5.Death of Chaos
LXI
KRYSTAL'S ARM WAS better in the morning-sore, but with no signs of chaos-and I bandaged it loosely before she rode back to Kyphrien to report to Kasee. Then I went to work on Durrik's chest, but not for long.
Wegel showed up-a day earlier than I'd thought. Faslik brought him, and the young man actually had two saws, one a good crosscut blade, a smoothing blade, and chisels, although the largest chisel was really too big, more suited to working for a shipwright than a crafter. I didn't say anything about that, and he could probably trade it for something smaller in time.
“You sure about this, Master Lerris?” Faslik asked for the fourth time as he sat on his wagon seat, ready to leave. “He's a good lad.”
Wegel stood by the walk to the shop, looking down.
“I'm sure. He gets his lodging, his food, and a copper an eight-day for now-and half of the proceeds after the wood costs of anything he sells.”
“How long before he can be more than an apprentice?”
I had to shrug. “I can't say. Two, three years if he's good.” It might be sooner than that, but I'd decided it was better to promise less. “It's not just talent. Talent he has.” , Wegel smiled shyly at that.
Faslik nodded. “He's a good lad.” Then he lifted the reins and drove off, his bearded face looking back with every other step of his horses, and his wagon creaking all the way out to the road.
Wegel swallowed, and I patted his shoulder.
“Let's get you settled.” I led him to the long bunk room at the end of the stable. I'd surveyed the stable and guard area earlier, and had figured out how to build a small space for Wegel. I'd help a bit, but he was going to do most of the work. In the meantime, he'd just have to take one of the bunks. It was belter than I'd had when I'd started with Destrin. There were six bunks anyway, and Krystal almost never brought more than four guards, but, as in everything, I'd overdone the design- Krystal was pointing that out to me more and more. I wondered why it bothered her so much. She'd paid for the materials and a lot of the work I couldn't do. Sometimes, as with Wegel, it worked out.
He looked around the space with the small table, the stools-quick, crude efforts on my part-and the three sets of bunks.
“You want an upper one or a lower one? The upper ones are a bit warmer, which might be better now. We'll have you in your own cubby before the weather gets too hot.” I thought about his foot and added, “Some people worry about falling out of the top ones, though, and some like it colder when they sleep. You ought to take one of the end ones-either the top one or the bottom. That way, when the commander's guards are here-”
“C-c-c-c-com... ?”
“I told you. When Krystal-she's my consort, except she's really more important than I am, so perhaps I'm her consort-is here, her personal guards sleep here. They're good people. Krystal wouldn't have it any other way.”
“Y-y-you k-k-k-illed the order wiz-z-z...”
“I did put an end to a couple of wizards, but it wasn't all that heroic. After the last time, I couldn't walk for a half-season, and I still limp.” I snorted. “Grafting's a lot easier, hard as it is, and generally a lot more rewarding.”
Because he still had that inquiring look, I kept talking. “Pick a bunk and put your pack and stuff there. Not your tools. We'll put those in your racks in the shop.”
Wegel just stood there, short brown hair straggling down across the top of his forehead.
“Wegel-don't believe everything you hear. Most of the time I'd rather be doing woodworking than wizardry.” I patted him on the shoulder, even if he were nearly as tall as I was and broader across the chest and shoulders. “We need to get you started. There's a lot of work to do.”
Finally, he swung his gear onto the top bunk at the end and followed me back across the yard. Before we went into the shop, I brought him into the kitchen, where Rissa was scrubbing the stove.
“Master Lerris... the floor needs scrubbing, I do not have-”
"Rissa, I just wanted you to meet Wegel. He'll be sleeping in the guard quarters until he can build his own space in the stable building.
“Wegel, this is Rissa. She fixes wonderful food, runs the kitchen, and lets us all know what she thinks. She's right enough that I'm very careful about disagreeing with her.”
“Master Lerris... you be making me into a spite-cat willing to chew this poor fellow up.” She put down the blackened brush and turned to Wegel. “Faslik's boy, aren't you? The one with the good knife? Someday, if Master Lerris doesn't work you into the ground, I'd like you to carve me a wooden chicken. Of course, he won't work you as hard as he works himself, but that sometimes doesn't help much. But maybe you can do me a chicken.” She looked at me. “Carved ones likely be the only ones we get around here.”
“Rissa. No chickens.”
She glanced back at Wegel. “You look hungry.” She crossed the kitchen, bringing back a good half loaf of bread. “It's cool, but it's good enough. Go ahead. Master Lerris won't mind.”
I nodded. “When you finish eating, bring your stuff to the shop, and we'll get it racked. Then we'll start you in.”
I left the kitchen and went to the drawing board in the shop. While Wegel finished eating the bread, I sketched out a rough drawing of a box just like the one I had built for Uncle Sardit. Like I'd had to do, Wegel was going to keep notes on woods and projects. And like Uncle Sardit, although probably not nearly so well, I was going to have to teach him what I knew. I took a deep breath. Uncle Sardit would have laughed.
The two additional commissions I'd gotten just before Wegel had arrived weren't exactly ideal for starting Wegel. He might be able to help on the case for Minister Zeiber. Then we'd see about the dowry chest for Preltar's daughter. I sighed, thinking about the hinges I needed to commission.
As I was finishing the sketch of the box, Wegel peered into the shop.
“That rack's yours. When you aren't using a tool, it goes back in the rack. Understand?”
He nodded.
I wasn't about to start Wegel on a desk like Antona's, although I would have him carve the inlaid A-he could clearly do that better and more quickly than I, even in the dark lorken, and there was certainly no sense in my spending forever on something that would take him perhaps a morning, a day or two at most.
So I had him start on his note box, interrupting him as necessary to help hold and position the work I was doing on Antona's desk.
“Gluing and fitting cherry is even harder than oak. Oak is heavier, but, in a way, it has more give. Cherry tends to be more brittle, and it requires more care. You just can't force it, and you have to be careful with the grains.” I edged the pieces together as I talked.
“You can't force a join, just like you can't force a carving.” I lined up the clamps for the pedestal bracing, and tightened them slowly. “-See... you only want enough pressure to hold the wood in place... with just enough glue there... the wood and the pins carry the weight. The glue is really to keep the pieces in position so that the supports do carry the weight...” I looked at Wegel. “Do you see... ?”
“I... sss... eeee...”
I shook my head and grinned. “You don't have to talk. Just nod yes or no. Unlike some people, I think I can understand, and I don't want you wearing yourself out when you don't have to. Save your efforts for the wood.”
Wegel nodded, then turned away.
I touched his shoulder. “If you want to talk... that's fine, too. All I meant was that you don't have to if you don't want to...” I hadn't meant to hurt his feelings, but talking was such an effort for him at times that I didn't want him wearing himself out trying to please me.
Wegel nodded at me with a half-smile.
“Can you write?”
“A l-l-l-little.”
“Good. When you feel like taking a break from the box, I want you to do two things. I'll give you some thick paper, and the first thing is to write down what you know about cherry, and anything you learned today. After that, I'll show you how to do breadboards. Every apprentice needs to do a few. Rissa could use one or two, and you might be able to sell some others for a copper or two. Some of the extra wood can't be used for anything else, and at least that way it won't cost you. Then, in your spare time, I want you to sketch out the design for an A.”
Wegel raised his eyebrows.
“The desk here. It will have a small carved A that I'll inlay in the corner. You carve better than I do. So you can take the first cut at the design. After you carve it, I'll chalk it and cut the grooves.”
“M-m-m-me?”
“Why not?” I grinned. “The design has to be carved-it's really cutting as much as carving. And you can't hurt the desk because you're working on a separate piece. I'll show you how I want it set so the wood grain runs in the right direction.”
“G-g-g-rain?”
That question led into an explanation of wood grain, and how the grains have to match, unless you're using the grains as a pattern in themselves. I was a little surprised that Wegel didn't know more about grains, and woods, but I had the feeling he had been doing the drudge work at the mill.
Still, he seemed to understand.