I was suddenly listening closely. “Then all the other apprentices live with Master Gindast?”
She gave me a look of amazement. “Of course they do! And he keeps them on a tight leash, which perhaps Hap would benefit from—but there, you are his father, I suppose you would know best about that.”
“He has never needed one before,” I observed mildly.
“Well, that was when you lived in the country. And there were no taverns or young women about within hailing.”
“Well . . . yes. But I had not considered that he might be expected to live in his master’s house.”
“The apprentices’ quarters are behind Master Gindast’s workshop. It makes it easy for them to rise, wash, eat, and be at work by dawn. Did you not board with your master?”
At that, I supposed that I had. I had just never perceived it that way. “I was never formally apprenticed,” I lied casually. “So all of this is new. I had assumed I had to provide Hap’s room and board while he was taught. Which is why I brought this with me.” I opened my pouch and spilled coins on her table.
And there they lay in a heap between us, and suddenly I felt awkward. Would she think this was intended as payment for something else?
She stared at me silently for a moment, and then said, “Tom, I’ve scarcely touched what you sent down before. How much do you think it costs to feed a boy?”
I managed an apologetic shrug. “Another town thing that I don’t know. At home, we raised what we needed, or hunted for it. I know Hap eats a great deal after a day’s work. I had assumed it would be expensive to feed him.” Chade must have arranged for a purse to be sent to her. I had no idea how much it had contained.
“Well. When I need more, I’ll tell you. The use of the pony and cart has meant a great deal to my niece. It’s something she has always wanted but you know how hard it is to set aside coin for something like that.”
“You are more than welcome to that. As Hap told you, it is much better for Clover to move about than to be stabled constantly. Oh. Feed for the pony.”
“That’s easy enough for us to come by, and it seems only fair that we provide for an animal we use.” She paused, and glanced about us. “Then you’ll see Hap today?”
“Of course. It’s why I came to town today.” I began to stack the coins, preparatory to returning them to my pouch. It felt awkward.
“I see. So that was why you came by here,” she observed, but she smiled teasingly as she said it. “Well, then. I’ll let you be on your way.”
And it suddenly dawned on me that she was letting me know it was time for me to leave. I chinked the coins into my purse again and stood. “Well. Thank you for the tea,” I said and then halted. She laughed aloud at me and my cheeks burned but I managed to smile. She made me feel young and foolish, at a disadvantage to her. I did not see why that should be so, but I knew I did not care for it. “Well. I had best go see Hap.”
“You do that,” she agreed, and handed me my cloak. Then I had to stop and get my boots on. I had just finished that when there was a rap at her door. “A moment!” Jinna called, and then I was exiting, nodding to her customer in passing. It was a young man with an anxious expression on his face. He sketched a bow to me and then hastened inside. The door shut on the sound of Jinna greeting him, and I was alone once more in the windy street.
I trudged off to Gindast’s shop. The day grew colder as I walked, and I began to smell snow in the air. Summer had lingered late, but now winter would have her way. Looking up at the sky, I decided it would be a heavy fall. It woke mixed feelings in me. A few months ago, such a sight would have made me check my woodstack, and do a final, critical consideration of what I had gathered for the winter. Now the Farseer throne provided for me. I no longer had to consider my own well-being, only that of the reign. The harness still sat uncomfortably on my shoulders.
Gindast was well known in Buckkeep Town and I had no difficulty finding his shop. His signboard was elaborately carved and framed, as if to be sure his skill were properly displayed. The front of his building held a cozy sitting room, with comfortable chairs and a large table. A fire fueled with scraps of well-dried wood burned hotly in the hearth. Several pieces of his finest work were displayed in the room for the perusal of potential customers. The fellow in charge of this room listened to my request, then waved me on through to the shop.
This was a barn of a structure, with a number of projects in various stages of completion. An immense bedstead squatted next to a series of fragrant cedar chests emblazoned with someone’s owl sigil. A journeyman knelt, putting stain on the owls. Gindast was not in his shop. He had ridden out with three of his journeymen to Lord Scyther’s manor, to take measurements and consult over the construction of an elaborate mantel, with chairs and tables to match. One of his senior journeymen, a man not much younger than myself, allowed that I could speak with Hap for a time. He also gravely suggested that I might wish to call again, to make an appointment with Master Gindast to discuss my boy’s progress. The journeyman made such a meeting sound ominous.
