Chapter 31 : Can we buy a horse?
Fortunately, he isn't as late as he thought, but Betty still looks annoyed by the slight delay. He spends his time cleaning out the stables and brushing her down, getting a sharp, passing remark from her for his trouble.
Once he finishes the work, William walks out into the center of the main room. He finds Trojjan dealing with a customer. Noticing William, Trojjan quickly wraps up the trade, passes a small sachet to the customer, and turns his attention to the boy.
“Come on, lad. It's time for your first lesson,” Trojjan says, reaching down to pull something out from under the counter.
“Aren't we going to start tomorrow?” William asks, surprised.
“There is no better time to start something than now,” Trojjan replies. He lifts a large, shallow wooden box filled with loose soil and sand onto the counter, then gives William a questioning look. “Unless you don't want to.”
William hurriedly runs toward the counter and stands next to Trojjan, who is holding a small stick.
“Today I am going to teach you about all the syllables,” Trojjan says, gesturing to the box. “You are going to practice with them on this for the next week, and you can ask me questions when we have free time. Okay?”
William nods his head quickly, a look of pure excitement in his eyes. The eager expression makes Trojjan chuckle a bit.
Looking around the shop, William hesitates. “Are you sure we should do it here? What if customers come?”
“I am sure nobody is going to come. Afternoons are usually slow,” Trojjan replies, already dragging the tip of the stick through the sand. “There are a total of twenty-four syllables in the Orden language.”
After a two-hour teaching session, William and Trojjan finally sit down at the table to eat. William doesn't know why, but the same old vegetable porridge tastes much better than usual.
Four more weeks pass in a blur of routine. Juggling his daily chores—sweeping the shop floor, hauling water, and taking care of Betty—with his reading lessons doesn't leave William much time for anything else. The weather turns colder, making the stone floor freeze his feet right through his boots, but he still spends his spare moments tracing the twenty-four syllables of the Orden language into the sandbox.
Across the street, William barely sees John anymore. As construction on the new forge finishes, the man stays buried under a massive influx of orders due to a city-wide shortage of tools and weapons. He pulls constant double shifts, the distant ring of his hammer serving as the background noise to William’s days.
The only real change happens behind the counter. Trojjan finally lets William talk to the customers, though the old man’s trust only goes so far. He still refuses to let William retrieve or pass him anything from the inventory shelves, watching the boy closely during every transaction.
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However, today is different. In the early morning, before the shop even opens, a loud knock rattles the front door. William, who is just coming out from the backyard after his first stable cleaning, heads over and swings it open.
Before he can properly see who it is, something barrels straight into his chest. The air gets squeezed right out of his lungs by a tiny force of nature.
“How are you? You know I missed you so much!”
William blinks down to see Emma burying her face in his shirt, hugging him with terrifying strength. A sudden realization hits him: They came back to see me.
A massive smile breaks across his face, and he gently strokes Emma's hair. “I missed you too. And everyone else.”
Looking up, his eyes find Uncle Rob, who stands in the doorway with a warm smile, watching the two of them. “Emma, leave William alone, or you are going to break his ribs.”
Uncle Rob enters the shop as Emma finally releases her grip, giving William a chance to catch his breath.
“Hello, Uncle,” William says, looking past him into the street. A hint of sadness creeps into his voice. “Are you two the only ones who came?”
“No, everyone came to see you,” Rob replies, bending down to look William directly in the eye. “They are all waiting at the inn. I came to get you alone, but Emma insisted on tagging along.”
William’s smile returns, wider than before, but a sudden realization dulls his happiness. “But... I have work today...”
“Take today off, lad.”
The grumpy, familiar voice cuts his protest short. Trojjan stands at the top of the stairs, looking down at them.
“But what about Betty...?” William asks hesitantly.
“She can manage for a day... at least,” Trojjan replies, though he sounds incredibly unsure of his own words. “And yeah, take this.”
He tosses a small leather pouch down toward William, who catches it out of the air. It jingles loudly with the weight of dozens of coins.
“Your pay for this month,” Trojjan says. “I changed it to copper, just like you asked.”
William looks at the heavy pouch, feeling a deep sense of gratitude. “Thank you.”
Trojjan just hums in response. He gives Rob a polite nod, turns around, and walks back upstairs to brew his medicines.
“Who is Betty?” Emma asks, tugging on William's sleeve.
William glances up at the empty staircase to make sure Trojjan is completely out of earshot, then looks back down at his little sister with a mischievous grin. “Betty is the real owner of this shop. Come on, let's go meet her.”
The moment she lays eyes on the stable, her jaw drops. “Wow… A pretty horse! She’s so pretty!”
“Her name is Betty,” William corrects her with a grin, guiding his little sister closer to the stall.
Betty watches them approach, her ears swiveling as she sizes up the new visitor. Ordinarily, the white mare acts like a snobbish queen around strangers, but as Emma reaches out a tiny, hesitant hand, Betty lowers her head. She lets out a soft puff of air and actually allows Emma to stroke her perfectly groomed, glossy mane.
William watches in relief, though he swears the mare gives him a sharp, knowing look right after. It is the exact look Betty gives him when she expects her stall to be perfectly clean. You can go for the day, the look seems to say, but you are working twice as hard tomorrow.
“Alright, Emma, time to go,” William says, gently pulling at her sleeve. “The rest of the family is waiting at the inn.”
“No! Just five more minutes!” Emma protests, her fingers buried in the mare's white mane. She completely refuses to let go, forcing Uncle Rob to step in, laughingly pry her away, and drag her out of the shop while she looks back longingly at the stable.
As they walk down the bustling city street, Emma looks up at her father, her eyes wide. In a completely innocent voice, she asks, “Daddy, can we buy a horse?”
Uncle Rob just sighs, shaking his head, while William bursts out laughing