Chapter 7

The boots fit perfectly, and they were horrible. Worse, Ezhno insisted that Mato wear socks knitted from fine woolen thread. The wool was itchy, the boots were hot, and Mato’s feet sweated constantly.

The soles were flexible, and the tops laced up nearly to his knees. Ezhno insisted that he wear the boots constantly, even when sleeping.

Mato was introduced to Dyami, who was not a trail master, but served as their quartermaster. He supplied many of their travel items, and told them where to find the rest. Mato spent hours with the careful man stitching his own pack together. It had a wooden frame and leather compartments for his most commonly used gear.

While Mato was acclimating to his new boots they built up his trail gear. There was a roll of good twine for making snares and shelters. He needed a long knife for fighting and skinning animals. There was a short knife for carving and more detail-oriented work. They got a sheet of stiff fabric and oiled it. This would be a source of shade in some places, and would protect him from rain when they reached wetter climates.

There was a short bow and a handful of arrows. They picked out two good pieces of bamboo to prop up his shade cloth. He needed sun goggles, made from ox bones. The goggles were custom carved for his face, and only let light in through two thin slits in front of his eyes. He had a fire starting kit that consisted of a waterproof pouch with flint and tinder.

He received a wool blanket with a slit in the center that allowed him to wear it like a huge shirt.

His clothes were a long, thin coat of undyed linen, thin linen pants, a long-sleeved linen shirt, and his woven stick hat.

Ezhno spent hours teaching him how to tie proper trail master knots, various ways to put up his shade cloth, how to ration his water, and hundreds of other details.

They repeated their trek around the city, but they started in the evening and finished when the stars were bright. It took less than two hours, and Mato barely touched his water. In the cold of the desert night he decided he loved his boots. Particularly when they returned home, and his feet were still healthy.

And of course there was sword training. And wrestling, knife fighting, and the addition of archery practice. Ezhno claimed to be a merely competent archer, but he could place six arrows in the center of a target from fifty paces. Mato struggled to hit the target at all from twenty-five paces. He would have put extra practice in with the bow, but Ezhno kept him busy from before dawn until late at night.

Every few days they met with one of the other trail masters, and Mato would spar with them. From these experiences he quickly learned two things. First, Ezhno was an exceptional fighter. Second, he learned that he had a very long way to go.

* * *

When he had been with Ezhno for two moons the teacher pulled him aside. “You need to visit your mother. Spend the day with her. Talk to her. Tell her we will be leaving on our first expedition together in a week.

“But Mato, you have learned things that are heresies. You must protect your mother from these things. She will be here in Abo while you are gone, and if she lets the wrong word slip in front of the wrong person, she can be horribly punished. Say nothing about your training, except for the most vague generalities.”

Mato swallowed. “I understand.”

They had learned that Tevi’s father had, in fact, received a visit from Sotsona. The king had looked at his sword, then shattered it and expelled Tevi’s father from the city guard. Everyone seemed to think that Sotsona had been merciful in his judgment.

There was no way Mato would expose Mother to that kind of risk.

It was worse than he imagined. The whole family was there. Both of his sisters, all three of his brothers, their spouses and children, plus aunts, uncles, and their families.

The difference in style was a little shocking. Ezhno’s house was a bit gloomy by comparison to his childhood home. Mother had bright colors everywhere, and many more skylights. Mato wished he could go through his old routine of feeding the animals, but his nieces, nephews, and cousins all wanted to know about his training.

He tried to put them off by saying that trail lore was only for trail masters, but Mother and the other adults chided him for being secretive.

“Come now, Mato. No one is trying to make you talk about secret things, but surely there are things you can say. How is your training? What sorts of things are you learning? When is your first adventure? Share with us, we are interested in your life and excited for your success.”

“I know, Mother, and I am grateful for everyone’s support. Particularly yours. Please don’t think ill of me. I am trying to honor my family, my oaths, and the wishes of my teachers.”

It turned out that was the wrong thing to say. The kids all wanted to know what an oath was, and then they begged him to repeat his oaths. He felt bad that there were no oaths, but eventually he just made one up and taught it to them.

“I, Mato Stone Foot, swear by my life that I will protect the sacred knowledge given to me. No force will ever drag it between my lips. May death take me should I ever falter.”

They ate eggs, fruits, vegetables, roasted cavi and quail, and sang songs together. Despite the constant pressure to say something interesting he had a wonderful day.

When the last of the family left, Mato turned to his mother and embraced her. “Thank you for having me today.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mato. You are always welcome in our home.”

They sat at the kitchen table.

“Did you find good help?”

“I did. I hired two young women and an old man. Business is up enough to cover their pay, and we get along very well together.”

“That makes me glad.”

The air puffed across his neck, and he spun from the chair, sweeping up a knife and facing the door. Ezhno slipped in and smiled at him.

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“Good reflexes, Mato.” He turned to Mother. “How did he do?”

“Mostly good, but he made up some oath about never revealing the sacred secrets he had been given.”

Ezhno shook his head sadly. “Mato, Mato, Mato. That is no way to keep a secret. What is the right way?”

“You put them up to questioning me all day long?”

“Of course. I promised three gold pieces to anyone who could break you. But you didn’t answer my question.”

“I got rattled and couldn’t think of what to say. I’d already told them not to ask me such things.”

“And the answer to my question?”

Mato felt his shoulders sag. “Don’t let them know there is a secret. Just talk about mundane things until they get bored and go away.”

Mother reached over the table and squeezed his hand. “Don’t be too depressed. We really are very proud of you.”

“Thank you, Mother.”

* * *

He expected a lesson on proper secret keeping on the way home. Instead Ezhno surprised him.

“I have let the rest of the trail masters know that you are my heir. Should anything happen to me, you are to inherit my home and everything I own.”

“What?”

Ezhno chuckled. “I have never trained an apprentice before. You’ve made the experience quite enjoyable.”

“Never? That doesn’t make any sense. You’re a great teacher.”

Ezhno patted his back. “Thank you, Mato. It’s kind of you to say, but I have many improvements in mind for my next student.”

“Well, I suppose that makes sense,” Mato said. “We always get better as we practice, but I never suspected I was your first student. You must be a genius.”

Ezhno laughed loudly. “Now you’re laying it on too thick.”

They walked a few paces in silence before Ezhno continued.

“I was an orphan. And a difficult child. Families took me in, but they always sent me to someone else after a few weeks. For a while I lived in empty rooms around the city. I don’t know exactly how old I am, but when I was about twelve a kind man took me in. His wife had recently died in childbirth, and he thought we could help each other.

“I made his life miserable. I fought him, sometimes physically. I fought the other children in our neighborhood. I was beaten more than once for trying to peek up women’s skirts. I drank, smoked, and picked pockets.

“That man disciplined me carefully and patiently. He bailed me out of prison. He accepted beatings on my behalf. I don’t know how many times he saved my life.

“He could have remarried. I know he wished to, but I was too vicious. There was no woman who would live in the same house with me.

“It is a strange thing, what makes people turn one direction or another. Sometimes I would hear him crying after a particularly bad fight, and I would hate him because he was weak.

“One day he brought a beautiful woman home. He told me her name was Teha, and that they wanted to marry. I listened, and when she was in a room without him I attacked her. I kissed her, and grabbed her breasts.

“When Allo responded to her screams we fought. It was vicious. I clawed one of his eyes, and kicked him in the balls. He struck me and knocked me unconscious. The eye never healed properly.

“When I woke, they were in the next room arguing. She said she loved him, and wanted to marry him, but he had to pick between me and her.

“He said he could not do that. He said I had been abandoned many times, and that was why I was so wounded. He would never leave me, he said.

“So she left him, and I tried to stab him in his sleep. I cut his arm deeply, and once again he punished me, but carefully and without anger.

“I ran into Teha the following day; literally crashed into her in the market. I fell and hit my head, and the coins I had grabbed rolled out of my hand. I was barely conscious, and I couldn’t get away.

“Teha talked the guards out of taking me, and she paid the shopkeeper a bit to ease his anger. She said Allo was the best man in the city, and that she desperately loved him. She would love me too, she said, but she needed to feel safe in her own home. If I would promise to treat her properly, she would marry Allo and take care of both of us.

“So I promised. And they married. Then I broke my promise. It was just impulses that I felt I could not control. I would try to kiss her, or grab her, and she would very firmly tell me no. Then she would tell Allo, he would punish me. Sometimes I was locked in my room for a day. Sometimes I was not allowed to eat dinner. A few times he had the guards discipline me.

“Don’t put yourself in a position to be disciplined by the guards. Once they put me in a box and left me in the sun for several hours. Another time they put me in stocks and made passersby throw rotten produce at me. The punishments were always different, but always brutal.

“Slowly, over a number of years I learned to control myself. Allo and I stopped fighting. Sometimes Teha would ruffle my hair. Sometimes the three of us would smile and laugh together. Then one morning she did not wake up.

“Allo was inconsolable. I saw him in the kitchen one morning holding a knife to his neck. Eventually he put it down and whispered that he could not leave Ezhno.

“From there I went from not fighting him to actively helping him. I tried everything I could think of to help him. It didn’t really work. He appreciated my efforts, but he was always sad.

“When I was old enough, Allo gave me my forest blade and told me to apply for a position with the guards. I was jubilant. A spirit blade of my own, and a career that mattered. I could give back some of what I had taken from Abo.

“The guards turned me away. I sat outside the gate all day, periodically asking if they had changed their minds. I went home that evening and explained things to Allo. He suggested I try again. Perhaps they would value persistence.

“On the fourth day they beat me.

“On the fifth day they beat me severely, and said if I ever returned they would beat me to death.

“Allo listened to my story, put salve on my back, and then sat thinking all evening. In the morning he left me to do the chores and disappeared. After a few hours he returned with Trail Master Milap.

“Milap took me on as his apprentice. He was an awful teacher. Kind and patient, but unable to explain anything using words. However, he did have the crucial quality of perseverance. Like Allo, he never gave up on me.

“Allo died about a year ago, and I have not worked since. When I began to feel better, I went to the academy--usually we pick a senior student and train them. It saves teaching many of the most basic lessons.

“When I got close, I saw you leaving, and I was compelled to offer you the apprenticeship. It was completely unplanned, which tells you why I did not have a good introduction prepared.”

He paused, gathering his thoughts for several paces. “I am gratified that you find value in my instruction, but please do not think too highly of me. I do not deserve it.”

Mato walked beside his teacher, thinking about the story. It was a vastly different origin than he’d expected. It at least partially explained why Ezhno lived alone, and had no heir selected. Thinking back on it, Ezhno was always careful to keep some space between himself and any women in the area. He still had urges, and he was being careful to keep them locked up.

It was also a shockingly vulnerable position for Ezhno to put himself in. If Mato told that story, it could severely damage Ezhno’s reputation. Who knew what a priest would make of it?

It seemed clear that Ezhno was looking for another Allo. Not literally, but another person in his life who knew his struggles, and still accepted him.

Mato nodded to himself, then reached over and ruffled Ezhno’s hair.

Ezhno laughed softly and patted Mato’s back.

“Thank you, Mato.”