Spirit of the Sword: Pride and Fury (The First Sword Chronicles Book 1)

by Frances Smith

  Amy looked up at the night sky, at the moon shining full above them. "Hey, you remember that time on the first night of the Covenant festival, when I was nine, when we all sat outside on the beach all night hoping to see a naiad?"

  Michael smiled. "Felix was perishing cold, and I told him to go inside but he wouldn't, so I wrapped him up in my cloak - in this cloak here that I'm wearing now - and hugged him close like a bear with its cub. And then you both fell asleep."

  "Let us off, we were only little," Amy said. "And then the next morning you told us you'd seen a naiad just to make us jealous."

  "No I didn't, I really saw one," Michael said. He grinned. "Turns out I saw two all along."

  Amy laughed. "Yes, I suppose you did. God under wave, Felix..." she tailed off, letting her memories of that sweet boy carry her off. Of his nervousness, of the way he would smile a little before saying something important, of the way his face would light up from a compliment. Memories of how dear he was, how gentle, how trusting, how innocent. "Do you ever wonder what he'd have turned out to be, if it wasn't...?"

  "I don't need to wonder, I know," Michael said. "He'd have been the best of all of us."

  "Probably." Amy was quiet for a moment. "He'd have been ashamed to know me today, wouldn't he?"

  "No," Michael said. "He loved you."

  "More fool him," Amy said. "I'm ashamed to know me today. I'm sorry, Michael. You've got a rare opportunity here, and all I could see was the reflection of my own frustration. I'm sorry."

  "You don't have to apologise to me for nothing, our Amy, you know that," Michael said. "We're like family. We are family."

  "Even if you do forgive me, I still had to say it." Amy lifted up Magnus Alba and pointed it at Michael. "Now, let's fight."

  "What?"

  "Come on, we haven't sparred once since I came back, it'll be fun. I've got a blunt tourney blade in my pack I can use instead of this if you'd rather."

  "If you wouldn't mind," Michael said. "But... I couldn't stand it if I hurt you Amy."

  "Don't worry, I've got enough armour on to stop a spike from a man-of-war, and those things can puncture Leviathan scales," Amy said as she retrieved the tourney blade of whalebone from her pack and raised it up. "Now, even though we're friends I want you to go all out with me, Michael; I'll know if you're holding back."

  "Don't worry," Michael drew his swords and settled into one of the guards Amy had seen Gideon teaching him. "I wouldn't insult you with anything but my best."

  Michael sprang at her, his swords streaking through the night, but Amy ignored them as she charged towards Michael. Perhaps two swords would confuse some opponents, but she had trained to fight octopi and squid both and well understood how to fight someone with more weapons than you. She would trust to her armour to keep her safe from Michael's blows, while she closed in for the kill.

  Michael's spatha glanced off the pauldron of her left shoulder. Amy smiled, and only just in time remembered that her war-cry would wake the others. She swung the tourney blade in a wide arc. Michael parried the blow with Duty, but Amy's strength bore him back and knocked him to the ground. He was on his feet at once. Amy swung again, but Michael ducked beneath her guard. Amy stumbled back, but Michael was relentless. He thrust Duty for her neck, and his eyes widened in surprise when it glanced harmlessly off her gorget.

  "What did I tell you?" Amy said as she raised the tourney blade. "Naiad armour doesn't have any weaknesses!"

  She brought the blade down. Michael raised his arm and caught the blow on his manica. Amy's strength forced him to his knees, his armoured plates groaning in protest. Michael looked up at her, and didn't move.

  Amy raised her sword again, and brought it down. Michael took the blow with Duty this time, and shuddered but did not move. Amy raised her sword and brought it down a third time, and Michael took it again. Amy raised her sword the fourth time-

  "Got you," and Michael snatched up his spatha with amazing speed and thrust it straight for Amy's armpit, where the armour was weakest and now exposed by her raising her sword above her head.

  Damn! Amy tried to lower her arms protectively but it was too late, Michael had jammed his sword into her armpit, only for his blade to be stopped by the bone-mail she wore beneath her shell.

  Amy was unable to suppress a laugh as she trapped Michael's sword beneath the weight of her arm, and prepared to bring the match to a close by cracking him gently across the head.

  "Stop!" Gideon's voice echoed through the night. "Oh dear, Michael, surely you could have devised a less risky strategy?"

  "Amy is so well protected that I could not defeat her any more swiftly," Michael said. "I had to get her to expose herself."

  "Not by acting the rock while she pounds upon you," Gideon said in an aggrieved voice. "You're faster than she is, use your mobility against her; have I taught you nothing?"

  "It was just a sparring match," Amy said.

  "If something is worth doing it is worth doing properly," Gideon said. "And as it happens, this is worth doing. Michael, you need to learn how to fight an armoured opponent, and Ameliora, you need to learn how to fight more nimble foes. Now, stand away and take up your guard."

  "We aren't going to be getting much sleep tonight, are we?" Amy said.

  Gideon chuckled dryly as he began to instruct them.

  Jason was wakened the next morning by the sounds of fighting, to see Amy and Michael hard at it under Gideon's direction. Michael was darting nimbly in all directions, constantly getting behind Amy, but Amy herself seemed to be playing tortoise quite successfully inside her armour, relying on it to stop any assaults getting through while she waited for Michael to tire. Mind you, both of them looked rather fatigued from where Jason stood. Sweat was pouring down Michael's face, and he could hear Amy's wheezing from here.

  "They were like this when I woke up," Tullia said. "It has been going on all night, I think."

  "They woke me up very early," Wyrrin said, though he did not sound too unhappy about it. "I've been watching them. It is an entertaining display."

  "I'll have to take your word for that," Jason said. "So, they've been fighting all night? I wonder that they are still standing, not to mention able to march today," Jason said.

  "A night's missed sleep will not present too great a difficultly, though perhaps a period of rest would not be unwise at this stage," Gideon said. "Stop now, both of you, you've done extremely well. Michael, we'll forgo our usual training this morning in favour of you getting some rest."

  Michael shook his head. "I could go on like this all day Gideon, truly, in faith."

  "I couldn't," Amy said, leaning on the hilt of her sword and taking deep, gasping breaths.

  "I've no doubt you would continue if I asked it, Michael, but we'll save that for when it becomes necessary," Gideon said. "Rest now."

  "I don't need telling twice," Amy said, flopping onto the ground and curling up. Within a few moments she had started to snore.

  Michael sat down. "I still need to make breakfast."

  "I'll do that," Gideon said. "It may not be up to your standards, but it will serve."

  Tullia said, "It is good to see that you have reconciled with Amy."

  Michael smiled. "Everything is settled now."

  "Good," Tullia said. "I am glad, truly."

  While Gideon started to prepare the food, Jason got up and walked a few feet away from the others, with his staff in one hand and his wand in the other. He was conscious of the eyes of Michael and Gideon following him as he did so, though Tullia and Wyrrin were not so curious. He preferred doing this while they were occupied with their swordplay, but he needed practice in his own discipline as much as they did in theirs and so there was no help for it. Today, he must do this in the sight of all.

  He began with his wand, holding it before him at face level, gripped between forefinger and thumb, pointing slightly upwards.

  "Stratos, Lord of Lightning, bring forth thy light," Jason incanted. As he spoke, some of the c
haracters carved into his wand began to glow with an orange light, and the tip of his wand lit up. In the glare of the sun it seemed a small, pathetic glow, but in darkness it was a most welcome companion.

  "Let it be ended," Jason said, and the light was extinguished.

  For his next spell, Jason looked around for a suitable target, finding a large rock about six feet from him. He pointed his wand at it. "Arus, God of Fire, spark your wrath!"

  There was a bang from the tip of Jason's wand, and the stone leapt upwards into the air before falling down to earth with a heavy thump. The ground on which it had sat was smoking slightly. Jason took a deep, heavy breath before proceeding with the last of his wand spells.

  "Thanates, Mistress of the Air, let your cudgel fall," Jason declared, and the stone was hurled a dozen feet backwards away from him as the letters on Jason's wand flared for a moment, then went out.

  Jason lowered his wand. They were the first three spells he had learnt, carved upon the first instrument of sorcery he had made for himself. Now it was time to move on to the more taxing spells he had learnt upon his second conduit.

  Jason put his wand back in his belt, and gripped his shepherd's staff tightly with both hands. Quietly, he prayed not to embarrass himself with failure.

  "Tullia," he said. "Would you come here? It is time."

  Tullia came, her lips pursed with disapproval. He knew that she disliked what he was about to ask her to do, but it was the only way to test the efficacy of the shield, and if she would play his servant then surely she should get used to following his orders. She squared up against him, at about ten yards distance.

  "You know what to do," Jason said, raising his staff so that the tip was pointed at her. "Thanates, Mistress of the Air, and Lightning Lord Stratos, ward me with thy shield."

  As he spoke, Tullia raised her hand and lightning shot from her fingers, spinning and snapping towards him like angry dogs, before striking the shield that had sprung up before Jason. For a few moments they writhed and scratched at the shield, hunting for a way through but finding none, before Tullia let go her magic and Jason ended the spell.

  "I wish there was another way to test your powers, Your Highness," Tullia said. "If I hurt you I could not abide it."

  Jason did not answer, turning away to point his staff upwards into the sky, "Stratos, Lord of Lightning; Thanates, Mistress of the Air, combine your strength and empower me to strike: thirteen arrows of light!"

  The words upon his staff burned bright as thirteen magical white arrows shot from the tip and into the air, exploding harmlessly above his head in a shower of sparks and crackles.

  Gideon clapped mildly as Jason walked back to the campfire, where breakfast was almost ready, "An impressive display."

  "I'll say, Your Highness," Michael said, his excitement robbing him of his most portentous and affected mannerisms. "That was marvellous. I mean..." he coughed in embarrassment. "Your Highness, that display was of a nature both pleasing and heart-lifting."

  Jason laughed. "I am still only a novice, in the elder days any half trained sorcerer could perform feats ten times as great. I was very fortunate that none of my spells misfired this morning, the dreams of the gods must be acute today," Jason wished that he could some way to get them to stop calling him Your Highness. He liked Michael, in his rather old fashioned way, and knew that it was genuine respect and not sycophancy that prompted his behaviour, but that did not make it much better. If only these people could be persuaded to see him as an equal, could be persuaded to see all men as equals. But he feared it was beyond his talents to drag these men of the past into a future that did not yet exist save in the hearts of a few visionaries.

  Gideon handed out the breakfast; Jason bit into a burnt kipper, and immediately regretted that Michael was not cooking this morning. Still, he needed to regain his strength. Sorcery was powered by a fusion of bodily strength and willpower, should either of them give out his powers would be useless.

  They let Amy sleep a little longer while they ate, then woke her up and fed her before continuing on their way. Michael led the way with Amy following close behind. Jason was behind her, with Tullia trailing in his footsteps and Wyrrin coming after her. Gideon now took station at the rear of their small column, though his gaze seemed to be everywhere, front, flank and rear.

  Jason did not find Deucalia province much different than Corona. It was just as hot here, the sun was just as bright, both were annoyingly humid in a way that made him miss the airy summers of Eternal Pantheia. It was only Elyn, supposedly the real heat did not start until the following month of Dalry, and yet Jason felt as though it was the height of summer already. He was surprised that Michael looked so comfortable in his woollen tunic, and as for Amy he was amazed she had not boiled inside that armour, when he himself was suffering enough in fine linens.

  Yet, the weather aside, he was afraid Deucalia would prove a less pleasant place than Corona had been. The Coronim people had at least been welcoming and hospitable, until the Crimson Rose had caught them of course, and any time his sorcery had been discovered the discovery had prompted no outcry, only some people asking him for magical favours which he had done his best to grant. But here, where the Novar Church held sway, he was prepared for a frostier welcome. If any Novarian witchhunters encountered them, Jason did not like to consider the consequences.

  Actually, when he did consider them he found the consequences were likely to be a few dead witchhunters, but he did not wish to call the wrath of the church down upon the heads of Tullia, Michael or Amy. He would not hesitate to call them his friends, for they had earned nothing less. Even the fire drake seemed affable, though Jason did not know him well. It was only Gideon, the cold eyed Butcher of Oretar, who still commanded his trepidation. There was something off about the man, something hidden that he did not wish to be revealed.

  Apart from anything else, there was the business with his brother's murder and Gideon's exile. Gideon said that he had been framed by Lord Quirian, but Jason had never heard anything to suggest such a plot. One might say that it wouldn't be much of a job if people did not believe Gideon's guilt, but Gideon had not offered one shred of evidence to support his statement, nor did he appear willing to do so. It was, to say the least, suspicious, and Jason felt uneasy that Michael and Amy seemed prepared to take his innocence on faith.

  If he is false, we will protect them, Tullia and I. It was the least that they could do.

  "I've been wondering about something," Amy said, interrupting Jason's thoughts. "Why is all the land so bare?"

  "What do you mean, our Amy?" Michael said.

  "You know, it's empty," Amy said. "Under the sea there's always something going on: fish, crabs, sharks, squid, whales, always something swimming by. It's not always something you want swimming by, but it's there even if you have to chase it off. But here, there's just people and a few birds. No animals that don't live on a farm, nothing dangerous or wild. It's something I never noticed when I was a kid but, where is everything?"

  "I have noticed it as well," Wyrrin said. "When I first left Arko I spent several days wandering through a wood, and I encountered all manner of beasts in the forests, and upon the moors before I was caught and chained. Compared with the west, this land is very devoid of such things. Where have they all gone?"

  "Hunted down and killed," Jason said. "Victims of man's insatiable greed and desire for domination."

  "Testament to the glories of the Empire," Gideon corrected him.

  Jason turned to look at him, eyebrow raised. "So one of the great triumphs of the Imperial Army was over wild goats and bears?"

  "Flippancy is not necessary, Jason," Gideon said. "Such creatures as you mean, Ameliora, disappeared because there was not room for them. There was not room for them because the prosperity brought about by the Empire did not allow it. We have tamed the land - the very earth itself forced to kneel before the purple throne - and turned it to our purposes: the betterment of mankind and the advancement of the glo
ries of the state. We churn over every field with ploughs to feed our growing nation and our armies, we chisel stone at every quarry, we mine every seam of metals base or precious. Every inch of our dominion strains to do its part in service of the throne and Empire. Would that every citizen of the state were so dedicated and industrious."

  "What kind of nation would be produced by every citizen serving the so called greater good of an Empire enlightened only by comparison with the barbarians?" Jason said. "A nation of no art, no beauty, no music; no thought, no culture, no philosophy, no enlightenment. A nation dark and grey, filled with grim and grey folk of no self will, going about their empty lives in servitude and then dying. Is it not telling that, even in the Empire as it stands, we have produced no artistic works capable of matching the achievements in beauty of the Aurelian Era, and intellectually we cannot hold a candle to the pre-conquest Tyronians."

  "Your analysis is flawed because it assumes that art, music, literature must be individualist endeavours, rather than works that can be put to the service of the nation as a whole. I am not opposed to any of those things, provided that they reflect some glory upon the Empire and do not mock or deride the nation that has raised and sheltered them all their lives," Gideon said. "And as for thought, the philosophies of which you speak brought the Tyronians to ruin and defeat. I think we have too much philosophy in the Empire as it is, the only philosophy which we require was that given voice by Aegea, which we have abandoned but must urgently reclaim."

  "I think we retain rather too much of it already," Jason said.

  "What would you craft in place, Your Highness, had you the governance o'er the commonwealth?" Michael asked.

  Jason tried not to cringe at someone using o'er in actual speech, and instead concentrated on his answer. When he had collected his thoughts upon the matter - he had never been asked the question so direct before - then he began. "If I were placed at the head of the commonwealth, as you say, then I would abolish such things as nations altogether, and command all men to go their own way, masters of their own destiny.