The Dark Amulet Collection

Chapter 8

The pile of books in the corner of Jayhan’s room inspired him to study hard for a good fortnight. But at the end of that time, he opened one of the heavy leather bound tomes and found that he could read it no better than he had the day his father gave them to him. Disgruntled, he complained to his tutor, Eloquin, but she merely counselled him to have patience and study harder. Since he had given it his level best for the last fortnight, he knew he couldn’t study harder. In fact, he was so peeved she hadn’t appreciated his efforts that he decided it wasn’t worth the bother. He dragged the pile of books into the back recess of his wardrobe, deciding to banish them from his mind and find other ways to learn about his great grandma.

After stowing the books, Jayhan stomped dispiritedly down the hallway and into the library where the ever-patient Eloquin was waiting to instil him the wonders of reading. With equal patience, he endured her uninspiring rendition of a dreary little story about a boy walking his dog. While Eloquin attempted to emulate a doggy bark, Jayhan heard the sounds of a large cart drawing up outside. Bryson, the carter, had arrived with their week’s supplies of vegetables, meats, sacks of grain and kegs of ale.

Jayhan was manfully training his attention on the fascination of the dog wagging its tail, when a loud crash sent him running to the window to see what was happening.

Outside in the driveway, a horse was rearing between the shafts of a cart laden high. The horse’s eyes rolled in fear as a large black cat stood stiff-legged in front of it, back arched and hissing her displeasure. The horse’s owner was nowhere in sight, presumably inside the house with his first load for the kitchen.

Jayhan saw Beth arrive from the stables at a dead run, kicking her ferocious cat out of the way and lunging to grab hold of the horse’s bridle. But the cat was not so easily dismissed. It spat and dug its claws into her boot as she kicked, unbalancing her.

Suddenly Beth was falling beneath slashing hooves. As Jayhan held his breath in horror, a small scrawny figure, dressed in tattered leggings and jerkin, catapulted himself at Beth, thrusting her out of the way just as the horse’s hooves descended. The boy rolled lithely onto his feet, leapt up to catch hold of the reins and vaulted onto the back of the plunging horse. Grabbing the horse’s mane with one hand, the boy leaned forward, crooning softly to the horse and stroking its neck in long, sure strokes. For a moment, the horse’s ears flattened and its hindquarters bunched. Then, as the crooning voice penetrated its panic, the horse snorted, tossed its head, and came to a standstill, quivering with fright. As the firm stroking and gentle voice continued, the quivering gradually subsided.

Ignoring the protests of his tutor, Jayhan rushed out of the school room and down the stairs. He catapulted from the front door just in time to see the boy slide off the great horse’s back and walk over to Beth, who was still sitting on the gravel. The boy held out a hand to help her up.

“Are you all right, ma’am?”

“I’m fine, thank you. I was just waiting for the horse to calm before making any movement in front of him. I’m quite capable of standing up in my own.” Fright and irritation made Beth’s voice harsher than she intended. She stood up and brushed gravel off her scraped hands.

The boy dropped his head. “Sorry, Ma’am. And sorry about Hoofer.”

Suddenly, a great burly man pushed past Jayhan and strode over to the boy, grabbing him by the scruff of his shirt and dragging him away from Beth before bringing his other arm around in an arc, to hit him hard across the back of his head. The boy went sprawling.

“Sasha,” he roared. “What do you think you’re doing, talking to the patrons? You get back up on that cart and hand me down that sack of potatoes.”

The boy pulled himself to his hand and knees, shaking his head in an effort to clear it. As he struggled to stand up, the big man strode towards him, hand raised, ready to hit him again.

“That’s enough, Bryson,” cracked a harsh voice.

The man stopped in his tracks and turned belligerently.

Dwarfed by him, Beth stood hands on hip, glaring up at him. “That child just saved my life. But even if he hadn’t, you have no reason to use him so roughly.”

Bryson towered over her, glaring but constrained by his need to sell his goods. “He’s mine. I’ll do what I like with him.”

“If you keep hitting your son around the head like that, his wits will be addled before he is full grown.”

The man spat to the side. “He’s not my son. No whelp of mine would be so small and scrawny by the age of eight. Sasha’s a foundling, and I am looking after him out of the goodness of my heart.”

“Cheap labour, more like.”

Bryson shrugged. “The boy must earn his keep.”

While they talked, Sasha had climbed nimbly up the wheel spokes, onto the top rim of the wheel and from there, onto the tray of the cart where he stood holding a corner of the sack of potatoes, waiting for his master to be ready to catch it. The side of his dark face was grazed from being hurled onto the gravel and a trickle of blood was drying, unheeded, on his cheek. He watched warily, knowing his master would be even angrier after Beth’s intervention.

“Then he can earn it with me,” said Beth firmly. “I need a new stable lad and this one has a way with horses I have rarely seen.”

The burly man spluttered. “You can’t just go taking my lad away from me. I’ve spent months training him up; teaching him how to drive the horse, how to pack up the merchandise and keep the cart in good order. There’s a lot in it, you know. Not as easy as you might think, carting merchandise.”

“How much?” asked Beth baldly.

Just as the carter opened his mouth to reply, Beth held up her hand. “Whatever you were going to say, halve it. It will save us both a lot of time.”

The carter shook his head despondently. “You’re a hard woman, Beth. But since my own lad’s nearly ready to join me, I won’t have to hire someone until I train up a new lad, so ten silver florins should cover it.”

“Six,” returned Beth promptly

“Nine.”

“Seven and the deal is struck.”

“Done,” said Bryson, spitting on his hand and holding it out to Beth, who grasped it. “I’ll be glad to see the last of him,” he added spitefully.

A piping voice interrupted them from the top of the cart. “Now, hang on a minute. I’m no slave to be bartered around. I may be a foundling but I’m a free foundling. I’ve been working day and night for this bloke. Where’s my money?”

my“You don’t get none, you halfwit reject,” snarled Bryson.

“I’m not a halfwit and I’m not…” Sasha’s voice died away.

“Huh. You see. You are a b****y reject. Just be glad you’ve had food and a place to sleep. Now finish unloading that cart.”

areSasha, his face tight with resentment, directed his anger into the strength he needed to push the sack of potatoes off the cart into his master’s waiting arms. Without another word, he waited sullenly for Bryson to deliver the potatoes inside then handed down each item as required. He avoided Bryson’s gaze, and everyone else’s. When the cart was empty, he pulled the ropes onto the cart and rolled them into neat coils at the front of the tray.

Jayhan watched the boy standing in front of the coils of rope, arms folded across his chest, a scowl on his face, and suddenly realised Sasha was frightened. No one had told him when he would come to work for Beth and if he went back with Bryson, he was facing another beating, Jayhan guessed. If Sasha stayed now, he was entering a new, uncertain world and although Beth had stood up for him, she had been tetchy to him and aggressive with Bryson and had not stayed to watch the end of the unpacking.

Jayhan walked quickly to the stables and called, “Beth. Bryson’s leaving. Are you keeping the boy now?”

He found Beth with her head under her bed. “Tell them to wait. I will be out there in a minute.”

Jayhan frowned and peered under the bed next to her. “What are you doing?”

“I need another shilling. It rolled under the bed here and I can’t find it.” She pushed him back. “Now go and tell Bryson to wait.”

“I will.” He hesitated. “Beth, I have two florins saved up. It’s in my room upstairs. Do you want them? I don’t want that boy to go home with Bryson. He’s going to beat him again, isn’t he?”

Beth pulled head out from under the bed. Cobwebs clung to the front of her hair and she used the back of her hand to wipe them away. “Oh Jayhan. You’re a dear. Thanks. Just a loan, mind. I’ll get it back to you. Now go and tell them to wait, then run inside and bring the money to me here. Got that?”

Jayhan nodded, pleased to have his offer accepted. He walked quickly to the front of the house and saw Bryson already sitting on the seat of his wagon, ready to leave. “Excuse me Bryson. Beth says, asks, could you wait a minute please. She will be out shortly.”

“She’d better be quick. I’ve got to get back to the store house before dark,” Bryson grumbled.

“She will be,” said Jayhan as he shot into the house and up the stairs. He dodged past Eloquin and into his bedroom, pushing the door shut behind him with a little too much vigour. He opened the cupboard under his bedside table and took out a cloth drawstring bag full of colourful rocks that he had collected. At the bottom of the bag was another small cavity held shut by another drawstring.

Jayhan emptied the little rocks onto his bed then felt around for the small loop of the drawstring and from there, inserted a finger into the little hole that expanded to reveal the cavity beneath. His fingers closed around the silver florins.

With the florins clutched in one hand, Jayhan threw the door open, ducked past Eloquin who was just about to knock on his door. He muttered an apology over his shoulder as he sped off down the side stairs. He scooted through the kitchen, nearly scattering a bowl of shelled peas, and out through the side door across to the stables.

“Here,” he said, panting, as he held his hand out to Beth.

As she took the florins, Beth smiled into his unnervingly pale eyes, noticing only his earnest, kind face. “Well done, young one. Now, off you go, back the way you came. Thank you.”

As Jayhan emerged from the stairwell, he saw Eloquin down the other end of the corridor, gesticulating wildly as she told his mother of his behaviour. He slipped unnoticed into the schoolroom, crossing straight to the widow to peer down at the scene below.

Sasha had climbed down from the wagon and was now standing beside Beth as she farewelled Bryson. They watched as Bryson turned the cart and headed for the front gate without a backward glance. Then she placed an arm around the boy’s shoulder to steer him towards the stable. Unexpectedly, Jayhan felt a stab of jealousy as he turned from the window and returned to his work table.

When his mother and Eloquin entered a few minutes later, he had already written a sentence about a boy walking his dog and was waiting for his next task.

He smiled cheerily. “Sorry Eloquin. It was important,” he said, but refused to say what was important.