Pursued - Entire book

Chapter 46

Klair stood in the shadows of the street and watched Bejja's woodshop for the entire morning as customers hurried in and out.

The shop's shutters opened to display wares and workers. The collection of bowls, tools, and furniture testified of the Bejja's flourishing skill as a wood crafter.

Klair breathed in the scent of woods permeating from the workshop, called The Whistler, and smiled.

Someone was laughing.

It appeared Bejja didn't train a single apprentice, but several with one girl apprentice with a voice the filled the room whenever she talked. A pang of jealously swelled within him. Whistling from the workers filled the workshop explaining the name of the shop.

If there was ever a man he had seen to be a real father, it had been Bejja—

Bejja had changed. His old mentor no longer moved about the shop with youthful vigor but moved more slowly with a bent back. Though age claimed him, his touch on the saw and blade were precise.

Certainly many wished to apprentice under him.

The employees where whistling an identical tune making the song into a form of a concert,.

Bejja loved music, even if he had to make it himself.

It's an infectious habit, he thought, recalling in his youth how men and women crafters took turns in whistling to entertain the others. Their actions gave the shop, The Whistler, its name. Customers lingered within for more than the crafts. There were signal whistles from the main carpenters asking someone else across the room to bring a needed tool. Each staff earned their own name whistle. Klair remembered the one Bejja had once assigned to him sounded like water rushing down a rocky brook.

While customers milled about the shop, his old mentor was busy sanding a beautiful figurine. He didn't have to hard sale his wares for his skills. The quality of each item was testimony enough. The noon break bell rang and customers quickly wrapped up their business and exited the premises. Now would be the time for Klair to approach his old mentor. He would like to avoid too much of an audience for his old reunion and he preferred that the other crafters were absent.

Suddenly, five men entered the shop. Four went about the premises ensuring there were no lingering staff or customers. The workers and clerks had gone to the back work area for their shared meal.

The fifth and biggest man approached Bejja.

Apparently they too waited for the shop to be at its most empty point of the day. Klair watched as his old mentor sighed wearily as the leader approached and stood opposite with only the worktable between them.

"Floren," Klair's old mentor accused, "you're making a nuisance of yourself.

"You've been unwilling to comply with our demands, Bejja. We've humored your defiance and it'll cost you. Now our promised payment is void. It's time for this shop to be managed by more youthful and suitable hands. We're taking possession." The man waved a fist, "Starting tomorrow, if we find you here...your life is forfeit."

Klair glared at the assembly of men. Bejja needs help.

He stepped forward and stopped. What could he do to help and not show weakness? He'd need to stand up to them. He could not be seen as an inexperienced wizard.

He had to be threatening, even if just pretend.

His mind raced across the images of everyone he knew or recently met. Who was the best example of calm confidence? His thoughts immediately turned to Elder Maken of Merrsain. He was respected and was one of the few men Constable Trenny feared.