A Templar's Apprentice by Kat Black

so for my da many times. Though this is a much larger ship an’ I’d need some counsel at first.”
    â€œWe’d be better off slitting his throat an’ tossing him over the side,” said Seamus. “He could be a spy.”
    â€œI’m not a spy!” I protested.
    â€œNo, ye’re probably not. Ye stink a’ it too badly to have stayed alive this long if ye were.” With that he left.
    I watched him go with relief. “He likes me little,” I said, “an’ I him less.” I turned to the Templar, imploring. “I’m not a spy. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to listen.”
    â€œI think there are a lot o’ things ye don’t mean to do, Tormod, but ye do them nevertheless. Start thinking ahead. This is not a fireside tale. We are hunted. The price on our heads is redeemable whether we are alive or dead. One misstep by any of us, an’ this will end. None of us can afford for this to end badly.” He turned away.
    This was more than I had heard him say in all the time that I had known him. It was a lot to take in. “I am sorry,” I said meekly. “For everything. For falling an’ alerting the enemy o’ our presence. For causing the death o’ Douglas …”
    â€œYe didn’t —” he started.
    I cut him off. “Aye. I did. An’ I apologize for that. I didn’t do it on purpose, but I take responsibility for the action.”
    He dipped his head in acknowledgment.
    â€œBut I’m not sorry I followed ye an’ came aboard,” I said doggedly. “I think that I was supposed to be there in that place at that time. I don’t know why, but I’m sure o’ it.”
    The speech was a bit self-important, but I was still stinging from his words. I looked down at my feet unable to face him and another remark I would not like.
    â€œAye. Ye’re right. Ye’re supposed to be here.”
    Whatever else he might have said, I did not hear for a strange chill riffled the air. His words reverberated within my head. I swayed with dizziness. Blood spilled over a cross. Red leaching onto a field of white. Metal on metal rang in my ears. Firelight danced on dark walls.
    â€œFocus. Ground. Shield.” Strange commands from the Templar pressed into my mind. I didn’t know what he meant or what he wanted, and the vision continued to pound away at my mind.
    Then suddenly it was as if a stiff breeze blew through my mind and I felt the vision slide slowly away. All at once I was back in the here and now.
    The Templar was close before me, his face furrowed with lines of concern. I had not even known of his approach. “Hush ye now. It’s gone,” he said.
    I stared at him long and hard, trying to reconcile the vision. I felt faint. My hands were fists of white gripping his vestment.
    â€œDo the visions come to ye often?” he asked, sounding so earnest that I responded without thought. “Not very, but even that is more often than I’d like.” My body shook. Twice now the visions had come to me in the presence of another. This strange seeing that had been with me from birth was changing somehow.
    â€œAye. The visions can seem a curse,” he murmured. “Or a blessing. ’Tis all in what ye make o’ it, Tormod. Tell me, why is it ye have no training in the basics of grounding?” he asked.
    I had no idea what he was talking about. I had only shared a vision once, and I had great cause to wish I hadn’t. Panic rose within me as my mind careened back to the memory I longed to forget.
The boat was capsized in the water. The father o’ Torquil’s friend Cormack floated facedown.
I had told Torquil of the vision and he told his friend. When the body was found, the whole of the village branded me a warlock. Torquil and I were never again as we once were.
    I pushed it away, nearly forgetting in whose presence I now stood.
    â€œWhat did ye