Wizard of Jatte - Rowan Erlking (year 2 reading books txt) 📗

was actually their second cousin, a weaver’s daughter and second child. They moved into Lumen Village that last year at the request of the town elders since the weaver was superfluous labor in his home town of Pepersin. Lumen had lost their best weavers the winter before last to a sickness. All they had were rudimentary weavers for utility purposes like nets, burlap, ropes, and flour sacks. Milrina’s family brought back cloth-making and fine embroidered patterns. Milrina was in training to be a weaver and seamstress, however when she had free time she spent most of it with her cousins. So far, only Theissen didn’t seemed to mind having her around. Doreen was jealous of her, and Alania thought she was just plain silly.

“So, could what? Is your tongue stuck?” Milrina said things like that. Her parents were quirky folk, apt to tease and banter when with others. The carpenter often said they were too well learned for their own good.

“None of your business,” Kinnerlin said, going back to eating his pie.

Milrina merely tilted her head and looked at Theissen. “So, are you done with making all that wood stuff? Are you coming back to class tomorrow?”

Slouching a bit, Theissen nodded. “Yes. Dad says we are all caught up. Tolbetan and I are going to class again. Kinnerlin will be staying in the shop from now on.”

“Lucky!” Milrina said, giving Kinnerlin a jealous stare. “You don’t have to listen to boring man anymore.”

Kinnerlin smothered a laugh, as he secretly agreed. Instead he merely shrugged then lifted his chin with a bit of pride. “I’m the head apprentice now. Dad needs me in the shop.”

“He is so lucky,” Milrina repeated. She did that a lot, repeated herself. “Lucky, lucky, lucky.”

“So not fair.” Her brother Tebbit suddenly came up, reaching in for another piece of pie. He gave Kinnerlin an appreciative nod and pulled himself out again. “I want to stay home and just practice the trade. Dad says we can’t until we are at least fourteen. He doesn’t think the budding ceremony is a good marker for maturity. So unfair.”

That made Kinnerlin smirk. His cousin’s voice had started changing just that winter. His budding ceremony had been scheduled almost immediately afterward. Since then, he prepared to take the final examination to he would earn his Jatte school certificate. He had his last lesson with Yuld a week right after the winter thaw started. From then on, all he had to focus on was his trade. Everyone had looked on their cousin jealously when that happened, Theissen more than most. The break they got from studies before Dalance’s adulthood ceremony had been so nice. It was painful to think about them starting again.

But as Theissen looked back, noticing Migdrin’s shadow lean against their house, he could feel that his studies were nothing to the stagnant swirling of hate Migdrin held festering in his chest. Though it was not knotted magic, it had a stink to it that leaned toward the demonic. Without Dalance to keep Migdrin in check, as the boy reminded Theissen out by the shop, who knew what he would do?

Chapter Four: Everyone Says He’s Special

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“So, they haven’t found him?” Millerswife asked Millinerswife

“No. His parents say he left for good.”

“But why? That boy could have had the shop if he took his apprenticeship seriously.”

The milliner’s wife frowned slightly, leaning in to whisper her tasty bit of gossip with a reproving shake of her head. “The eldest Shoemakerson was always trouble, if you ask me. It is good he left. But, I heard he was seen at the magician’s home the day before he just up and left.”

“I heard that too. I wonder what he was buying?”

“Do you think he paid for it with the silver spoons he stole from his mother’s cupboard?”

“No, he stole those after. She said they were there the night before she found him missing.”

“So he left at night, then?”

“It appears so.”

Theissen heard it all throughout the village. It had been barely a week after his brother Dalance had left as a journeyman carpenter, and Theissen had been expecting Migdrin to jump him from around a corner again to fulfill his threat. Somehow this was unexpected, though not an improbable concept. The boy had said he was planning on leaving the village. Theissen only wondered why it came sooner rather than later.

Still keeping an eye out for the eldest Shoemakerson, Theissen continued to walk with Tolbetan to where Yuld held classes.

The village school congregated in the building attached to the village library. It was an open hall with benches and pull down desks of wrought iron and wood. Each day they had to bring their own slate, paper, chalk, pencils and books because the classroom was also used for public trials and meetings. It could not accommodate their supplies during those hours. Fortunately not every child attended Yuld’s classes. Only those whose parents could afford to pay the teacher’s fees. Of course, some parents attempted to teach their children on their own, feeling that Yuld put unnecessary emphasis on history rather than drilling their children in law like he ought to. That was what they told themselves anyway, saying it was his fault that Theissen had stolen the magician’s celestial ball even after taking his classes; he hadn’t been taught the law properly, they said.

But Yuld Scribeson was not a neglectful teacher. He drilled every child in the law each morning before he turned their studies to things like writing and penmanship. Then he bored them with Jatte history. It wasn’t the history so much that was boring. It was the way Yuld told it. He never lost that pompous air; that air that Theissen loved to ruffle because it really was so presumptuous to assume everyone in Lumen Village cared about how intelligent the schoolteacher looked. Most of them were simple children of tradesmen or farmers with little care except to succeed their fathers and mothers in their future professions.

The two Carpentersons arrived at the public building where most of the children were playing games outside. Since the golden ball incident most of the boys gave Theissen a wide berth, though the girls always had—always except for his cousin who skipped right up to him, breathless and laughing. Milrina never did anything without laughing first.

“Ha! Theissen, come and play with us!” She reached out her hand.

Theissen smiled and took her hand, joining her group of girls who stared at him with expressions of surprise and some horror they tried hard to mask.

“Sissy boy!” Tolbetan said with his own laugh, joining his friends.

Despite the initial discomfort, something Theissen had to live with regardless of if it had been a boy or girl. The boys were running around, playing a game of tag. The girls had gathered in groups, some playing with their dolls, though Milrina’s group was gathered around a set of smooth sticks piled on top of each other in a mess, attempting to pick one up without making any of the others move. The games continued even to the ringing of the bell.

Yuld stood importantly on the top step, waiting with his hands clasped behind his back. Though every child looked inclined to stay outside despite it being school hour, they all stopped their games and headed to the doors, walking past the teacher one by one. He eyed each one, focusing his terse glares on the dirtier boys and the whispering girls. There was to be silence when the teacher stood at the head. So far they had failed to behave. When all had gone in, the teacher followed.

As usual, they took their places in their seats and began to recite the basic laws of the land, including what punishment was attached to each law broken. Almost every law in Jatte had a punishment affixed. Thieves had their hands slashed and spent time in prison. Adulterers were castrated then cast out of communities. Vandals were stripped and then tattooed all over their skin in abusive writing, made to stand in a public place for all to see for a week. Murderers were executed, usually beheaded though if there was not an axe around, a hanging usually did the trick. There were other laws with less harsh punishments, but the fear the Jatte government wanted to put on criminals was emphasized when children were young so that they were less inclined to pursue dishonest and cruel life choices.

“And today’s law we will study is the law against dishonesty. Who can tell me what happens to a liar?” Yuld waited next to his large chalkboard, his chalk raised and his head tilted to listen.

Hands went up. He pointed to one.

One of the fishmonger’s daughters rose from her seat and recited: “Anyone who tells a falsehood to their neighbor with the purpose to deceive him is punished according to the extremity of the lie.”

“And what punishment is that?” Yuld asked.

Another set of hands shot up. If someone didn’t volunteer, Yuld most always chose a student who wasn’t paying attention. It was the worst kind of humiliation. Theissen had raised his hand, but for him that was a guarantee that he would never get picked. Yuld only paid him any attention when he looked distracted.

“Groverson.” Yuld pointed to a tall boy of ten years.

Standing, the son to the man who owned the apple groves said, “Perpetual liars are to have their tongues cut out.”

“And a first time liar?” Yuld prompted.

The grover’s son frowned. “I don’t know. His tongue gets washed out with soap?”

Several of the kids broke into snickers. Theissen could hear Milrina’s identifiable laughter a few rows behind her. The girls sat together and often giggled over there.

Their teacher gave the grover’s son a sharp look. “No. That is for children. What happens to an adult caught in a lie for the first time?”

“His tongue is pierced,” another boy said, out of turn.

Yuld slapped his chalk down. “Did I call on you?”

There was silence.

“No, I did not.” Yuld paused. “Yes, a liar’s tongue is pierced, and a ring is set into it. It will remain there for five years. After that it can be removed.”

He continued his lesson, making the children copy down the exact words to the law as he wrote them on the chalkboard.

Theissen felt something poke him in the back. At first he just thought someone had moved his slate too fast, but it happened again. He didn’t want to glance over his shoulder since Yuld had a strict face-forward classroom policy, however, he was poked a third time and it felt like it was a pen tip going from one side of his back to the other.

He heard a snicker behind him.

“Shh!” Yuld hissed, raising a finger. “Write it ten times.”

Obeying, Theissen took out one of his papers and started writing, dipping the pen into his inkwell and dabbing off the extra. With his small hand, it was still hard to form each letter of Jatten well. His penmanship matched his age level, but he always found it unsatisfactory. There were times he was tempted to just touch the paper and make the ink words form more smoothly on the page. However, his father had once said there was value in being able to do something from practice.