The Wheelwright's Apprentice by James Burnett

for a moment. “Wouldn’t it take forever to get to one?”
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    Art knew that the Count was the one person he couldn’t refuse, so he said simply, “When do we leave, master?”
    The Count replied, “Tomorrow morning at eight. Right now I need you to go back and see Ingon again. I have already sent him a list of what you need. Bring only those clothes, and the face you are wearing. That’s it. Hurry up and get going.”
    Art was still having trouble adjusting to the Count’s abrupt manner, and also to all the continuous changes in his life. A holiday did not seem too bad, but Art was wary. Nothing in his life now was what it seemed. Still, something different from resetting bones and curing haemorrhoids was definitely welcome.
    The next morning, Art presented himself in the castle courtyard well before eight. He was wearing the clothes he had made the evening before, and his spares were in a saddlebag he had slung over his shoulder. He was glad he had not had to make that as well. He spent a quiet vigil waiting, and almost exactly at eight, the Count appeared along with Beech and another man who looked like he was a big, grizzled veteran soldier. He was introduced as “Arch”. They were all carrying saddlebags too.
    “Master,” Art asked. “Where are the horses?”
    “We won’t pick up the horses until we are over the border,” came the quick reply. “Now, take my hand.”
    Instantly they were on top of a stone slab in the middle of a forest clearing. Art’s mouth was wide open while the Count said, “Hurry up now. You need to memorize this place, and when you have done that you should run to catch us up. It’s two miles from here to the stables, and I don’t like the look of those clouds.” Art struggled to memorize the spot, and it took him several minutes to be mostly sure that he had it. When he had just got the others in sight, the Count glanced back to check on Art, and the Count was wearing a different face.
    Art had just received another jolt. He hurried to catch up to the Count, and when he did, he asked, “What did you do, master?”
    The Count looked at Art and said, “I forgot how ignorant you are. If you know where you want to be, and your Will is strong enough, it’s easily done. The strength of your Will determines how far you can go. We are already across the border into Hanpo. We only went a little bit over three hundred miles. Hanpo is my favourite of the neighbouring countries. It is the most similar to our happy kingdom of Galland.
    Art felt himself rocked back. He had been so ignorant he had never known the name of the country he had been born into and lived in! He stumbled on until they reached a small settlement. The Count strode forward with the confidence of familiarity, and they all had to shift smartly not to be left behind. When they reached the stables, the Count was already talking to the owner as if they were old acquaintances.
    “...got everything you asked for, My Lord. Six horses all in prime condition, two spare saddles, tack and feed. In all thirty golds, but you’ll want to see the horses first.”
    “No need”, the Count said, “We have known each other long enough.” He passed a purse to the ostler.
    Fifteen minutes later they were riding their horses along a track. The Count called Art to ride alongside him. The first question Art asked was, “Master, if we could travel so easily, why are we riding now?”
    longs14" align="justify"> The Count grunted, and replied, “Again I am reminded of how little you know. Travelling the way we did earlier using the Will only works when you are going to a spot that you have memorized. I have been using that spot for years. It is secluded, and no one is ever likely to see us pop into view. When you have the Will and travel to other countries, you run the risk of meeting other Will adepts. Usually they are very hostile as they will almost certainly realize you are from somewhere else, and will be worried about your