by G Mottram
‘Not if they knew who you were – they would want you alive so you could be possessed. Also, much of our war remains silent. Guns and explosives are used, of course, but these ancient weapons still have their place. Remember, both sides want our war to be kept secret. With the sword, shuriken and bow a battle can be fought half a mile outside a city and no one would know.’
Jason looked up at him and nodded his understanding.
‘Finally, of course,’ Schmidt smiled tightly, ‘the possessed and even the Touched are not easily stopped with bullets. You slow them down by taking their limbs and finish them by removing their heads.’
Jason’s mouth fell open.
Schmidt nodded at four students in different positions around the mat.
‘Martinez, Slattery, Martin senior, Harrison.’
The other students backed away to kneel off the mat as the four chosen stepped forward.
Martinez was a Mediterranean looking young woman, olive skinned with long dark hair scraped back into a tight bun. Harrison was a short but muscular youth of perhaps nineteen who reminded Jason of Mouse, apart from the fact Harrison had over-large, staring eyes. Martinez had chosen a body belt full of blunted wooden shurikens and Harrison had a quarterstaff tipped with a slim, wooden blade at each end. Jason glanced over at Carl Slattery and Marshal Martin. They both held wooden swords with wickedly curved blades. Carl’s eyes were glinting slits of malicious intent.
Schmidt faced Jason, again talking loudly in his clipped, Germanic tones. ‘You have been taught the basics of your Gift. You need to practice these until they’re second nature, until you no longer have to think what you are doing, just as you don’t think of how your fist is formed, or how your arm extends when you punch. You will face multiple opponents when hunting the Brethren so we begin practicing now against their stealth weapons. Later you will learn to deal with guns and explosives.’
Jason nodded, forcing himself not to swallow loudly. Schmidt hadn’t finished though.
‘This is no game. These students will try to hurt you, if their weapons hit, you will be injured. You must use your Gift to neutralise them before they reach you and to protect yourself against their weapons. Jakra alone will not save you here. Do not hold back – they are also learning to survive against the powerful blows of the Touched and perhaps even a possessed. You will not help them learn by trying to be gentle. Understood?’
‘Yes, Master.’
‘Full contact - understood?’ Schmidt said to the students, waiting all around him, tense and ready just fifteen feet away.
‘Yes, Master,’ they snapped back as one.
Carl slowly lowered his sword tip towards Jason’s throat and smiled.
Jason’s heart was pounding but he winked back at Carl.
‘Prepare,’ Schmidt said, backing away from Jason to the mat edge.
This must be serious – the masters didn’t usually give any warnings. Jason raised his hands, breathing deeply and pulling in energy. The energy ball deep in his stomach began spinning and the air around his white knuckles shimmered.
‘Full contact – go.’ yelled Schmidt and a wooden shuriken streaked towards Jason from Martinez.
He blocked it, with his air-gloved hand then sent an air-fist to smash Martinez off the mat. The three men raced towards him, weapons raised. Jason air-punched towards Carl who double arm blocked but Jason’s blow sent him sprawling backwards off the mat anyway. He air-sliced Marshal’s legs from underneath him and then leapt out of the way as Harrison jumped at him from a couple of metres away with his blade scything down.
Jason landed in a roll and pushed back an open hand. Harrison was launched off the ground to land metres away. A slight scrape warned Jason and he span around to air-chop Carl’s wrist and send his sword spinning to the ground. Jason air-jabbed him in the stomach and as Carl bent over double, Jason surged into a flying kick towards him.
Smack. A wooden shuriken slapped into Jason’s thigh as Carl dived away from his kick. Jason’s leg buckled as he landed and he sank to his knees. Instantly he air-chopped Martinez who was about to launch another flying star at him. She cart wheeled over the matting and stayed down this time.
‘Stop,’ Schmidt called and everyone froze. Carl and Marshal were back on their feet, Harrison was sitting up and Martinez managed to raise her head.
‘You would be dead now, Jason,’ Schmidt said, walking around the five of them. ‘When the Brethren use these weapons, they are poisoned. You are Gifted – your purpose is to destroy quickly, efficiently, ruthlessly using your powers. You do not have the luxury of physical attack to make you feel like a real man. You win in the shortest possible time or else you will die and your team will die with you.’
Without warning, Schmidt’s open hands flashed out four times, once at each of Jason’s opponents. All four students flew off the mat, rolling and sliding straight into the white marble walls.
‘That is all it takes. Am I a coward for using powers they do not have, for not allowing them in close enough to use their weapons? No - this is not a competition with rules and prizes. Out there…’ Schmidt threw one hand at one of the high, arched windows, ‘… you kill or be killed and you do it quickly. Understood?’
‘Understood, Master.’ replied Jason. From the edges of his vision, Jason saw Carl and the others struggling back to kneel at the mat edge.
Schmidt turned to them, his voice icily measured. ‘Each one of you could be fighting for your lives tomorrow. Treat each training session as your last,’ he pointed one ram-rod of a finger around all the students. ‘Do you understand?’
‘Yes, Master.’ They all shouted back as loud as they could. Jason knew Schmidt’s finger could send an air-dart to break any of their ribs if he wasn’t convinced of their comprehension.
‘Then why have you all forgotten your training?’ Schmidt shot dark looks at each of Jason’s opponents: Marshal had spots of coughed-up blood over his body armour. ‘You will face blows harder than this from the Touched and a possessed will rip off your limbs two at a time. Do not hope your armour will absorb all the blows, do not be so stupid as to try to block them – push the attack to one side or get out of the way. Duck, dive, roll, twist, dodge.’
Schmidt focussed on Carl. ‘When should any Jakra block ever meet force head-on?’
‘Never, master.’ Carl replied.
Schmidt crossed his arms in front of him, imitating Carl’s earlier block, and strode forwards. ‘And yet you chose to defend an air-strike like this. Perhaps you thought Jason is only a boy, his attacks are nothing? Perhaps you wished to be macho, prove yourself against the powers of a Gifted?’
‘I messed up, Master.’ Carl said, shooting a baleful glance at Jason. This drubbing wasn’t going to help their relationship.
Schmidt stopped five feet away from Carl and pointed a finger at him. ‘You wish to be a shield, to protect the Gifted… do not “mess up” again.’ Without warning, Schmidt shot out a finger of hardened air. Carl twisted and snapped his hand up to knock the shimmering air-dart to one side where it smashed over a heavy weapons rack.
‘Better,’ Schmidt said, then turned his back on Carl to glare at the other students. He pointed at Jason, kneeling in the centre of the mat. ‘Only when you reach this Gifted boy, will he stop hurting you.’
Jason looked around the twelve pairs of eyes, staring at him from behind the face protecting bars of their helmets. All of them, even Anna, stared back at him with grim determination. He guessed it could start to get a little rough from now on.
‘Now, we will try again – try as if your lives depend on it.’ said Schmidt.
And try again they did – many times over. Jason faced four, five and even six attackers at a time, all armed and all determined to take him out. He threw out air strikes, kicks and blocks without thinking and flipped, rolled and ran around the mat like a cat on speed. Despite his Gift coming to him ever more naturally, out of seven further bouts, Jason was still hit five times – twice by Anna.
>
She was a superb Jakra gymnast. Her body, although heavier set than perhaps would be deemed lithe, was strong, fast and supple. She seemed to be able to see Jason’s air-attacks more clearly than any of the other students and instantly read his intended moves. She knocked aside his air-strikes, leapt, ducked and weaved her way across the mat towards him and too often got close enough to strike with her slim wooden katana.
Carl got to him once, on the very last bout.
Jason was facing six of them, including Anna and the shuriken wielding Martinez. He took them all down at least once but Anna and Carl avoided most of the force of his blows and Martinez kept up a distracting storm of missiles despite Jason knocking her back into the wall as Schmidt had done. Anna almost reached him. He swept her legs away at the last moment, leaping over her whistling Katana but as he landed, Carl rolled forward from where Jason had felled him earlier to whirl his sword at Jason’s ribs.
Jason leapt away in time to miss most of the force but the wooden tip sliced through his tee-shirt and opened up his side in a stinging but shallow line.
Schmidt had ordered a break at that point, telling Jason to stay.
As the others filed out of the training hall and into the white corridor, Jason sank to the floor, bleeding and exhausted. He just caught Anna’s concerned face glancing back as she closed the door.
Crashes and bangs of smashing furniture from both mock buildings resounded around the hall and drowned out Jason’s ragged panting. During one of his bouts, a shaven-headed man had come flying out of the pub window. He’d leapt up, shaken himself off and dived back in through the same opening. Jason had taken a shuriken hit from Martinez for glancing at that.
Schmidt looked down at him. ‘A good thing that was only a wooden Katana – a real one would have sliced through your ribs like paper. You would be trying to push your heart back inside at this moment.’
He lifted his hand indicating Jason should get up and led him to a small room off the main hall. As they walked, Jason pressed his sliced T-shirt to his chest to slow the bleeding
‘Sit,’ Schmidt said as they entered the room. It was a small, first aid centre – a chair and stretcher in on corner, a bed and sink along one wall and cupboards filling in the gaps.
Schmidt took off Jason’s tee shirt, sized up his wound and reached for some ointment, liniment and tape from one of the cupboards. ‘You will live,’ he said as he bandaged Jason up.
‘You must be harder in your attacks – you do not help them by holding back. If they do not learn to defend against full power then they will all die the moment they face any of the Touched. And if your team dies, then so will you. Once they recognise who and what you are, you will be a magnet, a target for every attack. Any Brethren, from the lowest agent to the most powerful Touched and Glimmerman will be desperate to take you for possession by their demon master. You understand this?’
‘Yes, Master,’ Jason said, automatically.
Schmidt looked at him for a moment, his strong-jawed visage unreadable. ‘Still, you have progressed faster than any of us could have imagined. It would be a great loss to see you slaughtered.’
‘Uhh, thanks,’ Jason said.
A hint of a smile flickered over Schmidt’s lips. ‘Go. Clean up. Have lunch. There is more to come this afternoon.’
‘Yes, Master,’ Jason said and with a groan that he only allowed in his mind, he stood up and left the sick room.
***
Freed from training, Jason flopped down on the riverbank close to the guesthouse. It was Saturday lunchtime and he should have been looking forward to lunch on the sun-soaked lawn at the Old Mill, bantering with Miranda and groaning at Dad’s supremely un-funny jokes.
Those days were gone… long gone. The world of demons and Brethren had opened up all around him and nothing would ever be the same again. He’d never felt so alone. It would be so good to talk to Dad right now, to touch base with something familiar, even if it meant a row. Miranda – he even wanted to talk to Miranda.
‘You okay, how’s your cut?’ Anna stood over him, silhouetted against the sun and brilliant blue sky above.
Jason sat up, stifling a groan. ‘I’ll live… so Schmidt says.’
Anna glanced down at his blood-stained T-shirt and sat down next to him.
‘You did really well in there, you know? Everyone is talking about how quickly you have come into your Gift, how natural it seems to you. We’ve been up against a lot more experienced Gifted and they’ve not done half as well. You just need to be harder – make sure that once we’re hit, we don’t get up again. Leaving someone like Carl still mobile and that close to you was a big mistake.’
‘It won’t happen again,’ Jason said, touching his bandage gingerly.
Anna stared at him for a long moment. She’d quite small eyes but they were just as startling a blue colour as Alan Brash’s big, film star ones.
‘Just don’t do too much damage – you may need him to be in one piece fairly soon… that goes for me as well.’
‘What are you on about?’ Jason asked, easing back down to lie on the grass and stare at the blue of the sky.
‘Oh, nothing…’
‘Apart from…?’
‘… you’re going to need a couple of shields to train with soon…’
Jason took a moment to realise where Anna was going with this, then groaned. He closed his eyes in resignation. ‘And I’m going to get you two?’
‘There’s no need to sound so happy about it.’
Jason’s lips slipped in to a smile despite himself. ‘Well I’d want you watching my back… when you’re not flying fifteen feet into the nearest wall anyway…’
‘I was just trying to make you look good.’ Anna said, poking him in the good ribs.
‘Yeah, right… but Carl? We’ve not exactly… clicked have we?’
‘Carl’s a prat a lot of the time but I’ve team-trained with him for a couple of years now and we are the next two to be assigned as shields. We’re the best of what’s left, I’m afraid. We actually work pretty well together – work with each other’s strengths and weaknesses, read intentions... all that stuff. He only got to you with his blade because I took the fall to distract you at exactly the right time.’
‘Can’t I just have you?’
‘Afraid not – we come as a package.’
‘And Brash will agree to this even if I say that Carl would rather stab my back than watch it?’
Anna hesitated and Jason turned his head to look at her. A smile pulled at her lips. ‘Oh Brash will absolutely insist upon me being with the most powerfully Gifted student in the abbey.’
Jason stared back at her. ‘Why?’
Anna glanced around. ‘Well,’ her voice dropped to almost a whisper, ‘it’s the worst kept secret in the abbey but no one is supposed to mention it…’
‘… yeah… but you’re going to.’
Anna grinned. ‘My name isn’t really Smith, that’s just a name anybody takes here if they want to hide their past…’
Jason’s forehead wrinkled before he puzzled it out.
‘Your surname’s Brash, isn’t it - you’re Alan Brash’s daughter?’
Anna nodded. ‘And darling daddy who barely acknowledges me in public, “for my own protection”, of course, wants me teamed up with the Gifted “Golden Boy”.’
‘Great,’ Jason sighed and flopped down onto his back again. How tightly was he being reeled in to Brash’s empire - now he and Brash’s daughter were going to be responsible for keeping each other alive?
‘Hey,’ Anna said, flicking his ear, ‘you should be honoured – you’re getting to hang out with Darkston Abbey royalty.’
Jason raised an eyebrow. ‘Lucky me. Are there any more of you “royalty” around that I should know about – brothers or sisters?’
Anna looked down. ‘No… just me. My mum died when I was about one.’
‘Oh hell,’ Jason said, ‘sorry. I didn’t mean to…’
‘Don’t w
orry about it – you didn’t know.’ Anna looked back up and forced a smile. ‘Come on, let’s get some food inside us – we’re off to the pub this afternoon.’
‘What?’
Anna started to stand. ‘You may have noticed the rather large buildings at either end of the training hall?’
‘Oh,’ Jason said, groaning to his feet and following her to the refectory door, ‘that pub.’
***
That afternoon, after lunch, Jason glimpsed Eddie, Erin and Oliver in the training hall for the first time. Eddie grinned at him but there was no time to speak as his group were led outside into the grounds by a female Master Jason had not seen before.
Cadaveril took Jason’s group back from Schmidt and led the thirteen students to the simulated pub. For the next three hours Jason faced a constant hail of shurikens and throwing knives as blade wielding assailants leaped at him over and under tables, burst in through doorways, windows and out of wardrobes.
He did well. His reactions and awareness had been trained since he could toddle and were now becoming even sharper. As using his Gift became more and more automatic he was also being more inventive. He flipped up tables to block shurikens, pushed furniture over to block doors and span chairs into charging, body-armoured attackers.
He didn’t survive unscathed however, not by a long way. Martinez was so quick and deadly with her unending supply of missiles and she never stayed still long enough for him to take her out completely. She hit him a half dozen times, each strike accompanied by Cadaveril appearing from nowhere and hissing “poison – dead.’
Anna and Carl got him again, too. Anna hadn’t been boasting before lunch. She and Carl did work well together, seeming to read each other’s minds in attack and defence. They saved each other from Jason’s air strikes and Gift-hurled debris countless times and one would distract him with efficient, vicious attacks while the other edged ever closer. Each of them reached him once. Carl’s curved blade took a chunk of flesh out of his arm and Anna’s weapons, a pair of long-knives this time, somehow flashed across his throat and abdomen simultaneously as he was sending Carl through a window.