5.Death of Chaos
XLVI
WERFEL'S DESK, LIKE everything else, was taking longer than I planned. This time, again, it was the glue, which I'd neglected, and needed to remake. The problem with glue is that it hardens, usually before the joins are ready. So I was chipping and grinding, and heating more water when there was a rap on the shop door.
Three people stood there-Rissa, another woman, and a black-haired youngster-presumably the first response to Rissa's efforts in informing all of Kyphros that I was seeking an apprentice. All she had needed was my admission that I needed one.
My leg no longer twinged when I walked across the shop, but it did tremble if I put weight on it for too long, although the bone seemed completely healed.
“This is Master Lerris,” said Rissa. “Wendre thinks Gallos would be a good woodworker.”
I inclined my head to Wendre, a stout woman with long brown hair wound into a bun. “Sometimes, woodworking is difficult.”
The youngster looked up at me. He wasn't as tall as I am, but most Kyphrans aren't. “You're a wizard, aren't you?”
“At times, but I spend more time doing woodworking.”
Rissa tugged at Wendre's arm. “I have some fresh bread. Let Master Lerris talk to Gallos.”
Wendre let herself be tugged out of the workroom.
“Come over here.” I walked toward the bin that contained my odd-sized pieces-too big to burn and too small to use except for boxes, breadboards, inlays, or small decorative items-except for the inlays, things that would have been done mostly by the apprentice I didn't have. After fishing out a piece of cherry, I handed it to Gallos. “What can you tell about this?” He took the wood, but he looked at me as if I were crazy. “It's wood. It's a piece of wood. That's all it is.”
“What would you do with it?”
“Make things, I guess. Isn't that what you want an apprentice for?”
“What does it feel like?”
He shrugged, his black eyes puzzled. “It feels like wood.”
“Is it smooth or rough? What does it smell like?”
“Smooth, I guess. It smells like wood.” He handed it back tome.
I did not sigh. “Why did you come to see me?”
“My mom, she said I'd better do something, and you're not just a craftmaster-you're a wizard. I want to be a wizard.”
“I had to learn to be a woodworker first.” I wondered how to tell him that it just wouldn't work.
“I don't think I'd like that.”
“Maybe you ought to think about it some more.” I set the piece of cherry back in the bin and led him to the door and through the drizzle up onto the porch and into the kitchen.
Rissa's friend looked from me to her son. So did Rissa. Neither said a word.
I swallowed. Finally, I said, “I don't think Gallos is really interested in being a woodworker.”
Wendre glared at her son.
“It's not something that you can force,” I added. “Some people are good with stone, others with blades...”
Wendre's glare softened somewhat, but Gallos stayed by the door.
“Thank you.” I slipped back out the door and toward the shop. Had I been that indifferent? I didn't think so. Sloppy? Yes, I had been sloppy, and careless, and I recalled Sardit's frustration and anger, but the wood had always felt good in my hands. Was I asking too much? Probably, but Bostric had felt the woods, and even Brettel the millmaster had been able to feel that in Bostric, that gangly apprentice I had trained for Destrin and had married to Deirdre.
I swallowed, wondering how Deirdre and Bostric were doing, whether they had children, and whether Deirdre had been able to keep her father alive. Destrin hadn't been that good a crafter, but even he had understood woods.
With another deep breath, I went back to turning the legs of the desk chair for Werfel. On the second leg the chisel slipped, and all I had was a piece of firewood, or perhaps the leg of a working stool. I shook my head at myself, both at the waste of wood and the lack of concentration.
Rissa slipped though the door and stood at the back of the shop.
“Yes? Are they gone?” I asked.
“I told Wendre that Gallos would not be a good woodworker.”
“Then why did you have her bring him?”
“Would she listen to me? I am not the woodworker.” Rissa shook her head. “I see you look at the wood, and it is not just wood. You touch it, almost like a lover. Gallos-he would strike it with a hammer to see if he could make a hole in it.”
I took a deep breath. “Are there any youngsters who like wood-young women, too? Men aren't the only ones who could be woodworkers.”
“That I do not know. But I can ask, and see if there are those who might feel that way. I will have to tell them that is what you want. If I say that-they will think Rissa has gone crazy, but wizards and mastercrafters are all crazy. So no one will think anything about it.”
“That's why you had Gallos come in... so that everyone would learn that I'm impossible?”
Rissa didn't smile, but her dark eyes did sparkle. “Gallos was already talking about how you wanted him to feel the wood and smell it. Soon everyone will know.”
“Wonderful. All of Kyphros will think I have lost my mind.”
“No, Master Lerris. No one presumes to know a wizard's mind, and so who can tell whether he has lost it or not?”
An impossible, inscrutable wizard yet-but it was better than being thought mad or chaos-tinged-and I wasn't that much past the score mark in years. For some reason, I recalled my father and wondered what he would have thought. Probably he would have delivered a long moralistic explanation. Uncle Sardit would have understood, though, and I still would have preferred being the eccentric craftmaster to the inscrutable wizard.
“Well, this crafter is going back to working on a desk that should already have been finished.”
“Never... never do you stop unless you are hurt or ordered by the commander or the autarch.”
“Can you think of any better people to obey?”
“Men...” sniffed Rissa as she left.
As for me, I still didn't have an apprentice, and I still didn't know when Krystal would return, and I was beginning to worry. Going out on a routine trip and not returning-that was what had happened to Ferrel.
I went back to chipping and grinding old glue, and boiling water.