by Callie Kanno
He laughed and sighed at the same time.
I could help you to do that more easily, Iona murmured.
The feeling of triumph drained away suddenly, and Idris flinched away from her silent words.
“I can do this without you,” he said defensively.
There was something of a smirk in her voice as she replied.
No, you cannot.
Chapter Fifteen: The Well Fight
Idris dragged himself out of bed the following morning, unable to shake the feeling of impending doom that lurked in the back of his mind. He pulled on his black uniform and hurried out of his quarters while still tying up his hair, hoping to avoid running into anyone on his way to breakfast.
Unfortunately, he passed Jerin in the hall. She was walking toward her room, and Idris assumed that she had been on guard duty all night. Idris ducked his head and rushed past her, but not before seeing the expression on her face. Her look was both pitying and condemning.
Idris took the stairs two at a time, holding onto the lower half of his partisan to keep it from bouncing against his shoulder.
Even though it was early in the morning, the training compound was already busy with activity. There were plenty of young soldiers who felt the need to spend as much time as they could training, and Idris did not blame them at all.
He walked over the building where meals were held, doing his best to keep from drawing attention to himself. He noted that Jui was at her usual place, and she greeted him shyly as he approached.
“Here, master,” she murmured, holding out a bowl of hot cereal.
Idris took it, but he paused uncertainly.
“You do not have to do this for me,” he said finally. “I appreciate it, but I do not want to give you more work.”
Her brown eyes widened slightly. “It is no work at all, master. There is always a big pot of hot cereal for the servants’ breakfast. I just keep a bowl warm for you.”
Idris found himself laughing, and it was a welcome sensation. He became more aware of how heavy his heart had been feeling of late, and he was relieved to have a moment where it was lifted. Jui grinned in response, and he suddenly felt that they were friends.
“I suppose it is suiting that I would want the same meals as the servants,” he mused.
Jui seemed warm to his friendly response. “Why is that?”
Idris shrugged. “Because I am a farmer. Or, at least, I grew up one.”
“There are many soldiers that start out as farmers,” Jui said dismissively. “The difference with you is that you do not pretend to be something more than what you are.”
As if to emphasize Jui’s words, Meic and his cronies came swaggering up to the table of food, looking haughty and superior.
“Befriending the help?” Meic asked with a sneer. “I suppose she is more your level, but I would think that you would want to at least try to live up to the position you have been given.”
Jui’s face grew pink, and she hurried back to her work.
Idris gave Meic the most scathing look he could muster. “Even if I were to become the king’s personal guard, I would rather speak to her than to someone like you.”
Idris had said worse to Meic in the past, but now Meic had a reputation to maintain in front of his new peers. He puffed out his chest and jabbed a finger in Idris’s direction.
“It was nothing more than luck that placed you in the Royal Guard, farm boy. I have always been a better fighter than you, and I will always be a better soldier.”
Idris was still fuming over Meic’s treatment of Jui, and so his reply was impulsive.
“Would you care to prove that?”
Cato and Leor nudged each other, clearly hoping for the entertainment of a fight. The girl, whose name Idris had learned was Jola, merely looked bored.
Meic glanced over at Jola, and Idris surmised that she was the one he was most concerned with impressing. Seeing her expression of disinterest, Meic shrugged.
“I already know the outcome, so why miss training over it?”
Idris balled his fists. “You are a coward.”
A stunned silence greeted his words. Now Meic couldn’t walk away, even if he had wanted to.
“I am no coward,” Meic hissed. “Beating you will not only be easy, it will be a pleasure.”
“Shall we go to the old well?” suggested Leor.
Idris frowned. “The old well?”
“It is the traditional place for challenges between first year trainees,” Jola drawled.
Idris knew a lot of things that the other army trainees didn’t, but he had not been told about the old well. Meic seemed to find Idris’s gap in knowledge amusing, which only goaded Idris on.
“Sounds perfect,” he grated.
The five of them left their meals behind and walked outside. Idris followed the other trainees toward an area behind the barracks, where they would be out of sight from the casual passerby. Down a gentle slope, close to the outer wall, was an old stone well, disused and in disrepair. The mortar around the stones was crumbling and the system for lowering a bucket was completely gone.
Leaning against the outer wall were two wooden staffs, each about five feet long. Meic tossed one at Idris and picked up the other. He hopped on top of the well and adjusted his balance.
“First to fall loses,” Cato said with a smile that Idris found distrustful.
Idris climbed up on the well. His footing was shaky at best. The stones wobbled as he stepped on them and they seemed close to falling to the ground.
“What are the rules?” Idris asked uncertainly.
Meic bared his teeth. “No rules.”
With that, he swung his staff at Idris’s feet. Idris hopped to avoid the blow, but his haste made him land awkwardly. He struggled to regain his footing, but not before Meic had swung again and hit him soundly on the shoulder.
Idris reeled forward, his gaze fixed on the well opening between the two young men. The well went down so far that he couldn’t see the bottom. He couldn’t even see if there was any water to break a fall. He dropped to a knee and looked up at his opponent.
“Meic, this is dangerous. One of us could die.”
Cato and Leor snickered, elbowing each other. Meic’s eyes narrowed and he said, “Exactly.”
Idris brought up his staff to fend off the blow that Meic aimed at his head, but his mind was stunned.
He knew that Meic had never liked him, and he certainly bore no love for him, but he had never entertained the thought that Meic wanted to kill him. The worst they had ever done to each other was trade punches or humiliate one another. Had life in the city with these new friends really changed Meic so much?
Idris thought about Meic’s poor father, Owen, and what he would think if he could see his son at that moment. The thought made Idris angry, and he whipped his staff at Meic’s legs in response.
Meic dodged the blow easily, but his movements became more careful now that Idris was fighting back.
Every farm boy knew how to fight with a staff. It was one of the few weapons available in such remote areas, and it was a way to pass time during the winter season. Sometimes there were even tournaments to see who was the best in the valley. Idris knew from these tournaments that he and Meic were fairly evenly matched, which meant Idris would have to find ways to turn his additional Royal Guard training into an advantage.
They circled each other a couple of times and evaluated the situation. The forced proximity of the well wall made any thought of fancy maneuvers seem like a bad idea, so Idris kept his movements simple. Meic seemed to have the same idea.
Idris jabbed with the butt of his staff at Meic’s ankles. Meic swiped away the blow and returned one of his own with the opposite end of his staff. The attack was aimed at Idris’s shoulder, but a quick sidestep prevented contact.
The clack of wood sounded loudly as the two young men traded blows in rapid succession. Idris twirled his staff to knock an attack from Meic off course, and then he thrust forward
with one of his own.
The staff made contact with Meic’s stomach. The boy exhaled forcibly and sagged to one knee. Idris moved around the well to attack again, but the indirect movement cost him the advantage. Meic recovered enough to ward off the blow and get back on his feet.
The clack of wood filled the air again, and Idris began to feel frustrated that he was not able to gain an advantage over his opponent. After all, he was training to be a member of the Royal Guard. It was true that he was still at the beginning of his training, but it seemed to him that he should still have the upper hand over a regular army trainee.
Meic also seemed to be getting frustrated, and his brow furrowed in concentration. His attacks were growing fiercer, and he threw all of his energy into each movement. Idris had to use more of his own energy to ward them off.
After defending against a particularly tricky move, Idris glanced at Meic just in time to see him give a small nod to his companions.
Cato nudged one of the stones that Idris was standing on, causing it to slip from its place and tumble to the ground.
Idris’s arms wheeled in a vain effort to maintain balance, but he knew that he could not stop himself from falling. To his terror, he found that he was heading toward the well opening. His heart pounded wildly in his chest.
Just as he was about to fall forward into that dark opening, a wave of light and heat swept around him. The force of it propelled him out of harm’s way, and he landed hard on the ground. Iona’s irritated voice sounded in his head.
How many times do I have to save you from stupidity, farmer?
Idris had no answer for her. He was too busy catching his breath and trying to overcoming the shock of what had just happened.
“You cheated,” shouted an outraged Meic.
Idris looked up to see that the wave of power that had saved him had also knocked everyone else to the ground.
“What?” he sputtered as he sat up, struggling to get his partisan out of the way.
Meic was on his feet again, his face mottled with fury. “You cheated, you worm. You cannot use magic in a fair fight.”
Idris jumped to his feet and rushed to grab Meic by the front of his tunic. “I cheated? I was not the one who had his crony knock a rock out from under your opponents’ feet!”
“I do not know what you are talking about,” Meic lied unapologetically.
Idris flung his hand in Cato’s direction. “I saw what he did,” he shouted.
Cato came forward and pushed Idris away from Meic. “Are you calling me a cheater?” he demanded.
Idris clenched his jaw and spat out his reply. “That is why I pointed to you.”
“How dare you question my honor,” Cato said, his face a mask of outrage and disbelief.
“I did not see him do anything,” Leor shouted, adding to the lie.
“You are just trying to cover up the fact that you cheated with magic,” accused Meic. He jabbed Idris sharply in the chest with his fingers.
Idris could not believe what he was hearing. “I did not cheat,” he yelled. “You said there were no rules.”
“So you admit to using magic,” Meic said triumphantly.
“Of course he used magic,” Jola said, rolling her eyes. “That was never a question.”
How dare they? Is there no honor left in this generation?
Iona sounded as angry as Idris felt.
Meic smiled smugly and folded his arms across his chest. “I am going to tell everyone what a cheater you are, Idris. Everyone will know.”
“I DID NOT CHEAT!”
Extend your hand to them, Iona urged him. Let them feel the power of my wrath.
Part of Idris was tempted to do as Iona said, but then he remembered the smoldering remains of his bed. Would Iona set them on fire out of revenge?
Idris honestly didn’t know what his partisan was capable of, and he already knew that she had a temper.
Extend your hand, Iona repeated. Let me work through you.
Idris’s anger was replaced with fear. He kept his arms pinned tightly at his side.
“No.”
Meic and his friends were so busy congratulating each other on their perceived victory that they didn’t notice the change in Idris.
“No, what?” asked Cato with a taunting grin.
Do it, farmer. Make them pay for their lies.
Idris could feel Iona’s emotions swirling through his mind, and it was becoming difficult to separate them from his own.
They are without honor. They would defame you. You cannot let this pass.
He knew she was right. Meic and his friends would twist what had happened to cast Idris in the worst possible light. By the end of the day he would be known as a cheater and worse.
The only way to stop them was to teach them a lesson.
Idris began to raise his hand, and he could feel Iona’s power tingling down his arm. He could see the light from his partisan over his shoulder, slowly growing brighter and brighter.
Jola was the first to notice. She got the attention of the others, and Idris watched Meic’s smug expression waver.
Make them pay.
“Idris!”
The unfamiliar voice jolted Idris out of the daze that he had been falling into. He immediately let his arm drop back to his side.
The entire group of trainees looked up the slope that led to the barracks. Idris saw an imposing figure silhouetted there. He recognized the dark face of Palti, and he had never been so relieved. Palti strode purposefully toward them, and Idris could tell from his expression that the man recognized the danger of the situation.
“Such fighting has been banned among trainees,” Palti said to all of them. “Report to your instructor and request proper punishment.”
Even Leor was dwarfed by Palti’s height and build, and there was a fierce look in the man’s eye that commanded obedience. Meic and his friends hurried away, too intimidated to argue or say anything contrary to what they had been told.
Idris was about to follow them, but Palti placed a hand on his shoulder.
“I want you to come with me, Idris.”
Idris’s stomach dropped when he thought of what might happen next. Once again he had placed others in danger, and he did not think Captain Cowan would take kindly to the news.
“Yes, sir,” he choked, barely able to speak from the dread that pushed at him from all sides.
Chapter Sixteen: Fellow Strangers
As they began to walk, Palti explained how he had found them.
“Demas reported that he had not seen you when training began this morning, and I volunteered to come find you. I am glad that I did, for you seem to have a knack for getting into trouble.”
Instead of leading Idris back to the palace, Palti made his way to the section of the training grounds that was nearest to the coast. The tall stone wall that surrounded the entire military compound separated Palti and Idris from the ocean, but there were steps built parallel to the wall that allowed them to climb to the top. From there they could look down the cliff to the crashing waves below.
Idris kept expecting some kind of lecture, but Palti remained silent for several minutes. He simply looked out at the ocean, breathing deeply and calmly. His silence gave Idris a chance to study him in detail, taking in his foreign features.
Palti was a head taller than Idris, and his shoulders were broad and muscled. His face had wide, blunt features, and his black eyes sparkled with life. His scarlet uniform was a striking contrast to his dark coloring, and it was clear that he wore the uniform with pride.
Palti’s sword was without a sheath, exposing a forward-angled blade that was wider at the tip than at the base. It was shaped like a basilisk, with emeralds jutting out the back like spikes and the tail curving around the hilt. The head of the basilisk formed the tip of the sword, and the detail etched into the blade gave it an eerily lifelike appearance. It had eyes of ruby and fangs crafted from inlaid diamonds.
Idris glanced up to see that Palt
i was looking at him, and he flushed with embarrassment. However, Palti didn’t seem to mind the scrutiny. He gave a friendly smile to the young man and returned to looking out at the water.
He gestured west with his hand. “Across the sea is the kingdom of Zoma, which is ruled by Queen Arminell’s father. North of that land is a nation called Dia, and that is where my parents were born.”
Idris knew very little about the world outside of Rest Stone Valley, and he listened with great interest.
Palti’s expression grew wistful as he went on. “I have never been there myself, but my father and mother describe it as a beautiful land filled with ancient trees and flowing rivers. They loved their home very much.”
Idris’s brow creased. “Why did they leave?”
“In the years before I was born, Dia was at war with itself. The young emperor had died without an heir, and two powerful families were each fighting to take control. The city where my parents lived was destroyed. Many thousands were left without a home. My father secured passage on a ship headed for Calaris, and he married my mother so that she could come with him.”
Idris’s eyes widened slightly. “They only got married in order to escape?”
Palti chuckled. “They were very fond of each other. They had grown up as good friends. My mother had no family living, and my father did not want to leave her behind.”
Idris nodded slowly. He could understand that.
“They settled here in Marath,” Palti continued. “Many refugees did. King Nikolas’s father was very kind to those fleeing from the war, even though he remained neutral in regard to the power struggle. Then, the year after I was born, the war in Dia ended and most of the refugees went home again.”
“But not your parents,” Idris guessed.
“No,” agreed Palti. “Not my parents. They had built a life here, and they were happy. Also, since I was born here, I was a citizen of Calaris by right. They knew there would be opportunities for me here that were not available in Dia.”
“Like the Treasury,” said Idris.