Chapter 1- Goatman and the goats
“They don’t want you back,” growled the proctor.
“What do you mean they don’t want me back? It’s my village, my home.” Ethan’s mind raced as he tried to understand what he was hearing. He couldn’t stay at the school and he couldn’t go home. He had been dismissed from the school shortly after confessing to one of the proctors that he didn’t have a Gift. After a short interview with the head proctor to determine whether or not he truly had a Gift, a letter had been sent to the elder of his Varnston, inquiring what was to be done with him. And a long three weeks later, he was standing here trying to comprehend what he was hearing.
“They don’t want you. There’s nothing wrong with being ungifted, but don’t be stupid, boy.” The proctor seemed caught between anger and pity. “You have no parents, and the woman that cared for you is too old to have you back. In fact, this letter says that she is in the care of another, and they’ve no room for you.”
“Elsme is too strong to have another care for her, and she would want me home,” Ethan stated with his chin out. He stood straight, daring the proctor to challenge him, but he didn’t think he could keep up the front much longer.
“She’s sick, boy. Age probably,” the proctor softened. “She can’t care for you anymore Ethan, and I don’t imagine you could care for yourself, much less try to care for her as well.”
“What do I do, sir? I don’t…I just…” Ethan broke. His brave face fell. He was trying to hold in the fear, the panic. And mostly he was trying not to cry. A boy of twelve didn’t cry.
“I don’t know son. We’ve had students stay before. Those that were mistaken in thinking they had a Gift. They continued in their studies, and we never told others about their being ungifted. But they were always provided for by their families or villages. Your case is quite different, though, isn’t it? This is beyond me. But take heart son, I’m sure a solution will be found.” The proctor placed his hand reassuringly on Ethan’s shoulder, but it felt like the hand of doom to Ethan.
“I will take the matter up with the head proctor, and I’m sure in his wisdom he will know what to do. You have been helping Arvid these past few weeks?” asked the proctor.
“Yes. Taking care of the animals and such. But I don’t think he likes me,” confessed Ethan. Working with Arvid had been the worst thing his already shaken self-esteem could take. When he admitted to others that he did not share their gifting, some students had laughed. Some had been kind, but all treated him differently. And then the head proctor removed him from classes, but there was no reason for him to attend anyway. Nothing he learned would help him in the life he would lead. But it was decided he couldn’t wait in leisure for the answer to come from his village. No, he must be doing something useful. So, they assigned him to help Arvid.
He hadn’t even known Arvid’s name before then. None of the students did. They called him the Goatman. And not because he cared for goats, but because he looked somewhat like one. Bent, stooped and covered with a course hair on his arms and head, like that of a goat. Most days he just trudged about, but when he was in a hurry to complete a chore or errand, he had a peculiar hopping gait that made most people think of…a goat.
Most of the other kids laughed and joked about the Goatman, but never while he was looking. When he looked at you with those dark, bulging eyes you couldn’t laugh, joke or even smile. It was all you could do to even return the gaze, knowing that if you did you would look again into that face tonight in your nightmares. So, he was feared, and mocked, but mostly he was ignored. And Ethan had to start helping him.
It’s not that the work was hard or unpleasant. He knew how to clean and care for animals. He had done that in his village before he had ever come to the school. And working for Arvid was not scary at all. It was hard to fear a man that you watched gently care for a sick pig. It was the other students. It was one thing to be ungifted, but he found it was another thing to be apprenticed to the Goatman. And they did not fear Ethan enough to hide their jokes or disdain from him.
“What do you mean he doesn’t like you? Arvid is one of the gentlest people I know.” The proctor genuinely seemed confused as he looked to Ethan to explain.
“Well, he’s not been mean or anything like that. He just never talks to me.” Ethan wasn’t prepared for the explosive laughter of the proctor. It startled him and then offended him. “I don’t think it’s funny!”
“I’m sorry boy,” gasped the proctor between convulsive chuckles, “I shouldn’t be laughing, but I can’t help it. He doesn’t talk to you because he can’t talk. It’s not that he doesn’t like you, he is just physically incapable of making the necessary sounds to talk.”
“He can’t talk?” Ethan was incredulous.
“Not a bit. He can grunt if he likes, but he finds that disturbs most people. He had a terrible sickness as a boy and it left his body a wreck. He is crippled and partially paralyzed. But a kinder person I have never met.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” A new thought came to Ethan. “How does he communicate?”
“He hears fine, and he writes. Once you’ve spent more time with him, you find you can understand him pretty well by watching his elaborate gestures and by the expressions he makes with his face.”
“The boys said to never look him in the face or he will come get you in your dreams.”
“Surely you are smarter than that, Ethan. You have worked with him for a few weeks. Tell me, does he seem capable of ‘getting’ anyone?”
“Well, I guess not,” Ethan said with his head down. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too. But only because you have been delayed in getting to know someone of interest. Do you think you can continue to help him while the head proctor decides what is to be done with you?”
“I think so, sir.”
“Good. Then I’m off to see the head proctor to determine your fate. But don’t worry boy, you will be all right.” He turned to go.
“Proctor?” Ethan called after him.
“Yes, Ethan?” The proctor looked back.
“What is your name?”
The proctor smiled softly and Ethan felt that everything would be all right. “James. My name is James.”
~
“I leave the decision completely in your hands, James. He was one of your boys, in your care. And if I am not mistaken, he is here in the first place because of you?”
“Yes sir,” replied James to the head proctor. “I was traveling through Varnston and heard some spectacular tales concerning the boy. It seems he has quite a reputation where he’s from. He was a bit of an outcast, what with no parents and all. But it also seemed that he was shunned in some ways. His behavior was a little odd and strange things were said to happen in his presence. I confess that I never saw anything that would show him to be gifted, but by all accounts, he sounded to be a very likely candidate.”
“Did your recommendation to invite him to attend the school in any way stem from pity?” The head proctor of the school always seemed to ask the question that you least wanted to answer. It was uncanny the way he seemed to know the truth of the matter before it was ever told him.
“I truly thought the boy to possess a Gift, but yes, I did feel for the boy. Even his own guardian didn’t like the boy. He thinks of her as a mother, but her nurturing consisted of allowing him to eat a meager share of her food, sleep on a mat by the fire and the privilege of working like a slave around her small cottage. You should have seen the look on her face when I suggested that he might leave to come here to school. You would think I had just removed a heavy burden from her shoulders. And for all this ‘care’ she showed the boy, he loves her for it. I can’t blame him. Although much of the village had words to say of the boy, none were with kindness.”
Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!
The head proctor said nothing but looked intently into James’ face. He seemed to be waiting for something more. Finally, he spoke.
“His village paid for him to attend school here,” said the head proctor, which seemed to be in defense of the village.
“Paid to be rid of him, you mean!” snapped James. The room was quiet after the remark.
“I’m sorry sir. I didn’t mean to raise my voice. You are right. I do pity the boy.”
“You tried to give him something you did not have in your own life at his age. A home.” His words were gentle, but James felt himself flush and grow defensive of his own past. “It’s all right, James, orphans should stick together. And your own parents suffered a loss for not knowing the wonderful son they produced. You have no reason to be ashamed of who you are. You are kind, brave and have a very keen mind. As this case proves.”
James looked up at that last statement. “How do you mean, sir?”
“The town did not send him here out of kindness or charity. The boy has a trust. It seems someone left the boy in the care of the town along with a small fortune to provide for him. The town had been paying Elsme, his guardian for keeping him. And when he was invited to school here, they used that same money to pay for his expenses here. So, you were right. Neither the town nor his guardian offered the boy any kindness for his own sake.”
“Well then, he will stay here Proctor Merrin,” James said with finality. “If his expenses will be paid then he can stay. He certainly has no welcome waiting for him in his village. Ungifted he may be, but there is still plenty he can learn from the education he will receive here at the school.”
The elder proctor smiled gently but there was no joy in his expression. “I would ask you to reconsider James,” he said softly. “I am afraid he would have no welcome here either.”
“Surely you wouldn’t consider him less than…”
“Not I James. Think of the other students. The most difficult lesson we teach is the lesson of humility. When these young ones learn of their Gift, there almost always follows a certain conceit and disdain for those they now consider less than themselves. The ungifted majority. The Gift is such a rare occurrence that they feel truly superior. If we don’t teach them the lessons of humility and control, their Gift will make them arrogant and cruel. And despite our best efforts, some never learn, as you know from experience,” said Proctor Merrin gravely as he looked through the window like he was looking through the years.
Memories of friendship and betrayal leapt immediately to James’ mind. He did not have to go far to find the pain he remembered when his own best friend Phillip turned on him and his classmates in their senior year of apprenticeship. It had been almost twenty years and still felt like yesterday.
Merrin turned back to James, “If we place Ethan back in class he will be tormented by those he called friend. If he were older and his classmates more mature, it might work, but I believe I’ve already begun to see the way they laugh at him. I don’t think it best if he were to stay here.”
As soon as he heard the wisdom of his own Master, James knew the words to be true. He had grown attached to the independent boy, and in truth, he saw much of himself in Ethan.
“I can’t turn him out,” James said softly as though he were speaking his thoughts aloud to himself.
“Then don’t. Find him a good apprenticeship in Flagon. He will learn a trade so that he can make his way in the world, and he will be close enough for you can check up on him daily if you desire. It will also give him a chance to live a life without being the butt of every joke.”
James thought of the town of Flagon. At five miles away, it was the closest town to the school. At one time it was nothing more than a rough little inn and tavern called the Flagon of Ale. A busy village had grown up around it over the years, though it still had a rough feel to it. He admitted to himself that there would be plenty of opportunities for a boy like Ethan in Flagon. If only he didn’t feel like he was betraying the boy by sending him there.
“Give it some thought James,” spoke Proctor Merrin as though he could see the thoughts in his head. “I know you will do what is right.”
James nodded to his master and walked from the room. As he pondered the choice nothing about it felt right.
~
The next few days passed quickly for Ethan. He found he enjoyed working with Arvid now that he knew a little more about him. Truthfully, he knew the real reason was because he wasn’t afraid of him anymore. When he watched the older man work, he saw his gentleness. He did not bully or abuse the animals but coaxed them gently into obedience to his wishes.
And now that he knew that Arvid’s reticence did not come from a surly disposition, but merely from the physical inability to talk, Ethan was more comfortable working in silence alongside him. Ethan even began to try and talk to Arvid. He was surprised to see how much delight the older man took in the fact. It seemed that silence wasn’t what he desired, but instead to be treated normally like any other man. He would smile generously when Ethan would speak to him, and he would respond with rich facial expressions and gestures that often spoke louder than simple words.
James had told Ethan that Arvid could make sounds if he wanted to, but he had only heard him do so one time. Ethan had been cleaning the floor of the barn. He was using the shovel like a broom to pull the old hay to one side of the barn so that he could gather the stack quickly once it was all together. He would start at one side and back up to the other side pulling the hay with him. As he worked, he did not realize that he was backing himself up close to a stall with a mule that liked to kick.
All his concentration was on the floor and not what was behind him. He heard Arvid loudly grunting, and although he made no words, Ethan could easily recognize the warning in his noises. He looked up at the very instant that the mule began to pull his leg in for the kick. Ethan didn’t have time to do anything other than try to dodge to the side of the oncoming kick. The kick struck him a glancing blow to the shoulder that left a nasty bruise and a sore arm for several days. If Arvid hadn’t have seen the danger and quickly grunted in warning, Ethan most likely would have received that strong kick to the center of his back or upside his head.
That was the only time that he heard Arvid make a noise of any kind. Most of the time he would tap Ethan on the shoulder for his attention. If Ethan were any distance away Arvid would toss a small pebble in front of Ethan at his feet to get his attention. That was how he was getting Ethan’s attention at the moment.
Ethan looked up as the small stone bounced off of the ground in front of him.
“What is it, Arvid?” he asked as Arvid was gesturing for Ethan’s attention from outside the barn. Ethan hurried over to where Arvid was standing in front of a pen. He looked to where Arvid was showing him the broken hasp on the gate of the pen.
“The gate is broken. Where are the goats that were here?” asked Ethan. Arvid simply shrugged and gestured back toward the school and made a gathering motion with his arms.
“Okay. I’ll go check up by the school buildings. I’ll bring the goats I find back here. Will you have the pen ready?” Arvid nodded so Ethan hurried off toward the main building of the school.
He hadn’t gone far until he spotted one of the goats grazing near the boy’s dorm. He moved towards the goat slowly so as not to alarm the animal into running. As he was approaching the goat a group of boys came out of the building. He recognized several of the boys from his class including Corbyn. Corbyn had been particularly cruel to Ethan when he had admitted that he didn’t have a Gift. He flushed just thinking about the taunts Corbyn had hurled at him.
Ethan tried not to look towards the others as he made his way to the goat, but he kept his head up. He braced himself inwardly as he saw the boys change direction and head his way being led by Corbyn. Why had the stupid goats chosen this time to bust their pen? If only they were back where they belonged, then he could be back where he belonged- in the barn.
“I don’t think you’re allowed back in the school, peasant. It is for the gifted only,” said Corbyn meanly. While it was true that those with the Gift were given a special station in life upon graduating the school, it still cut Ethan to be demeaned by a boy that had been one of his classmates a few weeks before.
“I’m not headed to the school. I’m only after that goat.” Ethan pointed to the offending animal still several yards away.
“Oh really? You mean that goat?” asked Corbyn as he picked a rock up off the ground and threw it at the beast. The goat jumped and ran when the rock hit its backside.
Ethan groaned to himself at the meanness of the act and began to walk around the knot of boys. If only the stupid goats had stayed put! If he had his way all the goats would be back where they belonged. In their pen. Then Ethan wouldn’t be out here by the school having to put up with torment from a bully like Corbyn.
As Ethan stepped past Corbyn he heard him say, “It fits. You. Out here chasing the goats. The Goatman sends you after the goats. I guess that makes you the Goatboy,” sneered Corbyn while the others listened and laughed.
“Goatboy and Goatman. Pretty soon you will turn into an ugly beast like him.”
“Don’t say that!” shouted Ethan as he quickly turned to face the other boy. “He is not a beast! He is a kind man!”
Corbyn smiled when he saw that his taunts had angered Ethan.
“He is a beast! I’ve seen him at night chasing chickens and howling at the moon like a dog!”
Before he even realized he had moved, Ethan had punched the other boy hard in the face. When Corbyn fell to the ground Ethan didn’t stop but jumped on him swinging.
“Get him off me,” cried Corbyn as he hid his face in his arms. Several of the boys jumped in and tackled Ethan to the ground.
“You are a beast!” snarled Corbyn as he got up from the ground. Ethan could see the blood on his face and could hear the tears in his voice as he tried not to cry. While the other boys held Ethan, Corbyn stepped up and started kicking him. Soon he was on the ground in the middle of a circle of boys shouting “Goatboy! Goatboy!” as they kicked him.
Ethan tried to shield his face, but he knew he was getting beaten badly. He no longer seemed to care about getting kicked. Everything seemed to slow down and for some reason it seemed like the clouds in the sky were getting thicker and thicker blocking out the sun. He heard someone yelling, “What are you doing? Get away from him!”
He couldn’t see who it was. The clouds were so heavy there was little light. As the clouds blocked out more of the light, he wondered why the goats couldn’t stay in their pen.
Then the rest of the light was gone and he passed out completely.