“Just because he had dogs back then doesn’t mean he would still have dogs,” argued Will. Though it is a good idea. Putting that aside, he had to admit it seemed unlikely it was the same person living here back then. People just didn’t live that long. “I’ll ask him about it later.”
“Be careful,” warned Eric. Sammy nodded in agreement beside him. Both their faces displayed worry.
“Careful of what?” said Will dismissively.
“Remember what we talked about before?” reminded Eric. “He might be a warlock.”
Will laughed. “He’s a grumpy old bastard, but I don’t think so.”
Sammy grabbed his hand. “He might be fattening you up for later.”
“I doubt it,” said Will confidently. “Aside from eggs, I’ve never seen him eat anything that didn’t grow out of the ground.”
“As a sacrifice,” added Sammy, wrinkling her nose.
“Well he’s got a strange way of doing it, then,” said Will. “His favorite punishment is not letting me eat. I’ve missed dinner twice this month because of that.”
“Maybe his demon likes skinny virgins,” suggested Eric.
“Then you should probably get out of here,” returned Will with a sly grin. “He’ll want to capture both of you.”
Eric sniffed, lifting his chin haughtily. “I don’t have to worry for long. Annabelle let me dance with her at the harvest festival.”
Sammy’s features grew angry. “I’m telling her you said that!”
“I did dance with her!” insisted Eric.
“No, I’m telling her what you meant. She’ll never talk to you again if she hears what you said!” declared Sammy.
Will listened to them bicker without interrupting. It made him feel good to hear their voices, and sad at the same time. Especially the part about the harvest festival. He had completely forgotten it, and it sounded as though Annabelle had forgotten him as well.
His cousins stayed another quarter of an hour, chatting and filling him in on the doings of Barrowden. When they finally left, he felt more alone than ever, and it was hard to get back to his fractions. Math seemed pointless to him. What use did anyone have for numbers, aside from being able to count?
When his grandfather showed up that evening, he seemed to be in a good mood, until he saw the cot. “What the hell is that?”
“A cot,” answered Will simply.
“I can see that, dumbass! Where did it come from?” demanded the old man.
His grandfather’s angry reaction sent a quick surge of adrenaline through Will, and the flame on his candle began to flicker wildly. “E—Eric brought it for me.”
“Eric? Who’s that?”
“My cousin,” explained Will. He doesn’t know anything about my family, does he? Will realized.
“Why did he bring it?” asked his grandfather, his tone more even now.
“Because I told him I’ve been sleeping on the floor. I’ll freeze this winter if I have to keep doing that.”
That brought the old man up short. “You don’t have a bed?”
Will just stared at him as if he’d gone mad. Then he spread his arms wide, gesturing at the small room as if to say, ‘do you see a bed?’
“Oh,” said his grandfather. “No, of course you don’t. I had completely forgotten. Next time remind me. You shouldn’t take things from strangers. Did you pay him anything?”
“Eric isn’t a stranger. He’s my cousin.”
“Strangers, family, friends, it’s all the same,” insisted the hermit. “From now on, you are to take nothing from anyone without paying. Do you understand?”
Will did not understand. Family was how one survived, at least as he understood it, but he simply answered, “I don’t have any money.”
His grandfather nodded. “Then you take nothing.” He paused then, staring at the cot. “Still, you’re right. You can’t keep sleeping on the floor. How much do you think a cot is worth?”
“Eric doesn’t want money for it,” insisted Will.
The old man fixed him with a hard stare. “Listen up. I’m not going to repeat this a third time. From this day forward, you accept nothing without paying or trading something of equal value. As long as you’re my apprentice, you will owe nothing, you will accept no debts. Consider it part of your training.”
Will was staring into the corner, muttering angrily to himself. “He’s crazy, absolutely nutters…”
His grandfather disappeared into his room for a moment and returned with his hand outstretched, a gold coin in his palm. “This should cover it.”
Will’s eyes bulged. A single gold crown was worth dozens of cots—hell, it might be worth more than the hermit’s entire ramshackle dwelling. He reached for the coin, but the old man snatched it back.
“What did I just tell you?”
He stared at the old man in confusion.
“Accept no debts!” said his grandfather emphatically. “Tomorrow you’ll take the axe and saw and go cut wood. You’ll do so every day until you’ve cut enough to last us the entire winter. Then I’ll give you the coin, which you will take to pay your cousin for his generous gift.”
The payment was far more than the work was worth. “A cot isn’t worth an entire gold crown,” said Will at last.
“It is to a man about to freeze to death,” said his grandfather.
Chapter 11
It took Will nearly two weeks to cut enough wood to satisfy his lunatic grandfather. During that time, he was still expected to keep up his reading practice in mornings, arithmetic in the evening, and as always, he was not allowed to leave the candle behind at any time.
The old man did give him one break, though. He didn’t make Will cook during that period, and he got his first real chance to try his grandfather’s cooking, which was a revelation in and of itself. The first meal the old man made was a simple affair; roasted carrots, peas, sliced radishes, and an assortment of greens.
It didn’t look like much, though it was arranged artistically on the plate, but the first bite to reach his tongue told a different story. “Wow!” exclaimed Will. “Oh, wow! What did you do to it to make it taste like this?”
“Not much,” said his grandfather nonchalantly. “A little oil and vinegar for the greens. The peas I blanched and sautéed with butter. Most importantly, I didn’t cook the carrots into flavorless mush as you seem so fond of doing.”
For the first time, the hermit’s complaints about Will’s cooking made sense. If this was what his grandfather expected, then what Will had been giving him wasn’t much better than pig slop. He cleaned his plate and was delighted when he was given more. His compliments seemed to sit well with the old man.
After he finished he sat back, feeling replete with food and warm in the heat coming from the hearth. He almost didn’t mind the fact that his entire body was sore from chopping and hauling wood. Relaxed, he asked a question, “Why don’t you get a dog?”
The hermit looked quizzically at him. “A dog?”
“You’re always fussing about the deer getting into the garden. A dog would solve that,” offered Will.