Dark Blade

by Tony Roberts

  “Curdled milk. Don’t know how they do it, but they put it in a mixer and add stuff to it and after a week or month or whatever, wow.”

  “Milk?”

  Pappis chuckled again. “Where have you come from? The moon?”

  “A fishing village – we had fish and seaweed and other things from the sea, but nothing like this.”

  “We get river fish here,” Pappis said.

  “Yes, the pale green ones?”

  “Yes. You had one?” Limkel asked.

  “Caught one day before yesterday in the river.”

  “Really?” Limkel looked at her with respect. “How did you do that – and cook it?”

  She explained to the fascinated listeners, but Grange scoffed and Quenia preferred to ignore her pointedly.

  A banging from the top table stopped any further conversation. All looked up or around as Blademaster Territus stood. “Students of the blade, today we welcome a new student, a half elf from the kingdom of Gorradan, Faerowyn. She will be learning the basics initially but if she learns quickly then she may be permitted to join the junior class. Please make her welcome. Faerowyn, come here to receive your initiate’s badge.”

  “Oh,” she said, suddenly intimidated.

  Limkel nudged her. “Go on! We all had to do this!”

  Faer slowly stood up, nervously, and stepped out onto the wide walkway in between the arches. All eyes were on her and she sensed the nudging and whispers. Taking a deep breath, she tried to block out everything right and left of her and concentrate on making her way to the top table, preferably without tripping over.

  She approached and saw the top table was up on a platform. The table was arranged right on the edge of this with those seated on the other side. She stopped at the platform’s edge and waited, her knees shaking. Her eyes shifted to the right where Seltonas regarded her with a taint of hostility and contempt. She wondered what she had done to incur his displeasure. Probably by existing, she thought to herself bitterly.

  Territus passed a metal badge across to her and she took it. “Wear it on your upper sleeve, look to where the others have theirs. You will have to sew it on yourself, another test. Welcome, Initiate Faerowyn.”

  “Th-thank you, Master,” she bowed and backed away, holding the oval-shaped badge. It had a sword, bared, and behind it an upright hand, palm open. She made her way back to her place, once again running the gauntlet of curious eyes. She reached her place and sat down, getting supportive looks from Limkel and Pappis.

  Breakfast soon ended and they filed out in a mass. Faer peeled to one side and looked at the badge in the daylight. It was thin and had four small holes, spaced evenly around it. She looked at her dining companions’ upper sleeves and noted where to put hers. The two boys joined her. Quenia stopped, gave Pappis a glare, then flounced off. Grange smirked and followed her. “What’s wrong with Quenia?” Faer asked.

  “Oh, she fancies Pappis here,” Limkel said, jabbing a thumb at his companion. “Doesn’t like the thought of a rival for his affections.”

  “Really? A-a rival? B-but…”

  The two laughed. “She’s just jealous, that’s all,” Pappis grinned. “I like her, really I do, but she’s so full-on. Overwhelming, she is. Wants my attention all the time. Don’t want that. Anyway, Grange has the hots for her and he’s always trying to turn her head. Thing is she can’t stand him.” The boy laughed. “Did you see Quenia passing the cheese to Limkel after I passed you the water first time round? Ha ha ha.”

  “Oh, you’re terrible!” Faer said. “Don’t upset her on my behalf. Don’t want her to hate me because you pay me attention. Really, I don’t mind if you ignore me for her.”

  Limkel put his hands on his hips. “You’re really unassuming, aren’t you? Don’t go making a habit of it; Grange will take advantage of you and there’s a few others here who will. We’re the juniors and we get picked on terribly. Always cleaning shoes or sharpening swords or fetching and carrying for the intermediaries or seniors. You wait; if you go on putting yourself last you’ll attract the bullies who’ll be getting you to wait on them hand foot and finger.”

  “Yeah,” Pappis added, “since you’re so different. And what did old grumpy Seltonas give you those looks about?”

  Faer shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never met him before. Did you say he dislikes everyone?”

  “I did,” Limkel answered. “But he seemed to give you an extra special scowl. Congratulations, you’re his anti-teacher’s pet.”

  Pappis sniggered. “Stay away from him; he’s not nice. Always so superior, stuck up and arrogant. But he’s a really excellent swordsman.”

  “Thanks – I’ll remember that. Oh, and thank you.”

  “Uh? What for?” the two asked.

  “For cheering me up; I was really down when I arrived this morning.”

  “Yeah we noticed. Big cry was it?” Pappis said, his eyes full of concern.

  She nodded. “Horrid one. Eyes, nose, everything.”

  The two boys grinned. “There’ll be more you’ll see. After they’ve run you silly and got your arms and legs screaming in pain and beaten you senseless with their practice swords, you’ll be climbing out of your back window and jumping down to the river.”

  Faer smiled.

  “There you go; cheer up, it isn’t all bad.” Pappis sighed. “I’m getting another Quenia look from over there. Best go before she comes and fetches me.”

  “Could be worse,” Faer said. “It could be Grange fancying you.”

  Limkel dissolved into hysterics, doubling up. Pappis looked alarmed for a moment then joined in. Faer stood there grinning, more amused by their reactions than anything. A pair of older students arrived.

  “Oy, you three, break it up. Lessons to go to. Move.”

  “Yes, Young Masters,” Limkel said in a strained voice and tugged Pappis with him. Faer stood uncertain of where to go.

  “You the new girl, huh?” one of the older students said.

  “Ah, yes, Young Master,” she said, using the term she’d just heard.

  “Right. You’re to report to Master Seltonas in the beginner’s hall. It’s up there, second floor,” he pointed above the dining hall. “He doesn’t like being kept waiting, either. Advise you to move it, fast!”

  Faer bowed and raced up a wide flight of steps, wondering why she had the bad luck to get the one man who had actively shown her a dislike.

  TWELVE

  The hall was a small chamber, bare floorboarded, with stands arranged against the walls in a few places, some of which were empty, and others had suits of armour or swords hanging from them. In other places the walls had illustrations of warriors wielding swords or assuming certain poses.

  There was only the one door and she entered hurriedly, coming to a halt three paces in. Seltonas turned to regard her, and his mouth turned down. He had been in discussion with Blademaster Territus, and the school head folded his arms and looked carefully at Faer.

  “I-I was told to report here, Masters.”

  “Indeed,” Seltonas said slowly. His voice was deep, even and slightly musical. His accent was different to the humans. It was slightly clipped. “Not when you wish either, Initiate, but on time!”

  “Faerowyn,” Territus spoke. “Master Seltonas has exact expectations of his pupils. He is a hard taskmaster, but he gets the best out of everyone. He is without doubt my top tutor. You will pay him due deference and respect, no matter how he treats you.”

  “And, mark my words, Initiate, I shall be very hard on you. You are too old in my opinion to learn anything useful, but I have been tasked by the Blademaster here, and I too have to follow the wishes of my superior. I believe I have been selected to personally teach you for two reasons; firstly I am the best, as the Master has said. It is not an idle boast. I am the best and my natural abilities mean I am most likely never to be bettered here. If anyone is to get anything out of you, then it will be me, much as I dislike the prospect. Understand?”

 
; “Master.” She stood stock still.

  “And secondly…secondly,” his voice dropped and he walked slowly around her. “You are elf blood.” He trembled in suppressed fury. “You had best learn a few truths before we commence. I hate dark elves. I detest them. I would willingly destroy them all. You are clearly of that blood. My people, the White Elves, are implacable enemies of the Dark Elves. And fate has delivered into my hands not only a product of that race, but also one of royal bloodlines! You are an abomination!” He stamped away, his whole being stiff with anger.

  Faer wildly looked to the Blademaster.

  Territus held out a placatory hand. “Master Seltonas is upset, but he will calm down shortly. He is merely letting you know his personal feelings towards you – no don’t say anything, just listen. Here in Kaltinar we have no allegiances, no favouritism. We pride ourselves on having no prejudices, and this may seem odd after Master Seltonas’ outburst. So listen further.”

  Seltonas turned round and visibly controlled himself. “As Blademaster Territus has just said, there is no prejudice here. So, I am to put aside my revulsion of your heritage and teach you the skills of the blade. I am to make you as good a warrior as I am able to. This I shall attempt to do.” He stepped closer to her. “You have powers you are unaware of, and it is also my task,” and he growled, looking at Territus, “to firstly make you aware of these and secondly to control them and use our discipline here to channel them correctly.” He seethed at her. “This goes against my very being, but I have my professional pride and this will overcome my personal dislike of you, Initiate!”

  “Master? May I speak?”

  Seltonas glared at her, then curtly nodded.

  Faer thought for a moment. “You know of my heritage – how did you find out?”

  “Your name. You dark elves just cannot resist telling the world who you are. The Owyn suffix. You might as well paint it on your forehead. Go out into the wider world with that name and you’ll have assassins on your trail before the day is finished.”

  Faer looked at the Blademaster. “Master, then my name will have to change! I will never be able to rest if this is true.”

  Territus looked at Seltonas who sighed, then nodded. The elf spoke. “We do have a habit of attracting nicknames or such monikers. If you so wish you can take one now, although I don’t know what you would describe yourself as.”

  Faer hung her head, then she looked up. “Dark Blade.”

  Seltonas snorted. “Ah, that does not surprise me, just a touch of typical dark elf arrogance. Dark Blade it shall be. You will have to live up to such a title though, as it infers mastery.”

  Faer bowed.

  The elf continued. “I am also told you have a chainmail hauberk, one of elf steel. A hand-down?”

  Faer glanced at Territus who nodded. “Yes, Master, my father’s.”

  “Ah, a Lancer mail shirt. Fine quality, no doubt. Elves, whether they be of my race or yours, are all accomplished weapon smiths and armourers. Anything else you have of your father’s?”

  Faer looked at Territus who shook his head slightly. The sword was to remain a secret. She switched back to Seltonas. “Only – this,” she held up her necklace. The pendant with its flames and sun or moon caught the light in the room. Seltonas stepped back. “What – a dampener pendant! Blademaster, did you know of this?”

  “No – it’s been on her all this time. What is a dampener pendant?”

  Seltonas stared at Faer and her pendant. “Put it back, Initiate. Yes, a dampener pendant. Elves all have some degree of inherent power; you’d call it magic in your human ignorance. We don’t regard it as magic in any sense, rather normal abilities that our races possess. That is why we make terrible foes and valuable allies. You know I have certain powers.”

  “Yes, I’ve seen your shield of protection on occasions, and you have that push spell too?”

  “Hmm. Watch.” Seltonas called out and another student appeared. He was ordered to stand next to Faer. “Now, both of you assume an attack posture. Give her a wooden sword,” he ordered.

  The other student passed Faer a wooden sword from a stand. She held it experimentally. It had a round hilt and was cylindrical with a rounded end; no sharp points at all. “Now, advance on me,” the elf commanded. “Do not hold back.”

  The student snapped into an aggressive posture and Faer followed, not sure of what was going to happen. As they walked at the elf, Seltonas raised his right hand, snapped out a word that to Faer sounded like ‘back!’ but in a non-human tongue.

  Some shimmering wave flew from the elf’s hand and the student was sent back off his feet to land five feet away, stunned. Faer felt a breath of wind and something pressed briefly against her, then it was gone. She carried on, but was now alone. She slowed and looked at the fallen student.

  “Attack him, Initiate!” the Blademaster commanded.

  Faer looked back at Seltonas and raised her sword. The elf slapped it aside and his other hand took her under the chin, knocking her back. She grasped her throbbing throat and eyed Seltonas who was holding her sword. “As I thought, no martial abilities at all.”

  Faer coughed and grimaced. “That hurt, Master.”

  “You’ll hurt a damned sight more by the time I’ve finished with you.” He looked at the student who was slowly getting to his feet. “Recovered?”

  “Master,” he breathed, bowed, and was permitted to leave.

  “She was unaffected by your push.” Territus looked at Faer with interest.

  “Yes, as long as she has that pendant on her, what you call magic will not affect her. A dampener pendant does that. Elves of senior rank, especially the nobility, all carry them.” He looked at the rueful Faer. “You may be a princess but I’m damned if I’m going to treat you as one.”

  “That’s fine by me,” she replied. “I have no kingdom.”

  “Not even Keria?”

  “You know of Keria?” she said, suddenly forgetting her pain. “Master?”

  “What elf doesn’t? The Dark Elf Kingdom. The City of Keria. A place of evil, torture, foulness. Your heritage, Initiate, is to the very throne of Keria itself. You could feasibly be Queen of the Dark Elves one day.” He laughed suddenly, throwing back his head. “Ah you’ll be killed long before you get anywhere near it.”

  Faer stood stunned. Queen? She was heir to the throne of Keria?

  Territus moved forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. “This is not to leave this room. Ever.”

  Seltonas nodded. “And have a squad of those demonic Lancers on my head in no time? No thank you. I doubt this place could hold them off for long. No, we stay silent about her. Dark Blade may well be the best thing she’s thought up in her life.”

  Faer looked from one to the other. “I don’t want any of this! I don’t want to be a princess or Queen, or any powers!”

  “That may change in time when you learn of what you have within you.” Seltonas faced Territus. “You should see what I’m about to do with her. You should see the true face of a dark elf.”

  “Wh-what are you going to do?” Faer suddenly felt afraid.

  “Draw your bad blood to the surface. We need to do this to see just how strong it is in you, and then once I know exactly what you have, how to control it. You are capable of smashing this place to pieces.”

  “Are you sure, Master?” Territus said, doubt in his eyes.

  Seltonas nodded. “Give me the honour of knowing elf-kind. I’ve fought dark elves and know how powerful their abilities are.” He looked directly at Faer. “I have no idea how much of you is elf and how much human, so your abilities may be much reduced or fewer. A full-bloodied female dark elf would have us on our knees in no time, Blademaster. And enslaved.”

  “Enslaved?”

  Seltonas nodded. “Another attribute they have. They are very sensual and sexually adept. Once a human has enjoyed the delights of a dark elf female’s passion he is her willing slave for life. They know it and use it frequently to bend men to their
will. That is why it is best to kill them before they can use their powers. I don’t know if this extends to half elves and if so, just how powerful it may be. But our student here will have to be kept away from any male when off duty. I don’t want a legion of enslaved followers hanging onto her wherever she goes.”

  “What of elves?” Territus asked, shaken.

  “We have more of a resistance to that, but it has been known for my people to succumb too. Do you find her attractive?”

  Territus looked taken aback by the question. “That isn’t relevant…”

  “But it is. Look at her, look at her. Does she fill you with desire? Speak from the heart.”

  Faer looked from one to the other, her head spinning.

  The Blademaster shrugged. “She has her good points. What has this got to do with it?”

  “Everything. Men will find her irresistible. I on the other hand think her to be an abomination, so I am not swayed by her looks. When her dark elf blood is brought to the surface shortly, she will behave as one and may well attempt to seduce you. Either that or kill you. Do you understand, Initiate, what I’m about to do?”

  “No, Master – and I’m scared.”

  “You must concentrate on what will happen inside you. This is important. I must know what happens to you. Remember it and tell me later. Can you do that?”

  “I-I’ll try, yes, Master. Will it hurt?”

  “No – not in the slightest. First you must hand over your pendant to the Blademaster. He will need it to block any magic you use. I will fight it as I have a natural resistance. Your magic shouldn’t be anywhere as powerful as a full-blood’s.”

  Faer swallowed, then took off her pendant and passed it to Territus. “Master, if what Master Seltonas says, then I might try to hurt you. I-I apologise…”

  “Relax,” Territus replied. “This is a test. Don’t worry.” He looked at the elf. “When you are ready.”

  Seltonas nodded and raised one arm. He began chanting. Faer stood still, frightened out of her skin. She put her arms round herself and shook. Territus stepped back, the pendant over his head, waiting with baited breath. Magic was not really his thing; he much preferred the honest blade to extra-sensory powers and the like.