The Buried Symbol (The Ruins of Issalia Book 1)

by Jeffrey L. Kohanek

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  He turned to see Ashland beside him. For a second, he didn’t recognize her, having never seen her with her hair down. With the late afternoon sun shining down, she almost glowed. The curls of her long brown hair was a perfect complement to her tawny skin. Her striking blue eyes squinted in the sunlight as she looked out across the colorful valley.

  Without removing his eyes from the girl, Brock replied, “Yes. Quite beautiful.”

  She glanced toward him, giving a smile at the compliment. Her smile seemed to increase her beauty exponentially. Brock’s heart began to thump.

  “What’ve you got there?” she asked.

  He had forgotten about the food he was holding.

  “Oh. Just some rolls and a bowl of stew. I missed lunch, so Shirley helped me out.”

  “Would you like to sit and eat?” she asked.

  He nodded. “That’s a good idea.”

  “Come on then.”

  She descended the stairs with Brock close behind. They crossed the lawn with her in the lead. Ashland took a seat on a bench near a large leaf tree, patting on the spot beside her. He sat and scooped a spoon full of stew into his mouth. The taste was good, but the stew had grown cold. As he chewed, he unwrapped the rolls.

  “Would you like a roll?”

  She nodded, tearing off a small piece and popping it in her mouth.

  They sat in quiet, enjoying each other’s presence. He found himself thinking that this was something special, enjoying this amazing sight with Ashland beside him.

  She cleared her throat, breaking the silence. “This is only my second autumn here, but I can’t imagine growing tired of this sight.”

  “It is beautiful,” Brock said. “Did the leaves change colors and fall off where you grew up?”

  “Yes…and no,” she replied. After a moment, she explained, “When I lived with my parents, we were in a place where the leaves did change colors. When the leaves fell, we would push them into piles so I could jump in them. It’s one of my fondest memories.”

  Sensing she was sharing something, he remained silent.

  “When I was ten summers, my parents sent me to the coast to live with an uncle. That’s where I began my education, preparing for the Academy. There, the leaves did not change. I was no longer allowed to play in the fallen leaves. Actually, I was no longer allowed to play at all.” Her demeanor became somber as she fell silent. She looked out at the horizon when she next spoke. “But I guess it was worth it. I did it. I’m now an apprentice at the Academy.”

  Brock nodded. He understood. “I believe there are a few students who’ve made sacrifices to be here. I also believe those students appreciate the opportunity far more than those who’ve had everything handed to them.”

  Ashland turned toward him. Her blue eyes studied his intently.

  “I’m sorry, Brock,” she said.

  He was confused. “You’re sorry?”

  “Yes.” She put her hand on his, staring down at the long grass. “I’m sorry I was rude to you when you first came here. As you are now aware, I had to make some sacrifices to be here. I seem to ignore that there are others who appreciate the opportunity.”

  Her eyes met his, drifting closer. Feeling an intense draw, a desire that began with his brain and extended to his body, Brock closed the distance. They were almost touching, holding still as if locked in an invisible state of tension. The tension increased, their breath quickening, and then it broke.

  The kiss was warm, deep, and urgent. It seemed as if the kiss had always been there, waiting for months to happen. When it finally did, the release was wonderful. He felt like he had never felt before. He didn’t just connect with this girl. In this kiss, Brock knew he could be more, was more, than he ever knew.

  The thump and clang of the bowl and spoon tumbling to the ground disturbed the perfect moment. They pulled away, glancing down at the bowl as it rocked on its side in the grass.

  His eyes met hers. A chuckle burst out from Brock. Another followed. By the third, she had joined him. They laughed for a bit until she suddenly leaned close and hugged him. Reciprocating the hug, he squeezed her as tight as he dare. He realized she was crying, her face buried in his shoulder. He just held her, enjoying the contact, yet concerned at the same time.

  After a bit, he spoke. “What is it? Can I help?”

  She pulled away, wiping tears from her face. “I’ve just been so lonely. I…I haven’t let anyone get close since I came here.” She looked into his eyes. “I’ve been fighting it for some time, but you interest me, Brock Talenz. I…I like you.”

  He smiled. Hearing those words from this girl lit a flame of pure joy in his heart. “I like you too. I really like you. I just didn’t think you liked me. In fact, I had no idea how you felt.”

  She nodded. “I know.” She smiled. “But, now you know.”

  Brock smiled. “Now I know.”

  They sat in silence for bit, Ashland’s hand gripping his as if he would disappear if she let go.

  “Did you love her?” she asked in a quiet voice.

  “What? Who?” Brock asked before his mind cleared. “Do you mean Amber?”

  Without looking at him, she replied, “I heard that you two were…close.”

  He thought for a moment. How did he honestly feel about Amber? In reality, he barely knew her.

  “I wouldn’t say that I loved her.” He considered how to describe what he felt. “I…was attracted to her I guess. We met by chance, and…she expressed interest in me. However, we never had time to see where it would go. In reality, I only knew her a few days…and then…she was gone.”

  He was surprised by how little of the sting of Amber’s death remained. His connection with Ashland seemed to make the loss of Amber seem less painful. He realized that his relationship with Amber was superficial, never getting the chance to be anything more than physical. With Ashland, there was something profound between them before they had even kissed.

  He turned toward her, cupping her cheek in his hand as he stared into her eyes.

  “I can tell you that I feel something different with you. Something…special. Something I’ve never felt before…about anyone.”

  Her eyes were fixed on his, shifting as if to search out the truth of his words. A tear slid down her cheek. Her face drew close until her cheek touched his. He felt her breath on his neck. Their heads slowly turned until their lips met. He melted into the kiss. The world swam. It was glorious.

  When he pulled away, her eyes remained closed, his hand still cupping her cheek. He swiped his thumb, wiping the tear away.

  Her eyes opened, and she smiled. It was as if the sun had suddenly appeared in the sky.

  She pulled back, wiping her eyes. “I should get going. I have a few things to prepare for class tomorrow. Master Varius has high expectations.”

  “I understand,” Brock replied. “However, you need to understand that I plan to miss you until I see you again. I hope you can handle that.”

  She smiled. “I think I can handle that.”

  Brock bent and retrieved his bowl and spoon. “I better return these, or Shirley will have my hide for sure.”

  When they stood, Ashland kept her arm around his. The weight of her bumping into him as they walked was pleasant. They angled across the lawn to enter the doors closest to the Girls’ Wing. Brock walked her to the stairwell leading to her floor. The hallway was empty except for the two of them.

  “Goodnight, Brock,” she said, stepping away.

  Rather than release her, he pulled her close for one last kiss.

  “Goodnight,” she said, retreating.

  “Goodnight Ashland,” he replied, smiling.

  Even after she disappeared around the stairwell landing, his heart was singing. This girl. He felt something special for this girl. More than ever before, Brock thought that life was beautiful.

  CHAPTER 60

  Life was filled with pain. It seemed as if every inch of Brock’s body
hurt. He closed his eyes, willing the hot water to soak his aches away.

  It had now been four weeks since he and the other novices had moved from hand combat to weapons in their Paladin training. During those weeks, the students had been sparring with wooden swords, short and long, as well as quarterstaffs. Brock had fared well, getting the better of every foe he had faced until today.

  After the forms practice, Budakis had pulled him aside for a private conversation.

  “Mister Talenz, I’m sorry to do this to you, but I have no choice.” The large man stared into Brock’s eyes. “Your roommate has been thumping every opponent he’s faced.” He glanced over at Cameron, who was practicing his sword stances. “I try to match sparring partners so they’re similar in size or strength. Unfortunately, Cameron DeSanus has made that impossible. No other student over six feet can match his quickness. In fact, there are only a few students in the whole school who have any hope.” He turned back to Brock. “Only one of those students is in this class.”

  Brock stared into the man’s eyes as the words began to sink in.

  “You want me to spar with Cam?” He glanced toward his mountain of a roommate. “He’s twice my size. He’ll crush me.”

  Budakis smiled. “Perhaps. However, he cannot crush you if he can’t hit you.” He patted Brock’s shoulder. “Just don’t let him hit you and you’ll be fine.”

  He walked away, announcing the first six pairings. The twelve students, in groups of two, spread out to find their own space on the floor. The other students waited on the benches near the changing rooms. Brock sat next to Cameron. His massive roommate leaned over to whisper to him.

  “I wonder who Budakis will match me with today.”

  Brock snorted. “I wonder.”

  While staring at the floor before him, Brock’s mind raced. How was he going to spar with Cam and not be killed? He saw how the other students had fared. Broken bones were a regular occurrence. Two students were injured badly enough that they required a week of rest even after being healed. Though required to wear a helmet when sparring, one boy was hit in the head so hard that he still couldn’t walk straight. That was two weeks ago.

  When the matches ended, Budakis called out the next six pairings. Though he knew it was coming, Brock winced when his name was called right after Cam’s. At least the big guy had the grace to look surprised. The look of surprise quickly became a grin. As they strolled to an open area, he pleaded to Cam.

  “You can at least have the courtesy to stop smiling. I know you’re going to kill me.”

  Brock slipped his helmet on. He didn’t want his brains to leak out when he was thumped in the head.

  Cam shook his head. “No. You don’t understand. I was smiling because I think you’re the one person in the class who will provide a challenge. You’re quick, Brock. Really quick.”

  “Um…thanks. Somehow, I don’t feel better.”

  Brock stepped back, holding his quarterstaff in a ready position. Cam adjusted his shield before raising his wooden sword. They both nodded, and a flurry of action ensued.

  The rapid clacking of the wooden weapons colliding filled Brock’s ears. He concentrated, blocking the fast strokes of Cameron’s sword. Each offensive strike from Brock resulted in his having to dodge or block a counter-strike. Block, attack, block, dodge. Block, dodge, attack, dodge. They traded volleys repeatedly, leaving them both breathing heavily. Neither had experienced a match lasting nearly this long. This one was not only exceptional based on the duration, but also in the sheer fury of the exchanges.

  Beginning to tire, Brock decided to attempt to end the duel. After blocking an overhead strike from Cam, he went for a low swipe at Cam’s legs. The staff only nicked one boot. Cam had jumped, which would have been fine if he hadn’t jumped forward. Thrusting his wooden shield at Brock as he descended, Cam’s full weight slammed into Brock’s head and shoulder. Air blasted from Brock’s lungs when he was driven into the hard dirt floor with Cam on top. Brock’s vision blurred to white. Was he going blind?

  As Cameron rolled off him, pain rushed in. Brock tried to breathe, but air wouldn’t come. Panicking, he rolled to his side and a deep breath finally filled his lungs. He rapidly cycled through breaths, trying to catch up on the ones he had missed.

  His ears rang and his head pounded. He sat up, realizing that his whole body hurt. As his vision began to clear, he saw Budakis staring at him with Cam looking over the man’s shoulder. Next to Budakis was Jestin, the healer on duty. Jestin put his hand on Brock, closing his eyes. Jestin soon shook his head and stepped away. Budakis smiled and gripped Brock’s hand, pulling him to his feet.

  Budakis clapped him on the shoulder, causing him to wince. “Wonderful match, Brock. I knew you could challenge the big guy.”

  Budakis turned to address the others. “Now that you jokers got to watch the big match, it’s your turn. Pair up and get to work.”

  Cam put his meaty hand on Brock’s shoulder, walking him toward the changing room. “Are you okay? I became so caught up in the match that I forgot who I was fighting. I didn’t mean to hit you with my shield and land on you like that. It just…sort of happened.”

  Despite the pain he felt, Brock couldn’t help but smile. That was the longest flow of words he had ever heard from Cam.

  “I’m fine…I think,” Brock replied. “Jestin didn’t find anything serious enough to require healing. I just…hurt.”

  With a look of concern, Cameron asked, “Where do you hurt?”

  “Everywhere.”

  “Come on, we’re done here.” Cam put his arm around Brock. “It might help if you got a good long soak before lunch.”

  He nodded as Cam ushered him to the baths.

  That’s where Brock remained, letting the heat of the water ease the pain from his sore body. Other boys eventually came through the baths, getting a quick rinse before returning to the changing room to dress for lunch. He relaxed and let the hot water do its work. When the bell rang, Cam popped his head through the doorway.

  “Are you feeling any better? It’s time for lunch.”

  “Yeah. I know.”

  Brock waded to the side of the pool where his towel waited. He felt better, but would be sore tomorrow. He grabbed his towel and stepped out of the pool.

  “Just give me two minutes to get dressed and we can go eat.”

  Cameron nodded, smiling. He did love to eat.

  CHAPTER 61

  Brock held the bolt and brace in place while Parker used a big wrench to tighten the nut. As he lay under the catapult, Brock reflected on how he had witnessed their creation evolve.

  For the past three weeks, the team of five boys had worked hard to build the perfect siege engine. It began with long nights and every Seventh Day spent in the Foundry. With detailed direction from Benny, they crafted components for the catapult. They cut, drilled, and shaped heavy wooden beams for the frame and the launch arm. Using various casting forms, they poured steel to create all sorts of hardware.

  After two weeks of creating components, they moved to their assigned stall in the massive outbuilding behind the Engineering Yard. The building had fifty stalls, each large enough to store a horse and wagon. Thirty of those stalls had been cleared to provide the teams with a private working space to construct their catapults.

  For the past five days, the group of boys worked late into the night, assembling Benny’s work of art. As the machine began to take shape, their excitement grew. Nobody on the team other than Benny knew how an axle and wheels needed to be assembled. Only Benny understood why the stop rail had to be in a certain location in relation to the launch arm fulcrum. None but Benny understood why they reinforced the launch arm with steel bands. They just listened to Benny and did as directed.

  Cam, Lars, and Benny were off to grab a quick bite from the dining hall before going to bed. Brock had told them to go eat as he and Parker finished securing the last brace.

  With the brace in place, the machine was now almost finished.
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br />   Brock crawled from beneath the catapult and clapped a hand on Parker’s shoulder.

  “It’s looking good, don’t you think?”

  Parker finished tightening the nut and stood upright, wiping sweat off his brow with his sleeve.

  “I’ve never built anything before.” He stared at the catapult. “The ability to take a bunch of raw materials and turn them into something useful is pretty amazing.”

  Brock nodded. “You’re right about that. Thanks for the help.”

  Parker smiled, which seemed a rare thing.

  “Let’s stop for tonight,” Brock said. “Benny and I will come and do the final touches tomorrow.”

  He grabbed their cloaks from the wall hook, tossing one to Parker. It was cold outside, and they would want the cloaks for cover. Heck, it was cold inside their stall. They would be shivering if they hadn’t been exerting so much energy with the assembly.

  As Parker secured his cloak, his eyes were on Brock. “He hates you, you know.”

  Brock looked up at Parker. “Corbin?” A nod confirmed his guess. “I expected that was the case. I’m not too fond of him either.”

  “I think you underestimate what I’m trying to say.” Parker stepped closer, lowering his voice. “He hates you with a passion. He’s making it a personal mission to destroy you in any and every way he can. I’ve known Corbin for ten years. I’ve never seen him like this.”

  “Okay. So he hates me in a special way,” Brock replied. “I’m touched.”

  Parker looked down at the dirt floor. “When I first joined your team, he was upset, thinking I had betrayed him. Later, he decided on his own that I had made some clever move and was in position to make sure you fail.” Parker paused briefly. “He wanted me to sabotage your catapult.”