Chapter Four
Motley Opinions
Water thundered over the large wooden wheel, thrusting it forward and causing the axle to spin. Eramus watched the pit wheel begin to turn, followed by the wallower and great spur. The entire mechanism was a marvel to him. Each piece worked in harmony with the others, all for the single purpose of grinding wheat. Even though his abilities allowed him to do what many considered the impossible, the ingenuity of man always impressed him. Grinding grain by hand required far more manpower and time than allowing the river to do the work for them.
He watched each of the cogs spin while he waited for Ordin to reach the third floor. The man's shadow moved across the upper level and stopped in front of the grain feeder. Ordin leaned over the rail and waved down to him. "All right!" he yelled over the roar of the waterwheel. "Send up the first sack!"
Eramus pulled hard on the rope that wrapped over a pulley, lifting a large sack of wheat into the air. The bag ascended higher with each tug until it reached the granary. Ordin gripped the burlap and guided it to the floor before untying the rope.
"Next sack!" he shouted, the sound muffled against the boom of the water.
Eramus tied another bag to the rope and pulled until the wheat reached Ordin's level. They repeated this process for nearly an hour, sending twenty sacks to the third floor.
"Give me a few minutes to get everything ready," said Ordin, cupping his hands to either side of his mouth so Eramus could hear him over the noise.
Eramus plopped down on the floor. His arms burned, and his chest heaved with each gasp. He could have easily lifted those sacks of grain with his magic, but how would Ordin have responded? Every villager he passed this morning on his way to the mill had given him suspicious looks. Some had even ducked inside their homes upon spotting him.
None of this came as a surprise. Eramus knew the people would fear his powers, and he couldn't blame them. Even he didn't know what he was fully capable of.
He leaned back, propping his body up with his arms. Ordin moved briskly across the upper level, positioning the sacks before they would begin grinding the wheat into flour. For the past two years, Eramus had worked as Ordin’s apprentice. The man claimed three decades of expertise as a miller and garnered great respect from the community. This apprenticeship was an honorable position that would provide a comfortable future for Eramus.
But his actions had placed that in jeopardy. This morning, Ordin had greeted him in his usual cheerful manner, but Eramus could sense the emotions the man attempted to hide. His eyes held what appeared to be sympathy, but they left Eramus unsettled, and he couldn't shake the feeling that revealing his magic would have severe repercussions on his future livelihood. Perhaps he should use his power to help with their work? If the people saw him continually using it for good, they might be more accepting.
"Ready?" Ordin's dulled voice barely made it to Eramus's ears.
He stood and brushed the dirt from his brown trousers before climbing the stairs to the second floor. "Ready!" he called back, resolving to push the negative thoughts from his mind. He could speak to Ordin about his powers later. Right now, they had work to do.
Eramus positioned several casks near the millstones. Ordin filled the chute with grain, and in minutes, Eramus was scooping the fine powder into the cask. The process took several hours, and by the time they had ground all the grain, five barrels of flour rested beside him. Eramus began hauling them to the ground floor to a separate storage room while Ordin cleaned the upper level. They met outside when their tasks were completed.
Ordin stretched and released a lazy yawn. "Good work today." He flashed a soft smile, but the sadness in his tone left Eramus uneasy again.
"I enjoy working with you. You've taught me much these last two years. I can never thank you enough for the opportunity."
The man stared at the ground, kicking at the dirt with the tip of his black boot. "I've enjoyed having you." His pause made Eramus's stomach knot. It was folly to hope the people would forgive his deceit. His actions threatened to pull everything he’d worked for out from under him. Perhaps being forced to leave would have been the better outcome.
Ordin sighed. "With all that has happened, I think it might be best for you to take some time off from the mill. I'm sure that's not what you want to hear, but I believe it's for the best. Just until things calm down, of course."
"Of course. I understand."
"No, I don't think you do." Ordin rested his hand on Eramus's shoulder. He tilted his head and his bushy mustache twitched with the lift of his mouth. "I voted for you to stay. I want to keep you on as my apprentice, but the people need time to see, to understand. You're a good man—magic powers or not. They will all come around; I'm certain of it."
"I hope you are right. This village is my life. I don't want to think about leaving, but…" Eramus ran his fingers through his hair. He didn't know what he would do if it came to that. Where would he go? How could he ever leave Inara?
"I'll have another large load of wheat to do next week. I'll expect you back then." Ordin slapped his hand against Eramus's shoulder. "And I'll also expect you to use your gift to help with the work. I thought you might do so today, even." Ordin gave him a pointed look.
Eramus laughed. "I had contemplated asking, but the last thing I wanted to do was make you uncomfortable."
"Uncomfortable? No, what makes me uncomfortable is the way this old back aches after moving sacks of grain around all day. If magic can alleviate that, then I'm all for it." He jerked his chin towards the village. "I've got a few things left to do here, but you head on back. I'll see you next week."
Eramus nodded. "Thank you. I'll be here."
Walking through his village with eyes and whispers following him only added to the mixture of emotions fighting for control. He was grateful that Ordin had not cut him off completely, but Eramus had hoped work would provide a welcome distraction from the constant looks of disapproval. Now he faced them with nothing to free his mind from the trepidation weighing on him.
He turned the corner of a large stone cottage and nearly collided with a young boy and his mother. "Forgive me," he said, reaching out to steady the child.
The woman gripped the boy's shoulders and yanked him backwards with wide eyes. The fear they held made his heart sink. Eramus had spent a decade hiding his powers for this very reason. People were always afraid of the unknown, of things they didn't understand, and his power certainly fit those categories. No matter how much good he did with his gift, it might never be enough to convince them he had no desire to hurt anyone.
His shoulders slumped as he watched their two figures disappear out of sight. People he'd known for years now treated him like a stranger, or worse, a criminal they couldn't trust. Eramus trudged to the edge of the clearing and sat down on the grass. He leaned against a thick oak and closed his eyes.
