Page 31 of Seducing the Sorcerer
Fenn calmed down by showing Jasper the right way to disassemble and oil a bridle, though he took care to do it in the tack room where there were no unsettling enchantments.
Jasper, when he wasn’t frightened, seemed eager to learn, quick-witted and polite. And he showed no inclination to laugh at the worple horse which was definitely a mark in his favour. They sat on old wooden boxes and worked on top of another box set between them. The rain came down hard again and roared on the roof.
Soothed by the familiar job and the scent of linseed oil and leather, Fenn began to relax. He remarked on the lad’s accent and discovered Jasper was from Heregovia, way off east of Lutia. Fenn learned that Jasper was the only servant at the tower, his job being to man the gatehouse and be general dogsbody to Morgrim, though meals and firewood were sent over from the palace so Jasper at least did not have to cook, wash up or chop wood.
Fenn also learned that the clouds had been at the tower for nearly two years, which was longer than Jasper.
“But what are the clouds for?” Fenn asked, rubbing oil onto the reins with a rag. “To water that pasture?”
“I don’t know, sir.” Jasper said, rubbing at the cheek strap.
Fenn glanced at what the lad was doing.
“You want a touch more oil,” Fenn advised. “And what’s he like? Does he beat you much if you make mistakes?”
Jasper tilted the oil bottle to his rag, set to again. “No, sir. He’s never beaten me.”
“No? Well, that’s good. But give over with the sirs, eh? I ain’t your master. Fenn will do. Or Mr. Todd. But anyway, a beating’s one thing, ain’t it? There’s other ways of making a man’s life difficult. Does he get a bit grabby now and then, eh? Expect favours and that?”
Jasper blushed, put down the cheek strap, picked up the nose-band and applied oil to that. “He’s not like that.”
To Fenn’s surprise, the lad sounded a bit choked up. Almost regretful. Interesting. Could Jasper have a thing for his severe, unsmiling master? That was a big assumption though and Fenn dismissed it. It might as easily have been embarrassment making the lad’s voice go funny.
“No? Bet he’s a right stickler, though, eh? I had a boss once, always finding fault, he was. I couldn’t do nothing right. Like that, is he? He seemed right hard to please last night.”
“It’s an honour to serve at the Tower,” Jasper said stiffly.
Fenn grunted. He didn’t much care for honours, though he could see a lad like Jasper might set great store by them. But it seemed more likely Jasper was giving an answer that wouldn’t get him into trouble if it got back to Morgrim.
“Well, I hope he don’t expect anything unreasonable of you,” Fenn said.
“No, sir.”
“Because there’s other positions out there. I know times are hard, but you don’t have to stay where you aren’t happy. Bright lad like you could get another job easy. You take my meaning?”
“I couldn’t leave!” Alarm crossed Jasper’s face. “I’d never. This is my dream, working here.”
“Oh, aye? Here, you done with that nose-band? Good. Now we’ll put it all back together.” Fenn began to reassemble the bridle, remembering as he did so that sorcerers usually had apprentices. Perhaps that was part of the attraction. “Does he teach you magic?”
“He talks about it sometimes.” Jasper’s face fell. “But he says I have no gift for it. I can’t even jig a crystal.”
Fenn regarded the lad’s mournful face with a pang of sympathy. Maybe Morgrim found him a disappointment. Maybe that was why he was so short with the boy.
“Magic’s unchancy stuff, ain’t it?” Fenn said. “Happen you’re best off without?”
“Maybe,” Jasper said, colourlessly.
“Easy for me to say, eh? He says I’m a magician now. What do you reckon to that? Think it’s true?”
“If he says it, it’s true. He knows everything about magic.”
Morgrim certainly didn’t know everything about worple horses, but Fenn simply said, “Ah. Well, we’ll see.” He finished with the bridle, held it up. “There. Good job, that. Now listen; want your help with something else. You got the afternoon free?”
“Yes, sir. I’m at your disposal. I can clear out the old tapestries from the room in the gatehouse and—”
“No. Don’t want none of that.” Fenn hung Blaze’s bridle on its peg. “Stables are fine for now. What I want is a big shed or similar with a roof and a door what closes. Want to see what happens if I put this horse somewhere it can’t get out. Understand? Because if I tie it up or leave it in a stall...well, that just don’t work.”
Jasper suggested the old mews and led Fenn down the length of the stable yard to a solid wooden door at the far end. It opened it onto a large square room with a stone floor and metal grills on the windows. It was empty but for half a dozen stands and several huge cages that must have once held the birds of prey. Fenn told Jasper it was a prime notion and to take the rest of the afternoon off. The boy blinked, gave Fenn a rare smile, and ran off towards the gatehouse.
