Tully was not at all what Mr. Chubs had thought he would be. He had assumed him to be a slovenly idiot who was creating mischief simply because he could. He had dreaded that Tully would start needling him about Arthur Uriel Banes the minute he got a chance. But the boy seemed content to be just his apprentice. Slowly he realized, as the days turned into weeks and weeks into four months, all Tully was really interested in…was knowing stories.
And if Mr. Chubs was surprised by Tully, to say his father, Gregor, was confounded would not be an understatement. So great was his surprise to see his only son showing interest in something other than drinking, he hadn’t sought to steer him to a more appropriate vocation. In fact, Gregor rather liked the idea of the notoriety that this would bring to his name: that Tully, his son, was involved in precisely the activity that could have led to a gruesome death during the reign of Reifire.
Once he had gotten over the surprise, Mr. Chubs found he quite enjoyed having an apprentice. He had never thought about the longevity of his stories. He had only thought about the now, and how he could pass on his stories to maximum people – and get them to once again be okay with storytellers and books. It had ached him to know how fearful the general populace had become of them. But Harkness was a courageous town and bore its differences like armour.
The apprenticeship wasn’t all smooth sailing though. Unlike Mr. Chubs’ stories that were veiled and shrouded and layered with metaphors and symbols so folks couldn’t trace the historical event the story was inspired from, Tully was determined to tell his stories with as little embellishments as he could get away it. He wanted his prose to be real and hit hard, and he wanted to do it unapologetically.
Their difference in storytelling soon became a bone of contention between master and apprentice and it came to a head one afternoon when Mr. Chubs had to go to the local guardhouse to pay for his release. Apparently, he had conveyed an explicit rendition of the relations that had existed between Reifire’s queen and one of her bodyguards and how such a relationship may have pushed Reifire to his madness.
He had wanted to wait. He hadn’t wanted to begin their shouting match, for they would be shouting of this Mr. Chubs was sure, until they had reached the room Tully’s father had graciously allotted him.
But Tully was young, impatient and ashamed that his master had had to use his own gold to secure his release. And in that shame, he lashed out, uncaring of his audience, or the crowded marketplace.
“You taught me the power of stories. You taught me that it was essential for our ilk to not be afraid, to not cower behind…”
“I also,” said Mr. Chubs, red face an inch from Tully’s, spitting with his own anger, “did not teach you to be a stupid, idiot of a boy.”
Tully recoiled like he had been slapped. But instead of feeling chastised, he was incensed. “You are a hypocrite.” His voice had gone deadly quiet not because he didn’t want the people surrounding them to hear, but because he didn’t want to be accused of being a child again.
Mr. Chubs took a breath, mindful of the small crowd their fight had attracted. “Not here,” he said through gritted teeth. Without looking back, he walked away. It had been the bravest and the stupidest thing he had ever done.
The two marched to the house and to Mr. Chub’s room. Tully’s mother would have interrupted had she not seen the black anger hovering between the two. She was well-acquainted with men and their anger and saw no point in intervening. Besides, it wasn’t her job to discipline Tully. That duty belonged to his father and now his master.
Before the door closed behind them, Mr. Chubs had caught hold of Tully’s collar. Though his voice was low and he maintained a distance between them, the anger and fear were clear on his face.
“Stories are meant to provoke. They’re meant to allow people the room to think and come to their own conclusions. They’re not meant to tell them what is right and wrong. Have you learnt nothing from me, boy?”
That insult again. Tully brought his hands up and caught Mr. Chubs’ wrists. He squeezed, hoping for a reaction. There was none. He let go. “You are a coward. You hide behind your pretty words. You hide the truth behind silly fripperies that make it impossible to sieve out the truth. What point are such stories then? You say you tell stories to get folken to think yet you don’t have the courage to openly condemn that which is not right.”
Mr. Chubs staggered back like he had been whipped across the back. He said, “I have no need of an apprentice anymore. You’re free of me. I’ll empty…”
Tully made a noise deep in his throat. It was a noise of despair. “You cannot leave me. Not now. I have much to learn from you still.”
His face turned to one of bitter triumph. “As you have just pointed out, I have nothing left to teach you. I will leave, tonight.”
As undignified as it was, Tully went to his master and caught his wrist. He did not squeeze for fear he’ll hurt him in earnest. There were already angry red rings around them. “Where will you go?” He sounded much like a boy just then.
He was gentle, incongruously so, as he released his wrist from Tully’s hand. He had tears in his eyes. Once again he had allowed himself to get close. He had truly learnt nothing from all the ordeals life had put him through.
“I will take your leave Master Tully for I need to bid farewell to your parents. I will be gone within the hour.”
But Tully got the last word in, twisting the knife he had already embedded in their relationship. “You’re running away is what you’re doing. Don’t for a second think you’re making a tactful retreat. You’re not. You have become so used to running, you no longer know it is yourself you’re running away from.”
If only Tully knew how close to the truth he had come. Mr. Chubs bowed, as if he had not heard Tully’s words, and left.
This is Chapter 6 of 26 of The Travelling Librarian series. Written as part of #BlogchatterA2Z.
Psst: I also have 2 ebooks on Kindle – and if you’re on Kindle Unlimited, they’re free!
- Read The Gunslinger here.
- Read 23 Letters of Love here.
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