Shields in Shadow

by Andy Peloquin

  But he refused to fall. He caught himself on a training dummy and, gritting his teeth, waded back into the fight even after three Zaharises wobbled in his vision. The Secret Keeper drove two fingers into a cluster of nerves in his left shoulder, and immediately the arm went numb. Aravon fought on one-handed. Breath burning in his lungs, he blocked and counterattacked any chance he got.

  Zaharis finished the match with a quick blow to Aravon's ribs, and took advantage of his lowered guard to strike his neck. Aravon's vision momentarily blurred. When he could focus, he was on one hand and knee.

  Zaharis' hands flashed, and a smile broadened his face. “Not bad, Captain.”

  Aravon gave him a dazed smile. Behind the Secret Keeper, Noll, Skathi, and Draian stood with wide eyes and gaping mouths.

  “Damn!” Noll whispered again. “The Captain lasted longer than I expected.”

  “Damn is right,” Belthar murmured agreement. “I'd hesitate to face Zaharis, that's for sure.”

  Aravon allowed the Secret Keeper to help him up. His head swam, and he held on to Zaharis for support. After a moment, he nodded. “Thank you.”

  Zaharis grinned and released him.

  Aravon walked on unsteady legs toward the barracks, removing the wraps from his hand. He found Colborn at the entrance to the training yard. The half-Fehlan man watched him through hard eyes.

  “Next time, warn me never to go up against a Secret Keeper, will you?” Aravon asked.

  The tension in Colborn's face diminished and the corners of his mouth twitched. “You got it, Captain.” For the first time, the Lieutenant pronounced the word with respect.

  Aravon was grinning as he stumbled inside the cool shadows of the brick barracks. The minute he was out of sight of his men, he groaned and pressed a hand to his ribs. Earning the respect of his men was almost worth the pain.

  Almost.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The Duke's deadline was one week away, and Aravon still didn't feel ready. The last three weeks had passed in a blur. Every one of his company had dedicated themselves to their training with a determination that surprised and delighted him. They each surpassed him in so many ways.

  As a Legion scout, Noll had absorbed Colborn's lessons with ease. Indeed, on the last “hunt and capture” practice mission, Noll had actually managed to evade Colborn. Skathi proved equally adept. Belthar and Draian had a long way to go before Colborn would consider them anywhere near ready, but he'd given a grudging nod of approval to Aravon and Zaharis.

  When it came to the grasp of Fehlan, Colborn had dubbed Skathi and Draian “adequate”, with no trace of accent. The Lieutenant had demanded Noll never speak where a Fehlan could hear. “Your accent would make my dead ancestors weep,” he'd said.

  Colborn, Skathi, and Noll had joined Aravon in Lectern Harald's lessons on small-force tactics. They'd learned from the greatest military losses and victories in the history of not only the Einari campaign on Fehlan, but every major battle recorded in the history of Einan. Colborn would serve as Aravon's second brain when strategizing, and Skathi and Noll's skill at reconnaissance would prove invaluable when executing those plans.

  In terms of sheer destructive power, none of them could match Belthar. The man wielded his huge axe with impressive dexterity. In their last sparring session, Belthar had knocked Colborn off his feet half a dozen times before Aravon called an end—more to prevent injury than spare Colborn's pride.

  Draian had taught them as much as he could of the healing arts, including basic herbology. Together with Colborn, the Mender had instructed them on secrets of foraging on Fehl for edible plants, roots, and berries. In the middle of nowhere, without a supply chain, they had to supplement whatever rations they hauled in their packs.

  Their daily marches had grown longer since they stopped needing Lectern Trillan's lessons on the Fehlan tongue. While slogging through the marshes, Colborn refused to speak Princelander, forcing each of them to adapt to the new language.

  Zaharis had continued delivering his vials of mysterious alchemical potions to Noll and Aravon. Whatever was in them seemed to work. Noll's limp had disappeared, and he had regained the agility that made him the perfect scout.

  Aravon's wounds had also healed, but his shield arm hadn't regained full mobility. Draian had said something about too much time passing before he could set the break. Aravon refused to ask if he'd ever be able to carry a shield again—he didn't want to hear the answer.

  Thankfully, his morning training sessions with Zaharis had brought back his instincts with the quarterstaff. The added eighteen-inch blade made his spear a far deadlier weapon than any staff. He had a long way to go, but at least he'd held his own in sparring sessions with both Colborn's dual bladed-style and Zaharis’ whirling staff.

  Since the Duke's departure, an urgency had settled upon the seven of them. Their training sessions had grown more intense and they pushed each other harder. Every one of them competed to outperform the others. Nowhere was it more evident than on the obstacle course.

  Zaharis held the record for the fastest completion time, but Noll, Skathi, and Colborn were all a few seconds behind him. Belthar, of course, had the slowest time—a fact that brought him a great deal of embarrassment. He never said a word when the others teased him, but worked harder than anyone else to keep up.

  Today's exercise, however, was different. Instead of the typical challenge to complete the series of obstacles in a competition against each other, they'd do it in concert with their comrades.

  “The goal is simple,” Aravon told them. “We need to finish this course in under three minutes. Together.”

  All eyes went to Belthar, who blushed. He hadn't managed to complete the course in less than five minutes.

  Aravon smiled. “This is the truth of it: we live or die as a team. We set a goal and achieve it together. No one of us is better than the other. We need the strengths of each one beside us, and we compensate for the weaknesses of each one as well.”

  The six of them exchanged glances. He knew exactly what they were thinking: he asked the impossible of them.

  And therein lay the true purpose of this exercise. The Duke would be expecting them to accomplish the impossible. They had to change their way of thinking if they were to find ways to carry out whatever missions he entrusted to them. General Traighan had loved to say, “Every mountain can be turned into a canyon with the right tools.”

  “Here's how this will work,” Aravon began. “Colborn, Zaharis, and Noll, you run the obstacle course as fast as you can.”

  The three exchanged wide grins at a chance to compete.

  “But as you run it,” he said, shaking his head, “stop thinking about how you'll complete it. Start thinking about the best ways for all of us to complete it as quickly as possible.”

  Colborn and Noll's grins drooped. Zaharis' eyes sparkled, the way they always did when his mind chipped away at a stubborn problem.

  “Belthar, Draian, and Skathi, you'll join me up there.” he pointed to the balcony where he'd sat with the Duke and Lord Eidan all those long weeks ago. “We'll watch the three of them complete the course and see if we can't solve the same problem from that vantage point.”

  The six of them nodded. They'd begun to understand what he intended.

  “After they complete the course, we regroup down here and go over our plan.” Aravon looked around. “You each have strengths and skills that give you a unique perspective on this challenge. I'll need your input to formulate a plan.” He fixed them with a serious gaze. “Every one of you, got it?”

  Again, the six nodded.

  “To your starting places,” he told Colborn, Noll, and Zaharis. As the three of them took their places at the beginning of the obstacle course, he led the others up to the balcony.

  “Belthar, watch Noll. Skathi, Colborn. Draian, keep an eye on Zaharis.”

  “What are we watching for, Captain?” Belthar asked, frowning.

  “See how they move,” he replied, “h
ow they approach each obstacle, and how they overcome it. Each one of them has their own solution—think about how we can use that solution to complete the mission as a team. Got it?”

  The three nodded.

  Aravon cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted. “Go!”

  The three men sprinted through the course like arrows shot from a bow. Noll had the fastest start, and reached the first challenge before the others. The obstacle, a twenty-foot wall, had a single rope. Noll chose to climb the rope, scaling it like a sailor scampering through his ship's rigging.

  Colborn ground his teeth as he waited for Noll to climb high enough. Zaharis, however, ignored the rope, instead choosing to climb the wall using the spaces between the boards and beams for handholds. He raced up the wall as if scaling a ladder and pulled himself over the lip a heartbeat behind Noll. They slid down the pole in unison. The Secret Keeper's feet splashed into the puddle at the base of the wall and he was off before Noll touched down.

  Colborn had already reached the top and begun the slide down the pole when his two competitors reached the next obstacle: a rope net stretched over a long trench of muddy water. Noll threw himself headlong into the puddle, crawling on hands and knees without touching the net. Zaharis, taller and broader than Noll, struggled to avoid the metal hooks hanging from the net. Colborn caught up to him in the precious seconds he spent untangling his robes.

  Noll had the lead on the other two, but the third obstacle proved his undoing. A pile of stones was heaped high atop a wagon bed, with a single thick rope used to pull the wagon. Noll lifted the rope and struggled to move the cart. Only when Zaharis and Colborn threw their backs into the effort did they manage to get the wagon moving.

  Aravon had kept the count in his head. They would complete the course in time, but it wouldn't be a record. He'd purposely had Eames, one of the manservants, pile extra stones on the wagon to force them to work in unison.

  Together, the three men were neck and neck as they swung across a mud pile, scaled a second ten-foot wall, and heaved a massive log out of a three-foot trench. This had been Aravon's addition—another challenge to get them working like a team.

  A series of hurdles came next. They ranged from mid-calf to thigh height, set close enough that the competitors couldn't get enough speed to simply vault over them. Zaharis reached them first. Aravon's jaw dropped as the Secret Keeper jumped onto the first hurdle and leapt from beam to beam with the grace of a dancer.

  Even from this distance, Colborn and Noll's shouts of “No fair!” and “Cheating!” reached Aravon. The two men struggled over the highest hurdles. Noll's height put him at a clear disadvantage.

  Zaharis hauled himself up and over the next bar with ease, dropping with cat-like grace to the dirt and racing toward the final obstacle. His strong fingers closed around the rope and he hauled himself with the strength of his arms alone to ring the bell at the top.

  He slid down and met Noll and Colborn with a self-satisfied grin. His hands flashed. “Told you,” he signed. “Better luck next time.”

  Since learning more of the complex hand gestures, Aravon had discovered Zaharis had a personality as fierce and competitive as the others. He was intelligent, driven, and had a creative approach to solving problems—as he'd demonstrated by using the hurdles as stepping stones rather than vaulting over them.

  The Secret Keeper was also defiantly ritualistic. He liked his day to be precisely organized, every minute occupied with some pursuit of excellence. Anything that threw off his routine left him out of sorts. Whoever disturbed him received a series of furious hand gestures and an angry glare that would make a rock quiver. Aravon had learned to cope with some of the man's eccentricities, but it often proved wearisome. Just one more quirk to overcome if they were to bond as a team.

  “Captain, he cheated!” Noll complained as they came together on the ground just outside the obstacle course.

  “No, I didn’t,” Zaharis replied in sign language. “The only rule was to complete the course in the correct order. There were no details on how to complete it.”

  Aravon cut in before the scout could protest. “He's right, Noll. That’s precisely the kind of thinking we need to start developing if we're to succeed here.” He thrust a finger at the obstacle course. “Zaharis saw a problem and found a smarter, faster solution to overcoming it. We have to stop thinking in terms of 'fair' and 'unfair'. We can't do things the way they've always been done. If we can't go around, we go over. If we can't go under, we go through. That is the only way we're going to beat the Eirdkilrs at their own game. Is that understood?”

  The six of them nodded. Noll shot angry glares at Zaharis, but Colborn seemed lost in thought, his eyes fixed on the course. His brain worked at the problem just like Zaharis'.

  “Now,” Aravon said, “let's figure out how we're going to beat that obstacle course as an entire team. It's time to do the impossible.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Are you ready?” Aravon asked.

  “Ready, Captain,” Colborn said. Belthar grunted, Draian nodded, and Zaharis responded with, “Let's do this.”

  Snarl looked up at him with eagerness written in his wide amber eyes. His wings gave an eager flap and he dug his paws—which had sprouted dangerously long talons—into the ground. He wanted to take part in the contest, too.

  Aravon shook his head. “Stay, Snarl.”

  The Enfield's eyes sparkled and he wagged his tail with a happy bark.

  “Snarl, stay!” Aravon tried again. The command proved equally ineffective.

  “Snarl, sit,” Skathi said. To Aravon's dismay, the little Enfield immediately obeyed, though disappointment filled his eyes.

  “Good boy!” Skathi put a hand on Snarl's snout and rubbed it. Snarl nipped at her fingers and she gave him a playful smack.

  When they moved toward the training ground, Snarl stayed put, though he gave a little whining bark.

  Aravon shook his head. “You little traitor,” he told the Enfield.

  Snarl responded with a happy yipping that sounded like laughter. His broad, furry face creased into a vulpine grin.

  The Enfield had taken an instant liking to Skathi, and he obeyed her commands more than he heeded Aravon. Aravon tried to hide how much that bothered him. He'd grown fond of the little creature over the last few weeks.

  Aravon forced the thought from his mind. “You know the plan,” he told his companions. “We all have our roles to play. Do it right and we'll get through this in one piece. Got it?”

  The six nodded.

  He drew in a deep breath. “Then let's go!”

  As one, they took off. Noll didn't break from the pack like he had earlier, but hung back to give Belthar a chance to go first. When Belthar reached the wall, he set his back against it and crouched, hands clasped at knee level.

  Colborn planted his feet on Belthar's hands and leapt. At the same time, Belthar heaved upward, sending Colborn flying to grasp the top of the wall. He scrambled over and had disappeared by the time Zaharis followed.

  Belthar repeated the process with Skathi, Draian, Noll, and Aravon. Aravon paused atop the wall, glancing down at Belthar. “You got this?”

  The big man nodded. “Go. I'm right behind you.”

  Aravon slid down the pole and raced toward the next obstacle. Zaharis and Colborn waited in the middle of the rope net obstacle. They held Colborn's shirt between them, using it to push the net upward. Even Belthar's massive bulk fit under the obstacle without getting caught once.

  Colborn left his shirt attached to the hooks and scrambled out bare-chested. Aravon caught Skathi shooting a sidelong glance at the half-Fehlan's impressive musculature.

  Skathi and Noll waited on the far side of the wagon, ready to push the moment Belthar took the rope from Draian's waiting hands. Together, the four of them heaved, and the wagon rumbled over the marked line.

  The rope swing came next. Aravon and Colborn crossed first, leaving Noll behind to pass the rope back to the other team
members for a faster crossing.

  Aravon and Colborn raced toward the second wall. With their help, Belthar was able to grab the lip of the wall and haul himself over with ease. He hung from the top of the wall and reached down to pull Draian bodily off the ground. The two of them raced on to the next obstacle while the other five scaled the wall in seconds.

  Excitement coursed within Aravon. We can do this!

  Belthar lifted half the log by himself, making it easy for Draian and Zaharis to get the other half from the trench. Skathi didn't pause to help but sprinted past the three men toward the hurdles. She imitated Zaharis' movements, leaping from hurdle to hurdle with breathtaking grace. Aravon found his heart beating faster at the sight of her flowing red hair and lithe form.

  He chided himself. Focus! We're so close to the finish line.

  Draian struggled over the hurdles, but Noll and Aravon helped him with the higher obstacles. Zaharis completed the obstacle even faster than he had the first time.

  “You've got this, Belthar!” Aravon shouted.

  The huge man leapt over the first obstacle but stumbled over the second, set at knee height. Colborn was there to help him up. Together, they vaulted the third mid-calf obstacle and raced toward the fourth.

  Aravon held his breath. This was the one most likely to slow their time. Higher than his waist, it would cost them precious seconds for Belthar to cross.

  But the big man didn't slow. Instead, he lowered his shoulder and charged. The beam, easily as thick as Aravon's forearm, splintered beneath the impact. Colborn's jaw dropped and he nearly tripped over the shards of wood. Belthar clambered over the last three hurdles. The bright clang of the bell rang out as Colborn cleared the last obstacle.

  “Well I'll be damned!” Colborn stared up at Belthar with open shock.

  Noll laughed. “You great bloody beast, we did it!” With a laugh, he punched Belthar's arm.

  Belthar blushed, but a smile spread his face. “Yeah, we did, didn't we?”

  Aravon glanced over to Clem, who stood atop the balcony counting the seconds. The grizzled man's nod was all he needed. “We did. Thanks to all of you.”