The Young Magician

CHAPTER TWO

Samuel soon became used to the smell of the old man, who barely said a word the entire time, unless to point out some obscure landmark or announce it was time to stop and have a rest. Then they would lurch to a halt and sit by the roadside while the old man wandered around his wagon and tapped various parts of it with his smoking pipe, as if trying to discern whether or not it would soon fall apart. After a while, he would say ‘Let’s be off, lad,’ and they would crawl back up onto their seats and begin away once more.

Samuel did not know why they had to stop and rest at all, for all they were doing was sitting on their behinds while the old horse pulled them along. Most of the time, the old man did not even have hold of the reins, as the old fleabag seemed to know the way by itself. Perhaps the rest was for the horse then? It looked every bit as haggard as the old man and smelled almost as bad. The poor animal stared straight ahead all the time, even when there was no pulling to be done. Its eyes were watery and seemed dull and lifeless. Its healthy shine was faded and yellowed, much like the old man’s. Samuel felt sorry for them both.

When it began to grow dark, they slept on the roadside and ate sinewy meat that the old man boiled up in his dented, blackened pots. At first light, they would simply get up and get back on the wagon and be off again.

They passed through several villages that reminded Samuel of home in one way or another. Men loaded and unloaded wagons with fruits or vegetables or bags of grain. Women carried basketfuls or armfuls of produce. They gave Samuel and the old man barely a moment’s attention as the two of them passed slowly by atop their rickety wagon. Occasionally, a few soldiers would overtake them on horseback with their blue and gold armour glistening, their swords swinging by their sides and Samuel thought they looked quite impressive. The old man would curse and mutter as they passed and Samuel supposed he did not like them very much at all.

The only thing that never changed was that they were always heading down. Their wagon zigzagged down hill and gully, along paths and across shallow riverbeds and hour after hour the mountains crawled away from them until the various hills they descended obscured the snowy peaks altogether. With the familiar heights now gone, too, Samuel was only just starting to realise how much his world had changed.

After several days, they reached the edge of a village that just seemed to keep getting bigger and bigger, until Samuel finally realised that this must be the town of Stable Canthem, for it was much larger than anything he could imagine. Buildings rose several levels high and were made from blocks of stone, with many bearing motifs and carvings upon their walls. People seemed to come from every direction, filling the many streets that crossed and joined. It was a very busy place, indeed, and more streets and buildings lay all around in every direction as far as Samuel could see.

After voyaging deep into the town, turning many corners and crossing many streets, the wagon abruptly halted in front of a tall building.

‘Here you are,’ the old man said, still holding the reins and sucking on his pipe. ‘You go on inside now.’

Samuel grabbed his bag and leapt to the ground. The wagon started off again without another word and the old man and wagon both were immediately swallowed up by the throngs of people. Samuel looked about whilst standing nervously in front of the tall building, watching as the people and animals and vehicles passed by making all manner of noises. When nothing else happened after a time, and the busy street continued to flow past him, Samuel turned about and faced the building he had been set before, with his bag clutched firmly in his hands, and swallowed.

He was eyeing its wide door with great apprehension and wondering whether or not he should knock, when it opened and a girl of about his own age stood looking out at him. The first thing Samuel could remember thinking was that she had a fine glow, indeed.

She looked a little surprised at first and stood waiting for him to say something, until realisation crossed her face. ‘Oh, you must be Samuel,’ she said and smiled. ‘I am Jessicah. I’m very pleased to meet you.’

She curtsied politely and Samuel stood dumbfounded.

‘Ah,’ he finally managed. ‘I’m Samuel.’ And he bowed a little bow, not knowing what else to do.

The girl giggled and stepped down onto the street. She took his hand in hers and led him back inside.

‘Welcome to the Three Toads Inn,’ she said, waving her other hand grandly as they crossed the threshold and she laughed. ‘It’s a terrible name, I know, but Father likes it. I’ll go fetch him.’

She closed the door and the cacophony outside immediately dropped to a subdued hum. Dropping his hand, Jessicah disappeared through a narrow doorway on the far side of the room, leaving Samuel alone in the great room.

The first thing he noticed was that the place smelled terrible, like something sour and stale, and it made him screw up his nose. Everything was made from once-expensive timbers, but time seemed to have had its way with the place. The walls and floor were covered in holes or makeshift patches that had become permanent fixtures. Every length of timber or piece of wall was scratched, chipped or marked in some way. Small, round tables and chairs littered the floor and a long bench sat before several large barrels. Beside them, a narrow staircase led up to another level. Samuel looked up, open-mouthed, at the high beams and windows. He had never been in such a tall room before. He took a few cautious steps and began to peer up the stairs, before the sound of approaching footsteps made him take a quick step back.

A great rotund, red-faced man with blood splattered on his apron and all over his bare, hairy arms squeezed through the narrow doorway and stood before Samuel, scrutinising him.

‘So, you’re my brother’s lad?’ he said as he inspected Samuel. He peered down with bloodshot eyes. ‘Damn,’ he said, shaking his head, and he turned back to where he had come, leaving Samuel alone once more. His uncle’s voice then echoed out of the doorway, as if coming from the end of a long hall. ‘Go take care of him, will you?’ his voice instructed of someone.

A few moments later, curt footsteps sounded, before a lady, as bony as his uncle was fat, stepped from the doorway. She had jutting cheekbones and protruding collarbones and her nose stuck out like the sharp end of an axe.

‘Hello, Samuel,’ she said, looking him over with some consternation. ‘I am your Aunty Janet. How wonderful to see you.’ The words came out flat and distinctly insincere. ‘I’m so sorry about your parents. It’s a terrible tragedy what happened to them, but nevertheless, you are welcome to stay here with us. We’ll have the odd chore for you, of course, but I think you’ll fit in here nicely, soon enough. Unfortunately, there are no rooms to spare at the moment as we are terribly busy. There is some space in the barn where we can put a cot for you; just until something better makes itself available.’

Despite her attempts to sound comforting, Samuel thought how sharp and pointed her face looked. Somehow, it made Samuel think she was not very nice at all.

She took Samuel through the narrow door and down a hall past another few doors and out behind the inn. Some pigs and dogs were tied there in a muddy yard beside a small stable.

‘The pigs and dogs get the scraps and keep the burglars away,’ she explained. ‘Don’t get too close to the pigs, mind. They have quite a nasty bite.’

The barn was somewhat cleaner than the yard, with trampled straw thrown all over the ground. A few horses were penned in some of the stalls towards the back. They glanced momentarily at Samuel but then returned to staring at the ground. The smell of wet straw and dust filled Samuel’s nose and made it tickle and itch.

‘There’s a spare stall up the back,’ Aunt Janet disclosed. ‘It needs some tidying, so you had better get started. You will be minding the animals and tending to any needs of the guests. After you finish with your room, change the barn flooring and Jessicah will show you how to feed the animals.’

She then left him there, returning to the inn, while Samuel blinked and looked around. Flies buzzed around the horses and their droppings. The air was a haze of straw-dust. It did not look like a very comfortable place to live at all. He hoped he could move into the inn with them soon-tomorrow or the next day at the latest would be good.

Samuel pushed open the gate of his ‘room’ and coughed. It was filthy. A generous mound of manure was the centrepiece of the stall, while brooms and rakes and various tools hung from hooks on the wall. His stomach grumbled loudly as he hung up his humble bag, pulled down as small a shovel as he could find and began scooping up the dung and carrying it out into the yard. It was hard work, much harder than he was used to, and he was soon sweating as he struggled with the weight of the unwieldy shovel.

Once the majority of the mess was moved, he picked up a dustpan and a small hand-brush and began sweeping up the leftovers.

After a time, when he had done as much as he could to make the room more hospitable, Jessicah poked her head in. ‘Wonderful!’ she exclaimed. ‘I felt so sorry for you when Mother said you’d be staying out here, but I know you’ll manage.’

Samuel put the hand-brush down and wiped his forehead. ‘Thank you,’ he said. His eyes and nose were running from all the dust.

‘I have something for you,’ she said, stepping into the stall. To Samuel’s delight, she was carrying a hamper full of bread and fruit. ‘One of the guests ordered all this, but then got called away, so no one will miss it.’

They both squatted on the dirty floor and ate until only crumbs remained. It was perhaps the most satisfying meal Samuel could remember in all his life. Of course, he could not remember ever being hungrier in all his life, either. Afterwards, he noticed how filthy his hands were. His mother would have been so very angry to see him eat with such dirty hands, but he had been so hungry he had not even noticed.

‘Do you want to feed the horses?’ she asked as she stood and brushed away the crumbs from her dress.

Samuel nodded and she began leading him around the stable, showing how much and what to feed each horse. They all belonged to different guests in the inn. The animals were giants of shining flesh and they watched Samuel with a mix of concern and curiosity. Both Samuel and Jessicah needed stools to reach the tall animals’ backs, and Jessicah showed him how to brush their coats and keep them looking fine and healthy. They spent the afternoon like that in the barn, laughing and talking together. At first, he had been sure this place was terrible, but now, Samuel was actually enjoying himself. He had never had so much fun doing chores. At home, it was always boring and he never had help. His brothers had never made it seem like fun and his sister had never tried to help him.

‘We have to go get the water now, so I’ll show you the square,’ she said and Samuel nodded enthusiastically.

They each carried two wooden buckets out into the bustling traffic and Jessicah led the way down several streets, still filled with intriguing and strange people. In Samuel’s village, he knew everybody. Here, there were so many people, how could anyone get to know them all? It was all quite startling.

After a few more streets and a few more turns, they reached a stone well in the centre of a square. A couple of old women were drawing water and filling buckets in a rickety barrow.

‘Most inns have their own well these days, but Father says that as long as he has someone to fetch water for him, he’s not going to pay to have one dug.’

Samuel nodded and helped her pull the water up with the cold and wet chain, and fill their buckets. He admired how she carried her load so easily and, each time they returned for more, she led him down a different set of streets and explained the points of interest, such as where she saw a horse run into a house, where a strange man who paints his face and talks to himself lives and where she once saw a town guard stabbed by a thief-there had been lots of blood and it had looked awful.

They made many trips back and forth to the well but, even so, Samuel was still completely lost and doubted he would be able to find his way without Jessicah beside him.

Finally, when the large trough at the inn was full, the two of them dropped their buckets and almost collapsed in a heap. As they recovered their breath, they patted the backs of the two huge, brown, slobbering dogs that lapped at the water. Jessicah said she did not like these dogs very much. They had often tried to bite her and they had always had scabby sores on their skin. Her father had bought them for very little. On hearing about their scabby sores, Samuel stopped patting the dogs and rubbed his hands on his trousers. The pigs looked up at him and oinked questioningly from the ends of their tethers.

So far, it had been quite hard work and Jessicah said there was always a lot more to do. Samuel felt sorry for her. Then again, he felt sorry for himself, too. At home, his brothers and Sarah would do all the hard work.

‘Oh, and when you go outside, be careful of the soldiers,’ Jessicah told him. ‘Uncle says the Imperials all hate us and would beat us if they could, so you should certainly stay away from them.’

Samuel nodded again. There were so many things in this town to remember!

After a few moments of peaceful resting, Jessicah sighed and explained she had more chores to do inside and she left Samuel to finish the stables. Waiting in his stall was a thin cot and a single blanket. He moved these aside and began carrying in buckets of water with which to scrub the floor. Eventually, there was more stone than dirt visible and Samuel was content that it would do for tonight, although the smell was still ghastly.

‘Samuel!’ came an angry voice from outside.

He hurried outside to where his uncle was waiting impatiently.

‘If this is how you do things, you had better learn quick! Everything you do had better be done properly,’ he demanded, ‘not half-done like this! I want this trough filled to the brim. Now get going!’ and he clipped Samuel roughly on the side of the head. Samuel grabbed a bucket in one hand and his burning ear in the other and hurried off, wincing.

That night, as Samuel lay in his hard bed, staring at the dark roof and occasionally coughing from the dust, a soft voice called out to him, ‘Samuel?’ Jessicah entered the stable. She carried a small oil lamp and it lit the stall with a yellow light as she tiptoed in. ‘I’ve brought you a lamp, but make sure my mother and father don’t find out. It’s quite expensive and they’ll be terribly mad. I can’t stand the thought of you out here in the dark.’

Samuel nodded and thanked her and at once she was gone again. Tears began to flood down his cheeks in tiny streams as fear and insecurity washed over him. His uncle and aunty seemed so terrible and this place was horrid. He wished to be back with his mother and father and Jason and James and Lee and Sarah-but they were all dead now. He would never see them again. Samuel had seen dead animals before, lying still and limp, their eyes open and staring and covered in flies.

‘You’re a long time dead,’ Samuel had heard his father say many times. He was not sure why he had said it, but it certainly seemed true. Once something died, it was buried and was never seen again, unless it was dug up accidentally. Mother once dug up the bones of some hens when she was out hoeing in the garden. Gooey old bones. That’s all that was left of his family. Samuel wondered if Tom’s father or anyone had buried them. They had not even let Samuel go and look. Perhaps they thought it was too horrible to see. He remembered the cries and sobs of his mother, and the brutal voices of the men who had killed her. He remembered the way they had pushed into the house and struck at Father and his brothers, and how the tall man had stood in the doorway and watched on heartlessly while his men did their evil work. A new flood of tears began and Samuel wished everything awful would all just go away. He continued sobbing for a long time until sleep finally washed over his exhausted body and he fell into dreams of running and playing around his home and the comforting presence of his family, all busily doing everyday things.

In his dream, he was atop Bear Valley and the enormous brown-furred bear was there, sniffing and looking up at him. The waterfall was running like a river of flashing colour, more beautiful than Samuel could have imagined. The bear then stood up on its hind legs and stretched upwards, roaring and seeming to grow huge. It dropped back onto all four legs and it then did a thing quite strange. It bowed to him, dropping its head low as Samuel had seen his brothers and Sarah do often, mocking each other. Only this was not mocking. The bear remained genuflecting, and Samuel, for the first time, could see its healthy glow, shining as brightly as the man who had performed tricks in the village. So unusual, Samuel thought, because he had never noticed such a glow around an animal before. Its radiance grew and grew, growing brighter and brighter, until even the scintillating waterfall of the valley was dull by comparison. A loud crash sounded-a boom like thunder and all the birds and insects and frogs and other creatures in the trees suddenly began chirping and tweeting and croaking as one. Samuel clamped his hands to his ears to block out the noise and looked up towards the mountain, where an enormous leering face was looming, looking down at him with great amusement. The earth shook and Samuel lost his balance. He fell from the edge of the great stump and tumbled down, head over heels, towards the valley floor. As he rolled over and over in his dream, Samuel could hear a desperate voice calling out ‘Father! Father!’ over and over again.

With a sudden gulp of breath, Samuel woke up. His heart was beating furiously, but he kept his eyes closed and reached for the blanket, pulling it up to his chin. It was a hot night and he could feel beads of sweat running down his face, but he rolled over ever so slowly, quietly, turning away from the doorway. He strained to listen above the beating in his chest and the ringing in his ears, but the stables were awfully quiet-strangely quiet-and the thought only served to fuel his fears. Samuel lay tensed in his bed, ready to spin over and shout out with all his might to dispel the quiet-but he could not, for the greatest fear held him tightly in place: the fear that there, behind him in the doorway, someone or something quite horrible and tall was waiting, quietly watching him with a wickedly evil grin.

The first days with his uncle and aunt passed painfully slowly, with more and more tasks appearing for Samuel, until he was run ragged from dawn until late each night. His aunty had scoffed at the mention of schooling and asked what need had he of such things as writing and reading. Even at home, he would go to see Mrs Tincup twice each week for tutoring. He was not as smart as his brothers and not even a little bit as educated as Sarah, but Samuel knew much more than Tom did. Tom was always busy with his mother in the store, or with his father at their home and it left very little time for him to see Mrs Tincup. Tom never did seem to mind. In fact, he disliked any schooling, but Samuel had always felt proud when he could show his father something new he had learned.

Father had always told him that an education was important to a man, so that he could measure the results of a day’s work and read the Imperial notices when they were tacked to the village board, should he feel the need. Mother would agree when he said this, but add with a smile that news always moved faster over people’s tongues than paper. Samuel knew this to be true, for the women of the village liked to talk very much and they always knew of things long before the men.

Jessicah was being schooled occasionally by a tutor that came to the inn. She agreed to help Samuel and some evenings, when there was time, they would try reading the scraps of papers her father left around regarding his market orders and such, which was good because there were also sums and simple calculations on them. Jessicah was much better than he was and Samuel was appreciative of her company and so tried very hard to impress her. Even when he was frustrated, she was patient and considerate. Samuel never saw her in a foul mood or heard her criticise others, as her mother and father always did. She was always trying to find time to be with Samuel so they could play together for a few short moments, until, inevitably, her mother and father would call for either of them to do some chore or other. Samuel sometimes wondered what they actually did for themselves.

Samuel quickly learned it was best to avoid his aunt and uncle as much as he could and, that way, his life was much easier. They barred him from entering the inn because he always smelled terrible, and Jessicah suggested he should bathe as often as possible, which he didn’t like to do as the stable was so cold and draughty. There were public bathhouses but, of course, Samuel had no money to visit them. He could only throw water over himself on occasion and scrub his skin with the coarse, brown, smelly soap he used on the horses.

Alone in his stall, he ate the meals that Jessicah brought to him, but she was called away again almost at once. Samuel’s aunt obviously disliked her spending any time with him and his uncle always found some reason to pull or slap his ear when he could. Samuel wished he could at least have stayed with Tom and his parents. He did not understand why he had to come and stay with such terrible people. He did not understand why they were always so foul and bad-tempered towards him. Jessicah was his only comfort. If it were not for her, he thought, he would probably just lie down and die.

Samuel soon knew his way around the streets and markets and found pleasure in spending as long as possible on the occasional errands he was given. This inevitably brought on more punishment, but it was worth a few more bruises or another laborious chore for a short bout of freedom. He saw the other young boys playing games in the streets and, at times, they would let him take part. His uncle and aunt always made comments on how slow and lazy Samuel was, but their comments, so often said, had little meaning for him. If they had set an example, he would not mind, but they did little to help with the chores themselves. He soon realised that he hated them and any time he heard that some guest had crept away without paying, or some other bad thing had happened inside, he felt jubilant and laughed aloud at their misfortune.

The guests of the inn were usually rude to Samuel, too. It seemed to be the accepted way of treating stable boys and Samuel heard his uncle telling one customer to take to him with a stick if he was too slow. The patrons were often full of precise instructions regarding their horses and Samuel quickly learned when to follow them with exactness and when to ignore them altogether. He could tell that some people were fastidious and would check his work with strict scrutiny. Others were either trusting or lazy and would never know if their horses were properly fed or not.

His uncle taught him how to check the horses’ feet, shoes, teeth and general health, but the lessons were never enjoyable with the ill-tempered man and most of the jobs ranged from difficult to impossible for Samuel as he was just too small. Some of the horses were pleasant, quiet animals, while others matched the disposition of their owners-malicious, stubborn and prone to kicking.

One afternoon, long after he had lost any hope of salvation from his new existence, Samuel returned to the inn, having fetched a sizeable leg of salted ham from the butchers as he had been instructed. He had spent probably five times longer than necessary on this errand and had only returned home when he had exhausted all other possible distractions for the day.

‘Uncle,’ Samuel called out innocently from beside the kitchen door. Within moments, the door burst open and his uncle’s great hairy fist plucked up the ham, flinging it behind him onto one of the kitchen benches. Samuel immediately recognised an evil temper and turned to be off.

‘Stay right there, you little son of a bastard!’ his uncle roared and Samuel froze in his steps.

The rotund man struggled out through the kitchen door and stood over Samuel. He was sweating and stank, even to Samuel, who was criticised for his stench by strangers and locals alike on a daily basis. His uncle’s hairy arm shot out with surprising speed for such a monstrous man, and threw Samuel hard against the wall. Samuel gasped as his legs buckled underneath him.

‘You filthy little thief!’ his uncle yelled. ‘Is this the thanks I get for helping my own flesh and blood?’ Spittle was flying thick and free. Samuel stayed on all fours, not willing to get up and be struck again, hoping for the fire to burn down in his uncle’s temper. ‘I’ve been worried sick that thieves had made off with my valuables and then I find one of my best lamps hidden in your room!’

A booted foot took Samuel by surprise as it came crashing into his ribs. It made him yell and his eyes began watering, but Samuel refused to cry in front of his uncle.

‘If I catch you stealing again, the gods help me so I won’t kill you myself!’ He turned to move inside. ‘Damned brat!’ he yelled and slammed the door shut.

Samuel slowly pulled himself up and limped back to the stable. Every moment, every breath, brought a knifelike stabbing into his chest. He sat on his cot, clutching his side and wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands. He would have his revenge on both of them, he promised himself. He vowed they would regret the way they treated him and he began to imagine all the terrible things he could do to them.

‘Samuel?’ came a soft voice from the doorway, but Samuel turned away from her.

Jessicah came in and sat beside him. She put her arms around him and said nothing. Samuel’s stubbornness quickly dissipated at her touch and he began to cry in her arms.

‘Don’t worry Samuel. I’ll take care of you. It doesn’t matter. It was only a lamp. I’ll get you another.’

He rubbed his sleeve across his eyes and looked away. ‘I don’t care about it.’

She sat with him in silence while he cried out his tears. When his sobbing had slowed, she spoke softly. ‘I hear you late at night, Samuel. It’s all right to cry.’

‘I dream about them all the time,’ he said, his gaze locked on the floor. ‘I just wish so much they hadn’t died. I wish they could come back. I feel so sad, I just don’t know what I can do. I hate it here. I hate everything!’

‘Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. We can take care of each other,’ she told him, and with her beside him, Samuel felt that he had one tiny little piece of family still left in the world.

She stayed long after her mother began calling, until a tall, thin silhouette appeared in the entrance tapping its foot, forcing her to depart. If it were not for Jessicah, Samuel honestly did not know what he would do.

It was nearly a week before Samuel thought he was almost better. His chest only hurt now when he rolled on it or moved too quickly. Thankfully, he had barely seen his uncle the entire time, making sure to do all his chores quickly and without the need for being reminded. The man had appeared in the yard this morning, smiling and in good humour, and had sent Samuel to the marketplace for some spice, actually patting him fondly on the head before Samuel could dart past.

As Samuel was hurrying along, he noticed some boys playing kick-ball in the street. He was watching them from a distance when one boy broke from the others and ran over to him. He recognised the boy. They had played a few times before and his freckled, round face seemed friendly. The other children were watching on and waiting expectantly.

‘Want to play?’ the boy asked, short of breath.

‘Yes, please,’ Samuel replied with an enthusiastic nod. He was in no hurry to return to the inn and this seemed like a good enough distraction

‘Do you know how to play?’ the boy asked and again Samuel nodded.

He joined the freckle-faced boy’s team and the game began over. There were a couple of rocks spaced a few paces apart at each end of the playing area, which acted as the goal. There was a little rough play, but Samuel was not at all worried-in fact, he delighted in the rough and tumbling play. He pushed just as hard as he was pushed and whenever they tumbled on the ground and began wrestling, he laughed with pure enjoyment, joining in for all he was worth.

Samuel had a strong kick, but an awful aim and each time he booted the ball towards the goal, he felt embarrassed as his teammates had to chase it and fetch it back. One of the boys on the other team was older and considerably larger than his fellows and he obviously considered himself the champion of the game. He became enraged and swore out loud for all to hear each time anyone tried to take the ball from him. Passers-by in the square gasped and commented at the older boy’s language, but it only made the boy grin all the more. Samuel was not keen to wrestle with him as he had seen him punch others in the nose and make them cry-not at all like the fun wrestling the others enjoyed.

‘Careful,’ the freckle-faced boy, Connel, said as he ran past. ‘He’s lookin’ at you.’

Samuel looked to the rough boy, who was running his finger across his throat and pointing to him with the other. Samuel swallowed hard.

As Samuel charged to intercept the ball as it spun free, his feet were abruptly knocked from underneath him and he collided harshly with the ground, cracking his chin onto the stones. He yelled out in pain.

He could hear the big boy laughing and Samuel suddenly boiled over in a rage. In a flash, he was up on his feet. He turned to confront the bully, who grinned with glee and threw himself straight onto Samuel without hesitation.

Samuel was perhaps the more surprised of them both when he actually knocked the bully over and, after a brief moment in which they were both overcome with disbelief, they began wrestling. Samuel drew a free hand and landed a series of quick, knuckled blows on the bully’s amazed face. This was not his first tussle by any means and Samuel had been honing his skills by watching the drunkards fighting outside the various inns and alehouses around the town. The bully was stunned for a moment, but quickly recovered and rolled over on top of Samuel, holding him easily.

The other boys all gathered around and cheered as Samuel’s arms were pinned beneath him, leaving him helpless, as the big boy set about clearing his throat. With horror, Samuel realised what was about to happen and struggled frantically, kicking his legs and twisting about in vain as a large wad of thick, bubbly saliva slapped onto his face. All the boys laughed and the bully fed on their attention, laughing loudly along with them. Samuel was hoping the worst was over, but the bully was not finished quite yet.

‘This will teach you,’ he hissed and began slamming his fists into Samuel’s face and body. Samuel yelled out with each blow until the bully tired of the task and climbed back off him.

‘Now, get up!’ the bully demanded, hands on his hips and waiting impatiently.

Samuel staggered to his feet and looked to the older boy with fuzzy eyes and a buzzing head. His mouth was full of blood and his nose hurt terribly. The injury in his chest stung most of all, making his breathing painful and difficult.

‘That’s what happens to uninvited guests. If I see you again I’m gonna piss all over you!’ the bully stated with a grin and the others all hooted and laughed again. ‘Now get out of here and don’t be thinking you can join in our games, pig-boy!’

Samuel limped away, clutching his face with one hand and his chest with the other. The crowd parted with disgust-ridden faces as he made his way through, but their scornful comments passed over him without effect.

‘What have you been doing, you little monster!’ his aunty cried out when she saw him stagger into the yard. ‘Where is my spice? What a truly useless and wicked boy you are!’ she said, and turned away aghast.

Samuel ignored her ranting and shambled into the stable, pulling himself into his dusty stall and collapsing onto his cot. He cried out again as his chest burned under his weight and he had to carefully roll over onto his back where he lay for the remainder of the day. As darkness came, Jessicah appeared, shaking her head with worry.

‘Why are you always in such trouble, Samuel?’ she asked, setting down the tiny candle she carried. ‘I’ll begin to think that Mother is right about you.’

‘Don’t say that,’ Samuel replied, wincing from the pain.

‘I’m only fooling you, Samuel,’ she said. He could see her smile in the faint, flickering light.

She set about washing and cleaning Samuel’s face, humming softly to comfort him. She had a beautiful, soft voice, and she could sing like an angel when she wanted to. Samuel could barely carry a tune and was in awe of her whenever she broke into melody.

When she was done cleaning him up, she went inside and brought his dinner out to him. He was famished and managed to wolf it all down, despite his pains. If it were not for Jessicah, Samuel would surely be utterly and totally lost.

The town soon entered a period of heightened activity, with fairs and markets seemingly every second day. Samuel heard some talk of a Moon Harvest, but he was not in the mood for such things, preferring to see to his chores and keep away from other nonsense that could get him into trouble. All such things did was fill the streets with crowds and make his errands all the more difficult.

He was just carrying his water buckets on one such busy street when a hand reached out from the crowd and grasped him by the shoulder.

‘Wait one moment, young man,’ the stranger said, stepping out to tower over him, and Samuel halted nervously. ‘I noticed your little scuffle in the square some time ago and I see you’re well back on your feet.’

‘Oh?’ Samuel began hesitantly, wondering whether or not to drop his buckets and run.

‘I was impressed with your footwork. You’re a quick little nipper. You just have to learn when to cut your losses and run. It’s not often wise to take on someone twice your size.’

The man was neat and smart looking, a few years older than James. James is dead, he was forced to remind himself.

‘You know, I could use the services of a high-spirited scamp such as yourself. I have some errands that you could run for me-just when you have the spare time, mind you.’

‘I don’t often have spare time,’ Samuel informed him flatly.

‘Don’t be so eager to say no, young man.’ He then took a moment to look about the crowd before turning back to Samuel. ‘You wouldn’t want to miss out on a golden opportunity, would you, Samuel?’

‘I suppose not,’ Samuel replied with a shrug.

The man smiled at this. ‘If you can find your way to letting me know each time a certain person stays at your inn, I’ll make it worth a half-crown to you. All you have to do is come to my office on your way to the markets and let me know. It wouldn’t take you any longer or cause you any trouble-and you would be making a healthy profit for your efforts.’

‘How do you know where I live?’ Samuel asked suspiciously.

‘It’s my job to know everything that goes on in this town. That’s how I make my living. That’s why I need your help.’

That seemed fair enough. ‘Who is it, then?’ Samuel asked. ‘Who do you want me to watch for you?’ The thought of such a high reward for such a simple task was remarkable.

‘Do you know Mr Frost?’

‘Mr Frost?’ Samuel repeated. ‘He has a curly moustache and a big fat stomach. He speaks a bit funny.’

‘Yes, that’s him,’ the man confirmed with a smile. ‘What do you say? Do we have an agreement? It couldn’t cause any harm, could it? And we would both be on the receiving end of something useful.’

‘Very well,’ Samuel nodded. The fellow was right-how could it hurt?

The man looked pleased and offered his hand. Samuel set his buckets down and quickly rubbed his own on his tattered shirt to clean it; then he shook the man’s firm hand vigorously.

‘You can call me Mr Joshua,’ he said. ‘I work upstairs in the building beside the Two Tigers Merchant-house. Do you know the one?’

Samuel nodded. He could probably find it.

‘Very good,’ said the man and pressed a coin into Samuel’s palm. ‘I’ll expect to see you soon, then. Let me know when he comes and, of course,’ he added, touching his finger to his nose and winking, ‘this is just between you and me. Don’t let anyone else know about our little secret. I’ll explain everything to you eventually if our arrangement is successful but, for now, you’ll just need to trust me-just as I will trust you.’

Samuel nodded and the man promptly continued on his way, leaving Samuel to pick up his heavy buckets and hurry back to the inn with glee. After pouring the last of the water, he went to his stall and hid his crown up on a shelf under an old container. It was the first money Samuel had ever had. It seemed too good to be true. For once, something exciting was happening to him.

The day Mr Frost appeared atop his large stubborn mare, Samuel could scarcely wait to finish taking care of it and barely had the animal in its stall before he was off down the street to find Mr Joshua. He flew up the stairs and onto a balcony where several men were sitting idly about, rocking on the heels of their chairs with playing cards littering the floor between them. Their conversation halted abruptly as they spied Samuel bolt in.

Samuel’s excitement vanished. The men had cold eyes that crawled over him and left him standing nervously.

‘What do you want?’ one of them then asked, but his voice was not as horrible as Samuel had first expected.

‘Mr Joshua?’ Samuel asked sheepishly.

‘Josh!’ one called out and Mr Joshua curtly appeared from a back room, looking somewhat harried and bothered. Upon spying Samuel, his frown changed to a look of jubilation.

‘Ah, my boy!’ he called, moving to Samuel and patting him warmly on the shoulder. The men stopped watching him and one began scraping up the cards at their feet. ‘How have you been? I didn’t expect to see you so soon!’

‘Ah…very well thank you, Sir,’ Samuel stammered. ‘I just thought I would let you know that…’

‘Ah, good, good!’ Mr Joshua interrupted. ‘How happy I am to see you! But, unfortunately, I don’t have time to chit-chat just now. Now, next time you visit me, why don’t you to bring me some of that nice jam from the market?’ And he pressed a couple of coins into Samuel’s palms.

‘Um…which jam, Mr Joshua?’

‘Any jam will do-your favourite. Now be off with you until next time. Go on!’

Samuel left, bewildered, as he made down the stairs. He examined his hand to find one and a half crowns. Happy at his growing fortune, Samuel skipped down the last few stairs and trotted back home, rattling the coins within his fist as a long line of brightly garbed soldiers went marching by.

The months passed by and winter soon came and left again and the seasons seemed to flit by before Samuel could even notice them. Sometimes, as he lay in the dark, cold or tired or aching in his muscles, Samuel wondered if he would spend his whole life there in the stables of the Three Toads Inn. Resolutely, he decided that with all the money he had been saving from Mr Joshua, he would eventually be able to go out and find his fortune. He had managed to gather quite a tidy sum, for he had never spent even a single coin, except for the one time he bought a tiny handkerchief for Jessicah.

She had remarked upon it in the market and had been overjoyed when Samuel had given it to her. She had carried it ever since, keeping it tucked tightly in her pocket.

The following winter was a quiet time at the Three Toads Inn and so, on the odd pleasant day, Samuel and Jessicah would go walking down by the river and play in the fields on the other side. Upstream, the river was shallow and swift and it was wonderful fun trying to get across the smooth, round stones without falling upon their backsides and getting wet. It was on one such day as this that Samuel and Jessicah returned home to find a very angry uncle, indeed. He came striding outside when he saw them approach and had a long, thin rod in his hand. Jessicah squeezed Samuel’s hand and they walked in bravely.

‘You filthy dog!’ the big man roared, directing his fury at Samuel. ‘Get inside, Jessicah!’ he commanded. She gave Samuel a desperate glance before hurrying away inside. Samuel did not mind. He was used to the tempers of his uncle and aunt and preferred that Jessicah was not there to witness it. ‘Thief! What have you been stealing of mine?’

‘Nothing, Uncle,’ Samuel stammered, wandering what was the root of the man’s fury this time.

‘Don’t lie to me! Where did you get all that money? Such a fortune for a brat like you. Where did you get it?’

Samuel’s heart seemed to stop in place as he realised his savings had been found and, undoubtedly, plundered. ‘I’ve been doing some work for a man in the marketplace,’ Samuel tried to explain.

‘Rubbish!’ his uncle spat, bright red in the face. ‘No one would pay a fool like you for anything, and I’ve told you before not to loiter in the streets with my daughter! I’ve had it up to here with you,’ and he gestured to his neck to illustrate. He stood silent for a moment, as if trying to calm himself, before spinning about and stomping away. Samuel did not know what to do. He was filled with anger and disbelief. He knew his uncle well and knew he would never see his money again. He damned himself for not hiding it better. A pain at his sides made Samuel realise he was squeezing his hands into fists and he had to deliberately force them to relax. This time he was not sad. He was filled with pure rage and wished he could strike his uncle dead. Without a word, he ran back out into the street.

‘Samuel?’ Mr Joshua said, when he spied the boy waiting at his door. ‘What brings you here today-and looking so bothered?’

Samuel edged inside Mr Joshua’s office and stood by the tall man’s desk.

‘Come on. Open your mouth,’ Mr Joshua urged him.

‘My uncle found all my money and now he’s taken it,’ Samuel explained. ‘I don’t know what to do.’

Mr Joshua looked very thoughtful. ‘Don’t worry, lad,’ and he scruffed up Samuel’s hair playfully. ‘Difficulties like this are what life is all about. You can’t let them get you down.’ He then reached into his pocket and plonked a couple of coins on the desk before Samuel. ‘I’ve grown quite fond of you, Samuel. I know about your uncle and aunt and they aren’t the sort of people that should be responsible for good children such as you. You’ve been working reliably for me all this time. Take this money.’ And he pushed it towards Samuel. ‘I know it’s small compared to what you’ve lost, but consider it a gift of goodwill to help you through the hard times, or a bonus for all your good work if you prefer. You’re still a little young, but perhaps after a few years you can strike out on your own. For now, it’s best if you go back to your uncle’s inn and stay there. I know you don’t like it, but you don’t really have much choice. You can save up a little money again and bide your time and, before you know it, you’ll have a fat purse under your pillow once more and a little house of your own. How does that sound?’

Samuel tucked the coins into his pocket and felt much better after hearing Mr Joshua’s words. ‘Thank you, Mr Joshua.’

‘But I think it’s best if I keep your savings here from now on, Samuel, given that you’ve already lost everything once. Any time you need some money, you can and come see me. How does that sound?’

‘Oh, I can’t thank you enough, Mr Joshua!’ Samuel responded. ‘You’ve helped me so much.’

‘My pleasure, my boy! Now be off with you and don’t worry about your uncle. One day, you won’t need him or his inn. But come back tomorrow! I will have some errands for you, I’m sure.’

‘Of course!’ Samuel said, beaming with glee. ‘See you tomorrow!’ And he scampered out the door, skipping like a youthful buck once again.

Samuel continued working at the inn and helping Mr Joshua whenever he could. He learned to take his uncle’s ravings and beatings with barely a whimper, although these episodes became more frequent as Samuel vanished for longer and longer periods into the city before coming back to the inn. He learned he could get up early and do most of the feeding and cleaning before even catching sight of his uncle and aunt, and then be out until well after nightfall, when he could carry water and finish the other chores. In this way, his days became far more bearable, and he could run errands for Mr Joshua and build on his savings.

The months and seasons passed by steadily, but little else changed in the town. However, with each new set of clothes he outgrew, Samuel also grew a little fleeter of foot and a little stronger in the arm and his day-to-day life became that much easier. He could now heave the saddlery around with ease and his uncle had no need at all to step out into the stables to help him-which was exactly how both of them liked it. He could finish his chores at the Three Toads Inn with little fuss and spend the majority of his time helping Mr Joshua.

Mostly, Samuel would run messages across town to other businessmen, or take them parcels. Sometimes, he would be stopped by the town guards and they would ask him many questions and sometimes search him, but Samuel always had a ready excuse and the guards knew he worked at the Three Toads Inn, so it was a perfect pretext for running all over the town. When he did have a parcel from Mr Joshua, Samuel knew all the ways to go about the city where the guards would not find him. He was spry and as nimble as a cat and could scurry through holes and leap over fences in a flash. Samuel knew the other errand boys of Stable Canthem and they would often sit on the rooftops, throwing stones into the alleys and talking about various happenings throughout the town. They traded the secrets of Stable Canthem and all the ways to get from north to south and east to west. They passed many hours playing their own games of kick-ball in the streets and squares and markets, and Samuel also had his fair share of scuffles with friends and adversaries alike, often resulting in numerous bruises, black eyes and blood noses.

Samuel had never dared open any of Mr Joshua’s packages, but the other boys told him they were just letters, documents and sometimes items or precious things-probably stolen, so the street boys would say, but Samuel was not so sure.

Samuel told Mr Joshua everything he learned from the other boys, for he considered Mr Joshua his friend, and Mr Joshua would laugh at most of the comments he heard.

‘Don’t think poorly of me, Samuel,’ he would say. ‘Some of these stories have been exaggerated to the status of fantasy, but I must admit some are true. I’m not a thief, but neither are the men of this town saints-especially those in command. They’re all Imperials and they have little regard for those of us born of the land of Marlen. Natives like me who try to do business have a very difficult time. We have to work in secrecy, beneath the eyes of the Imperials. If our governors had their way, they would send everything of value here back to Turia. I take nothing from the poor or the needy-only the rich and pompous Imperials that no one here in Stable Canthem has any liking for.’

Samuel would nod at this. He did not really care what it was Mr Joshua did. He helped Samuel and gave him plenty of money, and Samuel liked to evade the town guards and race around with the other street boys. It gave him some excitement and was far more interesting than staying at the Three Toads Inn. More importantly, Samuel regarded his work for Mr Joshua as a means to escape his uncle and aunt. When he had enough money, he could be free of them or even start some business of his own.

Occasionally, Samuel would sit down at the small town docks and watch the riverboats gliding by on the water. They carried goods and people downstream to distant towns and cities, and Samuel dreamed of one day slipping aboard with Jessicah and disappearing from Stable Canthem forever. He had heard tales of all the wondrous places in Amandia and of all the great lands out across the ocean. He hoped he could one day be away with her and they would travel together and have great adventures and find glorious treasures. He knew it was just a dream, but Samuel had little else to think about. He kept counting his savings in his head and looking out after the boats as they slid away, wishing he was aboard one even now.

It was a cool and pleasant evening when Samuel was darting down an alley he used as a shortcut quite frequently. He turned a corner, aiming to come out in the middle of West Street, and he ran straight into a wall of flesh. He was knocked backwards and sprawled over, blinking with astonishment while he gathered his wits. Rough hands picked him up and, with sudden dread, Samuel realised he had run straight into some of the town guard. Three of them towered over him and a set of hands held him firmly.

‘So we’ve caught a street rat have we?’ the middle guard asked. Samuel knew these men well. They had chased him often and had caught and beaten many an errand boy.

‘I’m just on my way home, Sir,’ Samuel explained, bearing a smile.

‘Very well,’ the tallest guard replied. ‘We’ll just see what you have to give us first.’

Samuel swallowed. He had an envelope tucked into his shirt that was bound for Merchant Bellows and he dreaded it being discovered. They must have read his mind because, as quick as a flash, the shortest guard had his rough hands rummaging about under Samuel’s clothes.

‘What’s this?’ he exclaimed and he had the envelope out and was tearing it open without a pause. ‘I think it’s for me!’

‘Wait!’ Samuel cried. ‘That’s for my uncle!’

‘We’ll see, lad,’ the central guard grunted, keeping a firm hold of Samuel’s arm, ‘but I’ll wager it’s no more for your uncle than I’m likely to wed your wretched aunt.

The short guard was squinting as he peered over the envelope’s contents. ‘It’s a title to some land signed in the name of Merchant Bellows.’

The men all laughed.

‘Well, not nearly as much of a treasure as I’d hoped,’ the short guard said, ‘but worth a coin or two, I’m sure.’

‘I’m sure the good Merchant Bellows will be happy to have it back for a price,’ the taller guard spoke.

Samuel gulped again.

‘We’ll go see him tomorrow,’ the central guard said. ‘And now we have this brat, we’ll go get some coins from his uncle as well.’

‘Good idea,’ put in the taller guard. ‘It’s been a while since he paid us any dues.’

They dragged Samuel back across town to the Three Toads with him kicking and swinging his arms at them all the way.

‘Don’t take me back!’ he cried out, and the three men laughed as one. Townspeople giggled and sniggered at the sight and parted way as the boy was towed to his fate.

Samuel was thrown to the floor of the inn while the guards called out for his uncle. His feet barely touched the ground before he was up and running, pushing past his bewildered aunt who was coming to see who was making all the ruckus. He leapt out the kitchen door, eager to be away before his uncle learned what had happened. Jessicah was there, throwing some bread to the chickens.

‘Jessicah!’ he said, panting and heaving. ‘I’ve got to go! I’m in big trouble now. I think Uncle will kill me!’

‘Samuel, what is it?’ she asked him with obvious concern.

‘No time to explain. I’m off. I’ll come back and see you soon!’ And with that Samuel darted out into the street, narrowly avoiding being trampled by a team of oxen that was being herded along by a long-sticked shepherd boy. As he scampered away, Samuel could already hear the howls of his aunt and uncle, cursing his name in every manner possible.

Samuel ran as fast as he could to Mr Joshua’s and bounded up the stairs into the first room. As usual, the men were lounging around and they called casually for Mr Joshua on sight of the boy.

‘What have we here, Samuel? Why such a dramatic entry?’ Mr Joshua asked as he led Samuel into his office.

‘The guards caught me,’ Samuel explained. His eyes burned, but he refused to let any tears come, and he was furious and embarrassed by the urge to cry, which made him feel worse. ‘They took the letter for Merchant Bellows and told my uncle about it. My uncle will kill me if he catches me-I mean really kill me. The guards said he would have to pay them because they caught me.’

Mr Joshua sat upon his desk and thought for a few moments, stroking his clean-shaven chin.

‘Well,’ he explained, ‘I’m afraid this marks the end of our business together, Samuel. I can’t use you any more to run errands. The guards will always be looking for you to make some money for themselves. In fact, you had better lay low for a time. I’m sure Merchant Bellows will want to get his hands on you, also-he knows you well. This will cost me dearly in business, Samuel, but it’s not something I didn’t expect to happen eventually and it’s happened many times before.’ Mr Joshua walked around the circumference of the room, rubbing his chin in thought. ‘You’ve been a good lad for me, so I’ll tell you what I’ll do. Luckily enough, another opportunity of work has arisen and I have been mulling the idea over in my head for a few days now. It seems this situation has helped settle the matter. I know a man who owns another inn of sorts here in town and I know that he is currently in need of a new stablehand of your talents. It will be much better than your uncle’s work and I am sure they will treat you well. You can sleep here on my floor for tonight and tomorrow we’ll go and see about that job. But for now, I must finish some business, so you can go wait in the town for a time,’ he handed Samuel a crown, ‘and come back after dark. Remember, it’s very important that no one sees you, so go hide up on one of those rooftops of yours.’

Samuel couldn’t believe his luck. He rubbed his eyes, feeling foolish at himself for almost crying like a baby, and thanked Mr Joshua wholeheartedly.

When evening finally arrived, Samuel returned to Mr Joshua’s office, walking past the card-playing men in the first room, and was overjoyed to see some thick rugs on the floor with blankets and a pillow.

‘Sleep well, lad,’ Mr Joshua said, opening the door to leave. ‘I still have a little work to do out here, so why don’t you get some shut-eye and I’ll be back in the morning.’

With that, he closed the door. Samuel extinguished the lantern and then pushed his way into his bed of rugs, amazed by its softness and warmth. As he lay with his eyes closed, the voices beyond the door became a low buzz and he soon found himself asleep. A strange sense of calm had replaced all the horrible dread and fears of earlier in the day and he felt comforted by the reassuring words of Mr Joshua. The man was truly the first friend Samuel had found in a long time.

Samuel was surprised to be woken by Mr Joshua well after dawn.

‘Sleep in?’ Mr Joshua asked, stepping around Samuel’s bed.

‘I don’t think I’ve ever slept so well, thank you, Mr Joshua.’

‘That’s good. We both have a busy day ahead so let’s go get some breakfast together and then we’ll see about your new job.’

Samuel hopped up and folded his rugs while Mr Joshua arranged some papers on his desk. Samuel plucked up his bag and they both then went into the markets, where Mr Joshua bought them some fresh bread and fruit to breakfast upon. As they walked to the far side of town, where the buildings and houses began to thin, Mr Joshua started to explain a few things.

‘You see, Samuel, not only do I trade in goods and items but in information as well. I’m sure you realise the potential value of a good secret. Mr Frost, for example, is a close associate of mine, but he works for a group of men that don’t like me very much at all. I can’t meet Mr Frost directly, so whenever I knew he was in town, thanks to you, I could arrange to catch up with him in secret. He would usually give me some snippets of information that I could trade or sell or simply use to gain more business.’

‘I’m glad I could help, Mr Joshua, but what will you do now? How will you meet with him and do all your business?’

‘Don’t worry, Samuel,’ Mr Joshua said kindly. ‘You have done good work for me, but you are far from being the only one I have working for me. Now, we have the opportunity to do each other a favour, Samuel. I help you and you help me, Samuel-that’s the way it works. Do you understand?’

Samuel nodded.

‘As I have already told you, there is another inn here in Stable Canthem where I can get you some work, but there are certain things you must do for me while you are there. You see, this new inn is a little unusual. It’s for men who belong to a rather peculiar organisation. And if I could find out what their organisation is doing, I’d be greatly appreciative and, of course, it would help my business. So, what I want you to do is find a way to get the names of the men who stay there-there will only ever be men-and tell them to me, as well as anything you hear them say about where they are going or what they’ve been doing.’

Samuel nodded. ‘Are they Imperials, Mr Joshua?’

‘Hmm, many of them will be but some of them aren’t. Their group is certainly Imperial, so you should be careful what you say to them all the same. Now, here’s my friend, Mr Sparcock,’ Mr Joshua said as they met a man who stood idly by in the street. He was a lanky, untidy-looking character who seemed nervous of everything that caught his eye. He was holding a small bag loosely in one hand and Mr Joshua eyed the man’s appearance with some disdain. ‘Mr Sparcock will take you to the inn and help you to get the job. I cannot go, for I have other business to take care of-I’m still trying to undo some of the mess you have put me into. Mr Sparcock should do well in my place.’ He stressed that point, eyeing Mr Sparcock directly. ‘I want you to try very hard to get this job, Samuel. It’s important to me, and for you, too. Maybe it’s your only chance to get another job in this town. And I want you to call Mr Sparcock, “Uncle”. I think it will help you get the job. Can you remember that?’ Samuel nodded. ‘And can you, Mr Sparcock?’ The other man nodded back. ‘Good,’ Mr Joshua continued. ‘I wish you luck, Samuel. Oh, and please don’t come and visit me any more until I send for you, Samuel. Remember that. I don’t want the guards thinking you are still working for me.’

Samuel nodded again and followed Mr Sparcock, weaving his way through the people in the street.

‘Here’s your bag, kid,’ Mr Sparcock said, pushing the small, black bag he was holding towards Samuel.

Samuel opened the bag and peered inside. It contained a few items of clothing that Samuel could only assume were for him, judging from their size. He slung the bag over his shoulder and followed on after the lanky man.

They soon came to a high wall on the outskirts of town and Mr Sparcock shook a small bell that hung at the gates. After several minutes and several rings, a long-nosed, balding man opened the gate and examined them.

‘Yes?’ he enquired.

‘I hear you’re in need of a new stablehand,’ Mr Sparcock said in his thin voice, coughing and clearing his throat, ‘and I’m leaving town. I thought my nephew could use the work.’

The man peered at them both for a few moments, looking doubtful. ‘Come in,’ he finally said, sighing and shaking his head.

They stepped inside and found themselves in a great walled garden, with immaculately trimmed lawns, shrubs and flowerbeds. They followed a cobbled path towards the greater central building, where their host led them inside through a set of doors. They came into a study and, after offering them seats, their guide left them, disappearing back into the hall. Shortly, an older gentleman with a pleasant face and clear blue eyes came in. He was surrounded with a fine shimmering radiance, a healthy glow unlike any Samuel had seen. Some people are far healthier than others, Samuel noted, but no one in Stable Canthem had a shine as tidy as this man.

‘I am Peter Kelvin,’ the man began, sitting opposite them. His voice was slow and his words well pronounced and carefully spoken. ‘I am the caretaker of this establishment. I find it quite curious that you should know of my sudden need for a stablehand.’

‘Word gets around, Mr Kelvin,’ Sparcock explained, shifting nervously in his seat.

‘Yes. So it seems, indeed. Last night, my stableboy disappeared mysteriously and today a replacement comes knocking on my door. Very curious, indeed.’ He turned his attention to Samuel. Mr Kelvin looked as if to speak, but stopped with his mouth already half-open, as if caught by surprise. For some moments, he scrutinised Samuel with a raised eyebrow, almost seeming to stare straight through the boy. Then, he coughed and drew a handkerchief from his pocket to rub at his eyes, before continuing as before. ‘He does seem a little young. Do you have experience, young man?’

‘He does,’ Sparcock interjected. Mr Kelvin raised an eyebrow at the comment before returning his eyes towards the boy.

‘Yes, Sir,’ Samuel began. ‘I’ve worked at the Three Toads Inn for a long time now-ever since I first came to Stable Canthem.’

Mr Kelvin accepted the statement with a nod. ‘Very good. What about your parents? Where are they?’ he asked.

Samuel looked to the floor. ‘My family were all killed, so my uncle looks after me now.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that. Very well. You shall do for the time being or until my old stableboy turns up again. Kans may need to help you while you settle in. I will pay two Imperial crowns each week, board and lodging inclusive. Can you start at once?’

Samuel almost baulked on hearing the terribly low wage, but he had few other options at this point, so he had no choice but to accept.

‘I have my bag ready, Sir,’ Samuel declared, showing his bag to prove it.

‘He has his bag,’ Sparcock confirmed, nodding.

Mr Kelvin scrutinised Mr Sparcock with some contempt, his brow creased and wrinkled, before turning back to Samuel with a warm smile. ‘Very well, young man, go out to the stables and become acquainted with the place. Good day, Mr Sparcock. Thank you for your visit.’

With that they all stood and Mr Kelvin let them out.

‘Well done, lad,’ Sparcock bent over and said in a whisper. ‘Joshua will contact you when he needs you.’

Samuel nodded and wandered off to find his new workplace, while Sparcock was led by the long-nosed fellow out to the front gate.