Firebrand

Silver Friends

Solday meant Martel returned to the workshops, though he had to work the first bell for free. Taking advantage of Master Jerome's good will and sympathies, he convinced the artificer to let him work another bell, bringing up his acquired fortunes to eight pieces of silver.

Working his daily shift in the apothecary, Martel thought about how much faster it would be if Mistress Rana paid him. She had once given him two silvers per bell he had worked, back when he laboured to make the cures for consumption. Even if she only paid half that, same as Master Jerome, it would still be a silver piece every day.

Eyeing Nora, Martel wondered if he should broach the subject with her first, before he risked displeasing Mistress Rana. "Nora, I was wondering. What does it pay to be the apprentice of an alchemist?"

"It pays pretty well," she admitted with a wink. "I get paid two eagles for every bell, and I only have to work four bells a day. It may not sound like a lot, but since I get free room and board, it's not a bad deal."

While Martel never spent time with Nora outside the apothecary, they did spend two hours every day in each other's company, and she seemed to like him well enough. Perhaps even so much as to share some of her wealth. "You must be able to save up a nice sum here and there."

She gave a shrug as she continued measuring powder into little vials. "My parents are poor, and they have six other children to feed. I send nearly all my money to them."

Right. Not everyone at the Lyceum came from a wealthy background, as Martel should know. His was not the only family with money trouble. Back to his first idea. "Do you think there's a chance Mistress Rana will begin paying me?"

"Sure, though it depends. She can't take you on as her apprentice. Guild rules forbid an alchemist from having more than one at a time. They don't want too many competitors," she grinned. "She'll probably pay you as a helper at some point, but usually she only accepts acolytes for that. Just the fact she took you on as a novice is unusual, though I guess it helped that you were older."

Well, Martel could not wait until he was an acolyte. He would have to go elsewhere.

~

Taking a break from work and concerns about money, Martel left the Lyceum and set a course for the Khivan enclave. At least winter brought one benefit. Campaign season had ended, and the war with Khiva had entered hibernation until spring. Without reports of battles and casualties, tension between Asterians and Khivans in Morcaster had simmered down, and Martel could once again spend time with Shadi regularly. He still struggled with how exactly he felt about her; there had been nobody like her back in Engby, so he did not have much to compare with. But he knew that her company made him happy, and he cherished every source of that elusive feeling.

Martel knocked on the door to the workshop, and when Shadi opened, she pulled back to make room for him to enter. "Come inside and see something impressive," she told him.

Gladly, he stepped inside. He undid his cloak and placed it over the back of a chair before following Shadi to the inner room of the workshop where her father sat at work. "Sure we should disturb?" he mumbled, seeing Master Farhad carefully using his tools on something minuscule.

"It's fine, I told him you were coming. Dad?" she added with a loud voice. "Martel is here."

The watchmaker made some incomprehensible sounds, put his tools down, and turned on his stool to look at the guest. "Boy with magic. How is your clock?"

"It's very good, master. Runs perfectly."

He gave a sly smile. "Almost better than magic, no? Look here." He held out his hand, showing a small, round metal disc. "All made by hand, no magic. Enough of these little things, and I have made the smallest clock. Now, for your friend, I make another." Master Farhad gestured towards his workbench, which held several wooden plates that Martel recognised would serve as the cabinet of the watch, same as his own.

"Very impressive, master. Once others hear of this, they will want one as well," the novice speculated.

"Hope so. Useful that my daughter knows you. You and your wealthy friends."

"Dad, don't embarrass him," Shadi chastised the old man. "Come, let's leave him to his work," she added to Martel. "I could use some air, I haven't been outside all day."

~

Once they both were properly attired for the cold weather, they left the workshop and wandered around the neighbourhood. "Not a lot of people outside," Martel remarked as they crossed the square with its little temple and fountain. "When it really gets cold, this place must be deserted."

"Yeah, that's part of it, but also just a lot of people have left. I think half the houses in the district now are empty. A lot left around harvest," Shadi explained. "While it was busy with ships going to Sindhu and such."

"That's a shame. Well, I'm glad you and your father are staying."

She smiled. "Me too. Anyway, what's new with you?"

"Not much. Well, I did get a letter from my mum. My brother is sick, has been for a while. I wish I could go see him, but the journey takes far too long."

"I'm so sorry to hear that." Her voice expressed the same sympathy as her expression. "Is he getting better? Any good apothecaries in the town who can help?"

"They sought an alchemist who is making a remedy," Martel related. "I'm doing extra work to gather some money and help pay for it. My mum said to send it with the post as a silver letter, but I have no idea what that actually is."

"Oh, it's actually quite clever. My dad did that long ago, sending money to relatives in Khiva. Obviously, before the war. I wasn't very old, but I still remember, he took me with him to the post clerk."

"But how does it work? If you put the money in the letter, anyone can feel the coins inside. Won't they just get stolen?"

"Nah, you Asterians are smarter than that." She laughed a little. "You deliver the money to their office here, and you write down the recipient and where they live. Just the note gets sent by the post, and once delivered to your mum, she can hand it in and get the money. Don't worry, it works."

Martel nodded to himself. "Guess I have a silver letter to send."