The Brave Apprentice Read Free Page B

believe.”
    “Well,” Bernard said, piping up again, “it
was
a particularly old and feeble troll. And lame. Full of maggots, nearly dead …”
    Patch was watching Addison carefully. His face hardly changed expression. But with the subtlest shifts—his eyes narrowing slightly, his nostrils dilating a fraction of an inch—he directed his gaze on Bernard in a way that made the innkeeper’s jaw snap shut before another word could spill out. “Innkeeper, perhaps you should busy yourself preparing our rooms and our meals,” Addison said quietly.
    Bernard’s ears turned red. “Of course, your lordship.” He shuffled out of the room. The moment he passed through the doorway and disappeared, Patch could hear the sound of coins being emptied from the bag into Bernard’s palm.
    “And some ales while you’re at it!” shouted the burly one after the innkeeper.
    “Right!” Bernard called back, his voice cracking. There came the sound of coins hitting the floor, followed by muffled cursing.
    Addison exhaled loudly, drew out a chair, and sat atone of the tables. He pulled the gloves off his hands, finger by finger. “Young tailor, please tell me that you are not as talkative as that innkeeper.”
    “No, my lord,” said Patch. “I mean yes. I mean I’m not.”
    “I’m glad. Now come over here and tell us: Did you really kill that troll?”
    “I did, my lord. At least, I knocked him into the river, where he was trapped under the roots of a tree and drowned. Although I believe the troll would have died soon anyway. He was old and very sick.”
    Addison brushed his rusty beard with the back of his hand. “An honest answer. And is it true that there was an old man with you, a friend you were trying to save?”
    “Yes, my lord,” Patch said softly.
    The younger of the knights sat down beside Patch. “That must have been quite an adventure, boy. Not everyone who confronts a troll is so lucky.” A shadow crossed the young knight’s face suddenly. He looked anxiously at Addison, as if he might have offended him somehow.
    Addison’s expression did not alter, and he waved his hand. “Never mind, Gosling.”
    The burly knight approached, holding something that might have been mistaken for a square of leather, but it was a couple of inches thick. Patch recognized it for what it was: a piece of hide that Bernard had taken from the drowned troll. “Have you seen this, Lord Addison?” he said, handing it to the rust-bearded nobleman.
    Addison took the hide in his own hands, hefting itand running his fingers across the pebbly outer surface.
    “It’s very tough,” Patch said. “It took Bernard a long time to saw it off.”
    Addison offered Patch a frosty sideways glance. He passed the hide to Gosling, saying, “We should take this as well. It would be difficult for an arrow to pierce all the way through, wouldn’t it?” Gosling nodded.
    The door to the kitchen banged open, and Bernard returned bearing a tray with three mugs. He put these down on the table where Addison sat, then tucked the tray under his arm and stood there, rocking on the balls of his feet and glancing nervously toward the piece of troll hide.
    “Something to eat, if you please,” said Addison. “For us and the boy. Then you will kindly leave us be.” Bernard looked down at Patch, offered a fleeting, fraudulent smile to Lord Addison and the knights, and then left the room again, muttering when he thought he was beyond earshot. Gosling laughed and leaned back in his chair. “What a charming fellow. Don’t you think, Mannon?”
    The burly knight snorted. “Northerners.”
    “Your name is Patch, is that correct?” asked Addison.
    “Yes, my lord.”
    “I will get directly to the heart of the matter. My name is Lord Addison. My companions here are Gosling and Mannon.” The two men nodded at their introductions, Gosling with a smile and Mannon with a grunt. “Word of your encounter with the troll has reached Dartham,and King Milo has taken a