Fletcher by AJ Adams

Author:AJ Adams
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ellen Whyte
Published: 2021-04-20T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen: Lind

After we made up, life became really, really interesting. I bounced out of bed in the morning and practiced with the bow while Wolf and Ware went out together. Then breakfast, a little housework, and then it was workshop time.

Fletching was one discovery after another. I loved every single second of it, from stripping bark and drying the wood to attaching the feathers. Ware began to teach me smithing, too.

“This is a portable Magnus,” he told me. “It’s named after the volcano in the eastern continent.”

“That’s real? There are fire mountains?”

“Yes, there are.” Ware was smiling. “I’ll tell you about my travels there later. For now, watch how the metal is heated and then hammered into thin sheets.” He handed me the hammer. “Now you do it.”

I’ve never liked work, except for maybe tightrope walking, but working for Ware was different. It wasn’t just the fun of learning new skills; every hour, every second felt like I was closer to freedom.

The price was that I had to act the perfect thrall—in public, anyway—but it was easy enough because I didn’t have to mean it. As long as I pretended to be meek, Ware was okay. So I sirred him when people were close, and when we were in private I didn’t bother.

We spent a lot of time together in the workshop, mostly silently, but sometimes Ware would talk. I loved his travel stories because he had a gift for making faraway places come alive, but he had the bad habit of lecturing me on thrall manners.

One morning, when he was going on about how respect keeps the community together, I didn’t say anything, but I got up and made my best curtsy to him in a sarcastic way. As I’d hoped, it shut him up.

“Lind, you have the soul of a revolutionary,” Ware sighed. “How on earth did you survive this long?”

“My pigs weren’t bright like you. They didn’t manage me; they just sold me when I pissed them off.”

“I can see why. It’s awfully tempting.”

It didn’t stop the lectures, but knowing I could stop him whenever it got too much made them bearable.

Also, I enjoyed Ware’s cool, sarcastic sense of humour, and it helped that he was easy to look after. He was quiet and self-sufficient, not expecting me to wait on him hand and foot.

For a Llanfaes man, Ware was remarkably calm and controlled. That black rage surfaced every now and again, but it had little to do with me, or at least Ware didn’t take it out on me, so I could ignore it.

The more I got to know the fletcher, the better we got along. Frankly, I got back to managing him a little again.

Like that morning when he was out with Wolf and the guards at the gate were hanging about, watching me muck out Wolf’s stall and then practice my archery.

“Hey you!” Thomas, a tall guard with a dented helmet yelled at me, “Bring me a mug of water, wench.”

“Get your own!” I yelled back.

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