boy. “After you? Have you committed a crime?”
“Only to be born.” He said it with such bitterness, Paole could
not
believe it was fake. “I’m heir to property someone else wants. If they kill me, nothing stands in their way.”
“But then you could go to the law. The sheriffs or whatever you have in Sardelsa.”
“Not that simple. I really wish I could tell you, but Karvis is…well, the person after me has ties here.”
That made no sense. How much power could one person have? “Now you’re making it up again.”
“No, I’m not. But this is why it’s pointless to talk to you. I have trouble believing it sometimes. I’m not surprised you do.”
Paole’s determination to rid himself of this boy wavered again. What if he was telling the truth? “If I set you free, where would you go?”
“To Horches. My friend has relatives there. I’d be safe.”
“I only want the truth, Gaelin. All of it.”
“I know. If I gave you my word to work for you for three years, would you let me go after that?”
Why three years?
“Not exactly a bargain for me.”
“I’m sorry, but if I don’t return home then, my sisters will be left to suffer.”
Paole shook his head. “I gave you the deal. It’s more than most masters would offer.”
The boy grimaced. “You’re not being fair.”
“Fairer than anyone treated me at your age. Move back and keep quiet. I have things to do.”