The Waywatcher — Trainee (Chapter 1)

Nadia clutched the piece of paper in her hand. At the top was the design of a crest, the King’s Stag on a grey and gold shield. She had seen these flyers around Alberney’s market for a week and finally decided to pick one up. With flyer in hand, she headed to the place by the docks where she knew Stuart would be waiting.

At seventeen years of age, Nadia was growing out of her childhood years into womanhood and wanting to take control of her life before her Father decided that fate for her. What this flyer offered would be it; her chance to get away and become her own person. She had never wanted to be part of the family smithing business and did not see why she should eventually take over from her father. The thoughts drove her on as she walked faster to meet with her friend. At least he understood her and she hoped to give him the incentive to follow her out of Alberney.

‘Hey Nadia,’ Stuart called out as she approached. ‘Almost thought you weren’t coming.’

‘I was a bit waylaid at the Market.’ She sat down on the grassy verge that overlooked the docks where half a dozen fishing boats were moored. Some were unloading their intake of the day’s fish.

‘How was it?’ he looked at her.

‘It was alright; I found something.’ Nadia handed him the crumpled piece of paper, then laid back against the grass. ‘I think that might be our ticket out of here.’

‘Oh, did your Father drag you down to sell swords again?’ He gave the piece of paper a puzzled look.

‘Not this time,’ she replied. ‘I was looking for something to buy.’

‘What’s this then?’ He held it in both hands staring at the letters and the crest on the front.

‘It’s a recruitment flyer for the Oakshaw Militia.’ Nadia said as she picked at a blade of grass and began twisting it in her fingers.

‘I see,’ Stuart said. ‘And why’ve you got it?’

‘Thought it would be interesting,’ Nadia nodded towards the docks. ‘I see you’ve got out of offloading the fish.’

‘Yeah, my Dad wasn’t happy I mixed up the flounders with the skate. Said I made it take twice as long as it should and need to get my eyes seeing to.’

‘Might not be a bad thing.’

‘Don’t think he could afford to get glasses an’ then he won’t have me on the boats in case they get knocked off and I lose them.’ He looked back down to the men on the dock below.

‘Looks like he’s hired hands,’ said Nadia, motioning to the men offloading the fish.

‘They’re from Nijarim,’ said Stuart. Nijarim was an island to the east outside of the King’s ruling domain. It was known for its exotic goods, beautiful women and hard-working citizens often employed for cheap labour. ‘A boatload turned up looking for work.’

‘Like I said, things are changing around here, and the old ways of family run business is fading away. Look at half the stores in the market. People want exotic stuff not our basic wares.’

‘Wasn’t your Mother from Nijarim?’ asked Stuart.

‘You know the answer to that,’ said Nadia turning her head away. Nadia had the slight tanned skin of her mother and green eyes but her hair was fair like her father’s.

‘Sorry, just thought you know, you’d be more welcoming of them.’

‘Why? Just cause my Mother happened to be one,’ Nadia sighed. ‘I don’t think anything stays the same for long but this town of ours; we won’t recognise it in a few more years.’

‘Why are you always so full of gloom?’ Stuart asked, turning back to look at her.

‘I’m not. Just being realistic that’s all. Have you seen the people vying to be the new Mayor? How many of them are Alberney born and bred?’ She stood up and brushed herself down. ‘I’ve got to head home and get some dinner. Meet you later?’

‘Sure,’ replied Stuart. Nadia saw him staring at the flyer knowing the letters wouldn’t make sense to him. He folded it up and pocketed it. He’d find someone to read it to him later.

She walked along the grass verge until the main bridge with its stone arches and wooden struts. She turned right onto it and crossed over the sea flowing beneath. The whole town sat on a collection of small archipelagos with bridges connecting them. Alberney was the tradepost of Bretaria and all kinds of goods flowed into its docks. Its market attracted visitors from the surrounding villages and further afield in the other major towns.

Nadia’s family were the oldest Blacksmiths traders of the town and used to be the only traders of that kind. Though recently the town had expanded beyond its original boundaries and was fast becoming as big as the city of Kingsburgh.

She passed a few houses and finally came to where she lived, where her father had lived all his life, and his father before him. The house was simple plaster and mortar, two stories and a thatched roof. Beside it was a large shed that contained the forge where her father worked long hours crafting armour, shields, and swords, or in the connecting stable for farrier work. He employed two young lads, one to keep the bellows going and another to feed the furnace from the supply of charcoal. Nadia had long since escaped the monotonous pushing and heaving of the long wooden arm that worked the bellows.

As she entered the house she could smell dinner cooking. The usual affair of a small piece of meat in gravy and boiled root vegetables along with a chunk of freshly baked bread. Her father was in the kitchen putting the final touches to their meal.

‘I thought you would be here to make Dinner at least,’ he said without turning to face her. He wiped his hands on his work apron that was covered with the soot from the forge’s fire before taking it off and setting it down on the back of a chair.

‘Sorry Dad, I was at the market,’ she sat down to take off her shoes.

‘I’ve had to pause work on an important order to come and do your job.’

‘My job?’ She put her bag down and washed her hands in the sink of their small kitchen.

‘I’m not saying this again, Nadia, if you don’t want to help run the business then you can at least help run the house. I can’t be working and putting food on the table every night. Not when I have an important order in.’ He picked up the two plates of food and set them on the wooden table. ‘I know you miss your Mum but you’re old enough now to start keeping house.’

‘What, so I can learn before you marry me off?’

‘Don’t get clever lass,’ he sat at the table and motioned for her to sit. Nadia dried her hands and sat down.

Putting his hands together he bowed his head. ‘Avatar, keep us and bless us and we thank you for this food. Aumen.’

‘Aumen.’ Nadia picked up her fork and began to eat. ‘What if I decided I wanted to travel to say, Whelmore?’

‘To visit your cousins?’

‘Been a while since we last went up there. I bet Francis is almost as tall as me now.’

‘Who’s going to keep the house while you’re gone?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said while eating a mouthful of vegetables. ‘Get a maid in or something.’

‘You think I’m rich?’ Her Dad picked up some bread from the table and tore off a chunk to mop up the gravy juices.

‘We’re not poor Dad,’ she waved her fork at him. ‘Just you won’t spend the money.’

‘I’m not spending your mother’s dowry on a maid. That money is meant for when you get married.’

Nadia picked up her plate of unfinished food, got up and put it by the sink. ‘I’m not marrying one of your friend’s sons or some Merchant’s son.’

‘You can’t mean to marry that Fisher’s boy?’

‘Stuart? No, he’s my friend.’ She filled the sink with water that had been boiling on the stove and began washing up the cooking pans. ‘I mean I’m not marrying anyone.’

‘Don’t be daft lass. How are you going to live unless you carry on the Business? Which you’ve made it quite clear you want no part in.’ he said picking up his apron and sorting out the tools he had brought in from the forge.

‘I think me going away for a bit will be good for both of us,’ she picked up his empty plate and put it in the sink to wash and tidied what was left on the table. She paused to look at the painting of her mother over the mantle; it was slightly faded as if time was eating away at the memory of her. Picking out some logs from the basket she put them on the smouldering fire and using the poker to bring the flames back to life.

‘I miss her too Nadia,’ said her Father as he stood behind and placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘Not a day goes by I wish it were me instead of her.’

‘Except you don’t like leaving town or going anywhere,’ she shrugged his hand off.

‘So, really mean to go to Whelmore by yourself?’ Her father asked, tying on his apron.

‘Yes,’ she replied, ‘I’ll go with one of the Mining caravans.’

‘Don’t you want to wait till Spring? You know how the Mountains can get if there’s heavy snow.’

‘I don’t want to wait till Spring,’ she said turning to hug her Dad. ‘I just need to do this.’

‘You sure I can’t persuade you otherwise?’ He hugged her back and kissed the scar on her forehead.

‘Not this time.’

He let go of her and nodded before returning to his workshop.

Nadia sat by the fire and read her book for a while before going upstairs and changing into her night-shift. She lit the candle beside her bed and got in under the blankets, she laid on her back and watched as the smoke curled upwards. She thought about what would be needed for the journey. It would be exciting, like the old times when she was younger, and the kids would bet each other to see who could do the scariest thing.

It started with jumping off the bridges. First the lower ones and then the higher ones where the drops were dangerous if the tide was out. Nadia had bested them all one day by entering one of the nearby abandoned caves where the miners used to work to find a phoenix feather. The story was that the miners had been hammering away at the lines of ore in the mountain when one of them came across the nest. The bird woke and screeched at them with a terrifying sound that echoed around the inside of the mine. The miners ran out and swore never to go in again saying it was cursed by some devilish creature. Nadia had crept into the cave during the day and found the nest empty, so she picked out a feather that was entwined in the sticks of the nest. She still has it, kept in a small trinket box beside her bed and the scar on her forehead where the Phoenix scratched at her as it flew back to its nest. After that, her friends stopped daring each other or at least her and slowly she found herself with fewer of them to hang around with. Nadia decided that tomorrow would be the start of something new and she hoped she could take Stuart along with her; after all who would want to just be a fisherman. She blew the candle out and curled up in the bed covered by layers of woollen blankets.

Nadia woke late and went downstairs to find some leftover porridge on the stove, coating the pan like cement. She re-stoked the stove and poured some fresh milk on top of the porridge. Humming to herself a little as she made plans about would be needed for the journey. It would take them three days to get to Oakshaw walking. If they travelled by boat to Kingsburgh and joined a trader’s caravan that would shave at least a day off. She wasn’t so sure about that idea so planned for walking, in which case she would need some new boots, clothes, and a couple of cloaks. The porridge began to bubble as Nadia stirred it and poured some out into a glazed clay bowl, she picked out a wooden spoon from the tray of utensils and began eating it as she walked over to the table. Nudging a chair out with her foot she sat down.

‘Finally got up then?’ Her Dad asked as he entered the house.

‘I guess,’ she said, as she licked the porridge of her spoon.

‘Just make sure you’re here to make dinner this time.’

‘I will Dad, I promise.’

Her Dad picked up some old rags from a basket on the floor and went back out to the forge.

Nadia finished off her breakfast and washed her bowl out. She dressed in brown cotton trousers and a pale blue tunic that was cinched at the waist with a green cord. She pulled on her boots and tied her long blonde hair up into a ponytail with a strip of leather. Grabbing her purse of coins, which she tied to the cord around her waist, she picked up her shoulder bag, and headed out of the front door towards the market.

The air was cool and fresh that morning and she could feel the chilling bite that meant Autumn was well on its way. Alberney lay on the south-east coast of Bretaria which gave it warm mornings but colder evenings. She enjoyed going to the docks to watch the ships coming in with their various goods being brought ashore. Folk from the outer islands came to sell their exotic wares with their unusual accents and languages. She enjoyed listening to them and trying to work out what they were saying. Sometimes she and Stuart would create a silly conversation that would have them in fits of laughter while the people walked past and gave them strange looks.

Nadia knew Stuart would be returning from Sea soon with his dad’s fishing boat and would be a few hours helping to unload their catch and sort it into the various crates ready for selling, if he didn’t mix them up again. She thought back on her mental note of what she would need for the journey and began with the stalls near the bank.

The streets were crowded with people looking at the fresh goods that had arrived. Merchants who had come to trade and take goods elsewhere in Bretaria. Mothers with their children looking for tonight’s meal or new clothes. She threaded her way through the crowd occasionally stopping to look at some rare oddity or taste a sample of sweet pastries. The market stalls were simple wooden tables with a canvas stretched above for shelter, among them were a few tents with larger stalls inside. These were held by the wealthier merchants who lived in the town. She peered in one of them and was swiftly ushered out by an attendant. Shrugging she carried on to a stall which sold woollen cloaks and knitted jumpers. The cloaks were of various lengths, some were plain, and others had a pattern embroidered into them and edged with other strips of material.

‘Anything take your fancy?’ asked the woman of the stall, she was sat on a short stool, knitting with a trail of wool dangling down to the spool beside her.

‘Something warm but nothing too fancy, a travelling cloak.’

The woman put the two knitting needles together and hauled herself up from the stool. ‘You’ll be looking at the row over there then.’ She pointed with the needles at a rail towards the back of her stall. Nadia looked over the rail of cloaks, they were thicker cotton, and some were trimmed with fur while others had hoods. She picked one out she tried it on for size.

‘How much?’ She asked.

‘That one’s just 50 silver. But they go up to 3 gold. The ones which have the fur trim be the dearer ones.’

‘And the ones with hoods?’ She took the cloak off and tied it back on to the rail.

‘They start at 80 silver.’

The woman came over and sorted the cloaks; she pushed a gap between the hooded ones and the fur trimmed.

‘If you want I can do you a fur-lined cloak. I usually bring them out closer to winter when people be feeling the cold more. Ain’t the space to have all me wares, so you just let me know what you want.’

‘I need two plain ones, with hoods,’ Nadia said. ‘But I’ve only 100 silvers.’

‘I see,’ said the woman. ‘You’re the Smith’s daughter, aren’t you?’

‘Yes, going to see my cousin in Whelmore.’ Nadia looked back at the cloaks and touched the fur edge of one of them.

‘Then you’ll be wanting something a bit warmer than plain cloaks dear,’ the woman went back to sit on her stool. ‘Perhaps we can do an old trade then?’

‘Very well, what do you need?’

‘My scissors need a good sharpening, and I could do with some new needles for sewing.’

Nadia thought for a moment then asked, ‘And in return?’

‘I’ll do you two fur-lined cloaks; it won’t be Caerovian rabbit mind.’ Nadia thought of the long-furred rabbits she had seen being sold in cages around the docks.

‘That would be great.’

Nadia thanked the woman and pulled the dulled scissors to take back to her father for sharpening later. She carried on to find the tanners and cobblers. Her boots were alright for walking around the town, but they rubbed her heels if she walked for too long and she was sure her feet had grown a little as her big toe pushed against the end of her left one. Nadia passed a stall selling bowls of fresh potato and leek soup for 50 copper pieces and noted to come back that way before it got too busy at lunch. She spotted a cobbler’s stall that she had not seen before with rows of shoes on display and an area set up for repairs. A young girl was sat down on a stool as the cobbler was fixing a new sole to her shoes and listening to the mother talking about how the girl was always running and climbing trees in them. Nadia smiled at the adventurous child who stuck her tongue out and then grinned. She looked at the boots which ranged from calf height to knee length. She checked a pair against her feet and then realised she did not know the size of Stuart’s feet. The cobbler noticing her looking at the boots called out to her.

‘Be with you shortly.’

She continued looking, checking the boots against her own but none seemed to be of similar size.

‘Those are men’s boots, lass,’ he called to her. ‘Women’s be over there.’ He nodded to the other side where boots with higher heels, laces, and buckles were lined up. Nadia took a quick glance at them and looked forlornly at the men’s boots. The Cobbler had finished repairing the child’s shoes who put them on and danced around her mum. As they left the Cobbler turned his attention to Nadia.

“Can you do these in a smaller size?” She asked.

“What you wanting men’s boots for? I’ve some nice ones here that would suit you.”

“Because I need them for travelling. Have you tried to walk far in heels that high?”

The cobbler rubbed the side of his bearded face. “Alright, not come across that request before. You got the coin to pay for it?”

“How much?” she asked.

“Well, good simple pair of boots be a gold fifty. That’s mid-height. You want them lined then that be a bit more.”

Nadia felt in her purse bag for some coins and pulled out two gold crowns.

“Lined it is then.” He held his hand out for them. “Have a seat, and I’ll take some measurements.”

She sat on the chair and took her boots off. As the Cobbler measured her feet a group of lads ran by grabbing items from stalls as they went past, one of them grabbed her bag, and another grabbed her boots and ran off with them.

“Hey!” she shouted, jumping off the chair and running after them.

The boys ran through the stalls, knocking things over and laughing, they looked like young teenagers and were led by an older lad with long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. Behind Nadia were three of the town guards that had taken up the chase. They shouted at Nadia to stop. Realising they thought she was part of the gang she ran faster and tried to dodge between two stalls, knocking into an old woman and sending her to the ground. The nearby crowd shouted at her, but she kept running, calling back an apology. The boys were out of sight now, and the guards were still chasing after her. She knew the streets well and headed over a nearby bridge, turned right, and then left to another bridge that led to an island of houses. She glanced back over her shoulder to see if the guards had kept pace, she could see the tips of their halberds as they came over the bridge.

Nadia ducked into an alleyway between the houses and pressed herself against the wall, keeping within the shadow. She held her breath as the guards ran past and breathed a sigh of relief. Her feet were sore, and she cursed her bad luck as she remembered leaving her bag of coins at the stall. Rubbing the sweat off her forehead, she crept out of the alleyway and carefully made her way back towards the cobbler’s stall.

As she got nearer, she noted a town guard talking to the cobbler. The crowd had grown impassable, and she had nowhere to turn. Hoping the cobbler would vouch for her she walked forwards. The town guard came towards her, grabbed her wrist and announced she was under arrest. Her bag of coins was gone, and the cobbler denied that she was a customer. She stared at him as he turned away. Two more town guards arrived, one of them placed iron manacles on her wrists before they led her away. The crowd parted to give them space, and she heard people calling her a thief as she was led away. Her stomach grumbled as they passed some food stalls. She thought of the bowl of soup she was going to have, then of her father and the dinner she had promised to make.

(You can find chapter two here https://medium.com/@carinamitchell17/the-waywatcher-trainee-chapter-2-a6c21ff62f92)