Apprentice

by Nicholas Hale

  Putting it out of his mind, he started thinking about his new horse again.

  Chapter 23

  "Your stance is wrong," said Azrael, scoring another hit with the blunted sword on Lorian's thigh.

  "Your legs are just as important in combat as your hands. You need to identify the advantageous position. You're using a one-handed sword. So it makes more sense for you to position yourself for an overhanded strike. You're holding it in your right hand, so you shouldn't let me get further to your right," continued Azrael.

  He moved to Lorian's right, illustrating the difficulty.

  "See? Now you need to swing backhanded," he said. "So you need to immediately shift your legs to put me at the same place."

  Lorian nodded. They sparred for another round, Azrael scoring a hit again. And again, before Lorian fell to his knees bruised and gasping for breath.

  Azrael was sincerely impressed. The mage wasn't half bad with the sword.

  From what he had mentioned, he didn't even have any formal training. Yet Azrael was sure he could at least reasonably defend himself in combat.

  "You move too fast," Lorian said after taking in a deep breath.

  "Well, that, and I've had a lifetime of training with the sword. You can't really judge yourself by how you fight with me. The same way I can't judge myself against you if I just started learning magic."

  Lorian nodded.

  "Why would you need a sword, though? From what I've heard, you're already a great spell caster."

  "Spells are powerful. But there's a limit to how much you can cast at a stretch without rest. A lot of mages have died that way. Being cut down after their spells have been drained and they were unable to cast any more. I have no intention of dying like that," said Lorian.

  Makes sense, thought Azrael.

  "Where did you learn swordsmanship?" asked Lorian.

  "Back in the isles," replied Azrael. "We have an academy there that teaches us sword-fighting among many other things. And we have several tournaments where we display our skill. It's a very prestigious sport," said Azrael.

  He would have continued except he noticed that Lorian seemed to be wheezing a little more than was normal.

  "Are you feeling well?" asked Azrael.

  "Yes. Yes, I am," said Lorian gasping for breath. "Back at Master Thau—the place I was before I came here, we only used to fool around with the swords in the tower. None of the other apprentices who studied with me were ever interested in learning the sword. This is the first time that I've had such a workout."

  Azrael understood. He spoke.

  "I guess this should be enough for today. You should be getting some rest."

  "Yes. I think so too. I haven't slept for three days..." said Lorian. His breath seemed to have steadied itself now, "It was nice meeting you, Azrael. Many thanks for the lessons. We should do this again sometime. I hope I shall see you again."

  Azrael waved his hand with a smile as a tired and haggard Lorian departed from the training room. Well, that went well, he thought. He half hoped that one of these days he would meet the mad apprentice.

  He laughed as he recollected the circumstances. After a whole week of Rennar declining to meet him or let him go to his seat at Marduk, Azrael thoroughly enjoyed the look on his face when Lorian asked him where the barracks were. He knew that Lorian probably didn't want to cause trouble, but it was fun letting Rennar think that Azrael believed it.

  His sparring partner now gone, Azrael turned his attention to the wooden dummy. The clang of the practice sword against it and his movement around it put his mind at peace. More importantly they kept the damned visions away.

  He was lost in the calmness of the moment when he heard a sharp knock coming from the side. Startled into awareness, he spun around bearing his sword. He looked down to see a small pebble lying on the marble floor.

  The armory appeared to be empty. There were many dark corners.

  After looking around for some time he noticed another pebble fly out of a dark corner and head towards him. He sidestepped it and moved to the spot where it came from in three swift strides. His eyed adjusted to the darkness but he still couldn't see anything ahead of him except the wall.

  Suddenly he became afraid. This was a familiar feeling for him. Back in Aegis. The visions. He had nearly been driven insane at a young age before his father took him to a physician. And then he had spiraled into drug use to keep them away. He thought he had them under control now.

  He looked at his hands and noticed that they were sweaty. In panic, he fell down to his knees. His first thoughts were to run back to his room and find his medicinal herbs before he heard a grinding noise. He looked up to see that part of the wall had opened and two hands reached out and pulled him into the wall. As soon as he landed on the floor, he heard the wall fall back into place.

  Chapter 24

  A flash of light in the pitch-black darkness, and he saw that he was in a tunnel of sorts. The light was coming from a newly lit candle, and holding the candle was Lord Doyen.

  Azrael was about to ask what the hell was happening when he saw Doyen put his finger to his lips, signaling silence. Whatever else he felt regarding Doyen's idea of meeting inside a tunnel, Azrael was relieved that his sanity was still intact.

  Keeping as quiet as possible, Azrael followed as Doyen went along the tunnel taking several turns. Azrael thought he would try to remember the route, but lost track. They came to a small junction where Doyen stopped and sat down. He was quick enough for an old man, thought Azrael.

  "We're out of earshot now," said Doyen.

  "Out of whose earshot?"

  "You've seen a man around the castle called Kirrel?"

  "I might have. I can't recollect having met anyone by that name..."

  "It's not likely that you've seen him. Kirrel is Rennar's personal spy master and he has eyes and ears everywhere. Our little conversation that day in the gardens has already made its way to Rennar and has upset him considerably. This is why he refuses to let you go to Fortress Marduk and has you under constant watch."

  Azrael personally thought that was a bit too far-fetched even for Rennar, but then again, Azrael had done nothing in their first meeting to reassure Rennar either.

  "I am not a prisoner here…"

  "Oh? Then am I to believe you are staying here of your own free will?"

  "I will be speaking to Rennar about it soon."

  "You can speak to him all you want but you challenged his authority on the very first day you came here. He has every reason not to trust you."

  "You have spies inside Norvind?"

  "A few," replied Doyen, smiling.

  "How can you trust me?" asked Azrael. It seemed very unlikely that Doyen would betray such secrets to Azrael just because he had spoken with him once before.

  "I know what happened on the Deckan Plains."

  Azrael narrowed his eyes. Anger. And then embarrassment.

  "I don't know what exactly you think of me, but I am not a traitor."

  "I never implied that you were my friend. I did not utter one word asking you to betray your country."

  "Then why am I here speaking with you?"

  "Only because I believe that you are a good man."

  Doyen continued when Azrael remained silent.

  "Rennar is bleeding Bren dry. We surrendered to Emperor Thyurin to become a part of the Aegean Empire. Does Bren seem anything at all to you like the islands that you're from?"

  "I can see the conditions here. I assure you, I am as repulsed by them as you are, yet there is little I can do. Granted, the conditions in Bren are much worse than the other colonies, but this is not unknown back at home. In all likelihood, the emperor is aware of how things are here."

  "Rennar is stealing from the Aegean Empire."

  Azrael would have been stunned if he had not suspected such a thing in the first place. Here was confirmation that Rennar was stealing from the mines. This was something he could control.

  That same
feeling overcame him now that did back when he first met Rennar. The man was overbearing and cruel and from what could be seen around him, not very good at caring for his subjects. But what galled him the most was that he was preventing Azrael from doing his job.

  Azrael did want to do something about the situation in Bren, but he had no power over Rennar. The only power he did have was granted to him by the title of overseer. His only job here was to ensure that the records being sent back to the treasurer were accurate.

  "You have no proof of this," said Azrael, still not sure if he was doing the right thing by siding with a foreigner.

  "I only ask that you visit the mines. You will see for yourself."

  Azrael nodded. Doyen was right. Regardless of what Rennar said, Azrael simply had to go to the mines and see for himself.

  "Is there anything else you wish to tell me?" asked Azrael. He thought Doyen wanted to say something, but was hesitating.

  "No. I...understand how you feel. Regardless of whether they're right or wrong, it is hard to take a stand against your own men. I had to surrender Bren to the will of Emperor Thyurin. Many called me a traitor for that decision, yet I had to do it to save lives. I cannot ask you to work against Rennar. I can only ask that you go to the mines. Once you have seen for yourself, we shall talk again. Only if you still wish to..."

  Azrael felt his discomfort lessen as he heard this. He realized that Doyen had taken a very great risk in meeting with him and furthermore confiding in him.

  "I shall try my best."

  "Very well, let's lead you back outside."

  Azrael moved to follow Doyen.

  "So these tunnels extend throughout the castle?" asked Azrael.

  "They connect only certain areas in the castle, but they are expansive. If I leave you here, there would be little chance of you finding your way out. You could end up moving in circles for days until you finally starve to death."

  They moved in silence for some time when Doyen remarked.

  "Right now, I believe we are underneath the throne room."

  As if in answer to Doyen's words, there was suddenly a loud bestial roar.

  It was followed by what sounded like snarls. It was faint but it was enough to send a shiver through his body. Azrael could feel eyes boring into him through the concrete walls of the tunnels. For a few moments, he felt like he was being hunted.

  "What the hell was that?" asked Azrael in a whisper. He froze in place.

  "Nothing you need to worry about—keep moving," said Doyen, turning and smiling at Azrael. "I told you the castle has a life of its own."

  That didn't reassure him, and whatever it was, he did not wish to hear it again. Doyen stopped at a wall and was about to place his hands on it delicately when he turned and spoke.

  "Oh, and there's one more thing I wished to tell you. Something very important."

  Azrael nodded.

  "I know for a fact that a week from now, every month, the overseer's report will go to the treasurer. I also know that Rennar has already had it prepared."

  "Well, then he'll have to let me go to the mines to verify it, won't he?"

  "You think so? He'll simply ask you to sign them and put your seal on the envelopes."

  Azrael was filled with indignation.

  "He cannot ask me to do that. And there's no way I'm doing it either!"

  "That was what I wanted to talk to you about. I suggest you sign them. You should understand that opposing Rennar directly will get you nowhere. You might not have seen it yet, but I witnessed it firsthand when Rennar started his governorship. He is ruthless and will not stop at anything to get what he wants."

  The implied meaning Azrael understood was that Rennar would not stop short of killing him. It sounded incredulous to him. After all, Azrael was Lord Serael's son. Then again, there were countless ways to kill a man without making it look like he had been murdered, thought Azrael.

  "So your advice is to just sign the papers? And here I was thinking—" Azrael's sentence was cut off midway by Doyen.

  "Cooperate with him. For now. I merely said you shouldn't oppose him directly. Rennar has too much power here. Even without the Aegean army, he has the slaver nomads on his side."

  "I don't particularly like the idea of caving into his demands," said Azrael.

  "It will take time, but you need to give Rennar the illusion that you are the type of man he needs as an overseer. It would be hard considering his opinion of you. But sometimes men can be made to see what they want to see. Even if it isn't truly there."

  Azrael thought about it. It would be hard, but from the way things looked, that was his only option.

  Chapter 25

  Calar ran up the street leading to their mansion. He could see the silhouette of their house against the moonlight from the other end of the street where he was standing. He had just returned from the Red Parrot Inn at the docks. Usually, when he visited a dump like that, he often took a few of his father's men. Today, however, his father had insisted that all available men remain at the mansion on guard, and he sent Calar on the task alone.

  That was unusual for his doting father. Not that it worried him in the least. Calar was well capable of handling himself. No ragtag mercenary or thug could kill him. And the better-known ones knew to stay away from him. They knew whose son he was. Still, his father had always been paranoid about Calar's safety.

  All this work just to take down a stupid bounty, he thought.

  He had at first argued that the docks were too far and that his father should send one of his men to do it, at which point Father lost his temper and yelled at him to get out of the house immediately. When he was done with the assigned task, he was to visit his uncle Lester's home and stay there till he was sent for.

  Calar had no intention of doing so.

  He was fond of his uncle Lester, but something was wrong here.

  Father had been behaving strangely for the past few weeks. Most of it had to do with a botched job involving a freelance thief called Toskk. His father hadn't even confided in him what he had sent Toskk to steal. All the while his men had been hunting Toskk, his father had been uneasy and on edge. It had only become worse two days ago.

  The whole incident was very puzzling to Calar. He had known that his father placed a meager two-hundred-gold bounty on Toskk. He had even argued that his father should raise the bounty. Or why even a bounty, he asked. There were excellent trackers available with the Black Ravens who could be taken in on a retainer for the duration of the job.

  His father had yelled at him to keep out of it and insisted that this particular job couldn't get out of the family. And then suddenly there was news doing the rounds that the bounty on Toskk was up to eight hundred gold. It wasn't too high, but business had been slow lately, and even eight hundred was good enough to get a lot of people talking.

  Word was out on the street that his father had been looking for thief called Toskk and that he was in possession of an artifact that looked like an egg. Calar didn't care too much about it and had assumed that his father had had the bounty raised. And it was common for people to talk about a decently priced bounty, and moreover it was good—there was more information available to the hunters.

  His father, however, flew into a rage as soon as the news reached him. He immediately sent Calar to have the bounty taken down. He also had all the men who worked for the family called in to stay inside the mansion. The meeting with Velasco had gone well enough. Velasco merely shrugged and requested the penalty for a wrongful bounty before taking it down.

  Calar was halfway to Lester's house when he realized something. His father was one of the most powerful men in Archon and he didn't get there easily. Calar had been used to feuds with other families and assassination attempts on his father, but his father had held the favor of the Black Ravens for the past few years. In short, he was untouchable in the streets of Archon. Calar realized that despite his invulnerability, his father was afraid of something.

  It was genu
ine fear he had been seeing underneath the mask of anger that his father had been donning for the last two days. Without pause for thought, Calar decided that he would stand by his father in his hour of need. He intended to show his father that no matter what enemy they faced, that he was his father's son.

  And here he was.

  He opened the gates to the mansion and ran inside toward the door while holding the hilt of his sword.

  His breath grew heavy and he realized that he was excited. At the prospect of a fight.

  His father had him trained by an ex-soldier from the Aegean army, a graduate of the fabled academy. Calar was never good enough to enter the larger tournaments and face the likes of Prince Elben. Or even that other captain from the army who caused a big stir when he won the grand tournament.

  Well, Calar knew he could never be that good, but he had been in plenty of scuffles himself and was sure he could handle himself. He was around his father's men long enough to know that fighting and killing were two different things.

  He froze in front of the door as he realized something.

  Strange. There were no guards at the door.

  There were usually four guards on the premises. Two by the door, and two doing rounds in the small courtyard, who took turns. Maybe Father had them all inside for some briefing. Either that or, Calar thought angrily, he would have some strong words for Gale, who assigned men their guard duty.

  He opened the door and walked into complete darkness. The chandeliers were out. And it was completely silent. What the hell was going on?

  Calar's thoughts froze as he heard a loud, inhuman screech. He felt bat like wings brush his face and then heard the door slam shut. Calar had the sense to pull out his sword and swing blindly. He tried instinctively to concentrate on the flapping of wings. His eyes had gotten slightly accustomed to the darkness now, but the winged thing—whatever it was—was nowhere to be seen.