Wizard of Jatte by Rowan Erlking (ereader ebook .TXT) 📖

strong ebony horses drew a covered carriage of shining wood engraved with ornate detail, the wheels digging into the ruts of the road as it hurried by. It actually had glass windows, frosted and etched with curtains with molding around every corner and edge. The driver up top wore a smart suit coat of fine tweed, and behind was a footman in similar attire.

“So elegant,” Doreen murmured.

Milrina nodded.

Theissen watched, but he noticed a slightly sick smell coming from the inside the elegant carriage. He frowned.

After that several other horse-drawn carts and riders in the same livery charged down the road, all hurrying with purposeful intent towards the village center. Another horse drawn flat rocked and rolled after several men in plain clothes on horseback. All the uncovered carriages were empty.

“Who do you suppose that was?” Doreen said, venturing out into the road once the entourage had passed.

“Probably a dignitary from a large city,” a neighbor’s wife said, leaning on her fence rail, also watching.

“Did you see his carriage?” Another neighbor crossed the road to greet her.

“I know, so fine!”

“Hello! What was that that just passed by?” the miller’s wife came out from a neighbor’s yard.

“A rich buyer, I think,” another called over.

They all gathered together like feeding chickens, picking and bowing their heads as they ensued in the usual village gossip. Milrina and Doreen both looked like they wanted to join the flock, longing to stop in and listen.

Theissen let out a sigh then trudged up the hill alone. “I’ll let Mom know you are going to be late.”

Doreen stuck her tongue out at him. “I’ll be there. And don’t get in the way of the preparations for my budding ceremony.”

He merely gave her a look of distain. “Act your age.”

She stuck up her nose as she strutted into the group of women. Milrina cast him one mournful look before joining her.

Theissen almost walked away, but not before grinning slyly with a peek at Doreen’s dress. He didn’t always need to touch it to change its color. It was just easier when he did touch it. A swirl formed on her back transforming into a face shaped like one of his stone men. Of course she’d be livid when she got home, but Theissen didn’t care. Ever since Alania got married, Doreen had become a bossy know-it-all. This new event only made her more insufferable.

Walking home, Theissen heard everyone talking about the passing convoy. So far no one had heard or recognized who the wealthy owner was, however each one had a guess as to his purpose in their large village.

“I think he is here to visit the southern shore. This is the most respectable place to stop. There aren’t any good inns south of here you know.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. There is a perfectly good inn at the tip of the peninsula. He is obviously here for trade.”

“He did bring all those empty carriages. Undoubtedly he will be bringing back much merchandise. What a boon that will be for our village!”

A boon indeed. Theissen ran home to tell his father. If they were to do any business with this wealthy buyer at all, they had better make their shop one that he would not cringe at.

 

Not even into the afternoon, gossip spread all over town as to whose services the rich was soliciting. First and foremost, the Innkeepers were getting excellent business. The Weavers also. When Theissen crossed the village center just returning from an errand his father sent him on, he noticed Lonse walking with an elegant looking stranger down the road, bowing once on the curb to him as if ready to lick the man’s boots.

“Thank you. We will be expecting him,” Lonse said to the man.

 The man gave a stiff nod and clicked his highly polished boots together as he stepped off the covered walkway into the road towards a fancied up rider with livery too fine to ever belong to anything on the West Coast, obviously one of the company that had just ridden in.

“Nah! Hey Carpenterson! Eat your heart out! We got a contract with the nobleman!” Lonse cupped his hands around his mouth to make sure Theissen had heard him.

Theissen merely tilted his head to shrug it off, but he saw the stiff looking stranger turn his head with a jerk to stare right at him. Then the man gave a recognizing nod to confirm a thought that came to him. He walked straight for Theissen.

“A Carpenterson of Lumen Village?” the man said.

Theissen nodded once watching Lonse groan to himself and undoubtedly wishing he hadn’t spoken so soon.

“Excellent. I thought you were. My master seeks business with your family. I wish to speak with your father. You will direct me that way.”

“I am going that way, anyway,” Theissen replied, raising his eyebrows at how easily this man ordered people about. “You can follow me if you wish.”

To that, the man marched over with brisk haste, almost as if annoyed. “Do you know who I am?”

Theissen shook his head though he guessed the man was one of the servants to the wealthy owner of that procession he saw earlier.

“Then let me correct your behavior before you humiliate yourself again.” The man’s voice had bite to it. “I am the steward to Lord Baron Kirsch Rinchant Persillan Landownerson, the most powerful and wealthy land owner and businessman in Jatte, and it would be advised that you do not act so flippantly when dealing with me.”

But somehow Theissen was not impressed. The man could see it.

“I can make or break your father’s business by what I report to my master.”

That got Theissen’s attention. He looked startled. “Why would you do that?”

The steward smiled. “It is nature of power to be exercised by those who hold it.”

But Theissen slowly shook his head with a grave look.  “Not from my experience. Power is something that should be kept under control, not used lightly.”

It the steward’s turn to look confused, but he did not have opportunity to voice it. They had reached their yard where Theissen waved to his brother Kolbran as he opened the front gate, calling out.

“Is Dad in the shop?”

Kolbran stared at the steward, almost dropping the hand broom he had just fetched from the wall. “Who’s that?”

“A steward of a lord baron. He wants to do business with Dad.”

The steward frowned at Theissen. “You know, you ought to give your elders more respect than you do. And be warned now, my master does not take kindly to flippancy.”

Theissen merely made a face and crossed into the yard towards the carpenter shop.

Kolbran called in through the door. The carpenter came out. Dusting off his work apron, he smiled at the steward. “Hello? Come in. Come in, please.”

Smiling with more satisfaction, the steward entered into the yard. Theissen followed, still looking unimpressed regardless of the conversation they just had.

The steward extended his hand to the carpenter, smiling somewhat. “So you are the carpenter of Lumen Village? I have heard much of your fame.”

“Fame?” The carpenter took the steward’s hand and shook it. “Where from? Most of my buyers are coastal people. You look more like an inlander.”

“Well spotted,” the steward said, giving a slight nod.

The carpenter waved for Theissen to go into the shop to continue the work he had been on before he had been sent on his errand. It was obvious his son had been successful in his delivery. Theissen obeyed without another word.

Watching Theissen also, the steward remarked with a chastening look, “You had better watch that boy of yours. He has a mouth that may get him into trouble.”

A small laugh and a nod broke from the carpenter’s business like manner. “Yes. I’m afraid it already has. I’ll talk with him.”

“I mean this sincerely. The boy actually took to lecturing me,” the steward said.

His curiosity peaked, the carpenter asked, glancing back at Theissen, “Really? What about?”

“It doesn’t matter. You must simply teach to him to curb those tendencies.” The steward walked toward the carpentry shop. The carpenter followed and both of them entered in.

A somewhat critical scanning eye from the steward took in the room with a sweep. He noticed Kolbran working on a simple end table while Theissen had gone back to carving the molding on a vanity that they would soon set a mirror in when he was done. The steward suddenly had a flicker of honest amazement. He nodded to himself then turned to face the carpenter.

“Indeed, you really are as famed. Even you apprentices are quite skilled.”

“Famed? May I ask who is talking about me on the other side of the mountains?” The carpenter leaned against the doorframe.

The steward gave a modest nod. “Your son, Dalance Sarton Mikumberick Carpenterson of the city of Serjiev.”

“Yes,” the carpenter said with a smirk. “I heard he settled there. He doesn’t write much, though. Did he look well?”

With annoyance, the steward nodded. “Fairly.”

Then the steward turned and marched out the door. He stopped in the yard and turned. “My lord and master will come here later tomorrow at his leisure. You had better have your shop swept and cleaned. He dislikes even a speck of dust on furniture.”

“This is a working shop, sir. We have several orders that we must fill soon. I cannot stop work for just one man,” the carpenter said.

The steward lifted his head as if doubly shocked to find the carpenter as cheeky as Theissen was. “Let me remind you that my master is a lord baron.”

The carpenter nodded. “And I do business with lord barons. Most of those furniture pieces are for such men.”

Seeing now the carpenter’s view, the steward said, “But mine is the ultimate one. If you dismiss him with the same attitude as I see here, then surely you will—”

“Theissen!” Milrina dashed through the yard, dropping her basket at the steward’s feet and running in between them. She nearly tripped over a dropped table leg, staggering over to the sawhorse as she stuck out her hands.

Both carpenter and steward stared as Theissen looked up from his work to her hands with curiosity.

With a shrug, the carpenter gestured toward the gate. “My son’s fiancé. Let us continue. And do not worry. I will show your master the proper respect. But I must warn you, I am unable to close shop simply for one man. Even if he were the king himself.”

That startled the steward even more. But he was still watching Theissen and Milrina through the doorway. Her hand, he saw, was cut and bleeding. Tears rolled down her face as her words jumbled over one another through sobs. It was a noisy annoyance until he saw Theissen reach over with a calm expression, touching her palm. Before his eyes he saw the blood from her hand gather up then pulled back inside her wound, then her skin seal up as if no cut had been there. She smiled at Theissen, sobbing even more from gratitude. To that Theissen only rolled his eyes, cradling her head in his hand as he let her cry a wet spot into his shirt.

“Some power must be controlled. Not used lightly…” the steward murmured, still staring.

“What is that?” The carpenter looked toward Theissen also. Then he sighed aloud. “Oh.”

“He’s not—” The steward jerked to face the carpenter.

A similar calm, yet tired smile crossed the carpenter’s face. “Nothing bad. He’s a wizard.”

The steward stared for a moment and then blinked as if remembering words spoken to him once. Suddenly he burst out laughing. “Of course! Of course!”

The carpenter looked rightly puzzled.

Patting him on the shoulder with a much more friendly gesture, the steward let himself out the gate. “I apologize. Something your eldest said to me at last made sense. He told me that you were skilled, but that others in the shop had hands of a wizard. I never understood why it was not you he said that about. Funny.”

He walked away.

But the carpenter followed after him. “Are you going to tell your master about this? Lord barons have a way