by Nelson, J P
I swung from ropes tied to the ceiling, balanced myself on bars he bolted between door posts, and sometimes he would make me walk up and down steps on my hands instead of my feet. Once, while he had me walking on my hands, he turned two puppies loose for me to play with, while upside down.
As I thought back on all of these things, I continued to massage my hand where Hoscoe had so nonchalantly smacked it. He casually circled around, waiting for me to engage another round. I stared at his obtrusive coffee mug with an ill feeling.
Only a few moments ago I had employed a recently developed skill and had held that very mug in my hand. Through intent focus, I had caused his lukewarm coffee to heat up to a healthy steaming hot. Against the wall now leaned a stick I had held, and slowly caused to warp. And in both of our quarters were some potted plants I had successfully caused to sprout.
Yes, a lot had gone on in the last two years. But I still had yet to score a strike on Hoscoe.
Focusing on my hand, I healed it quickly. ‘This time,’ I thought.
With a flourish of my own weapon I said, “En Guard, Hoscoe.”
Slash-parry-parry-counter-repost-slash-thrust-spin-hook-over-hand-thrust-drawback-feint-backslash-Whack! My sword went flying through the air and he touched me on top of the head with the flat of his blade.
Damn!
And him standing there sipping that mug of coffee …
Chapter 33
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HOSCOE ENCOURAGED ME to be friends with Ander and his buddies.
“He invited you to have a mug of ale, did he not?”
“Yes, he did. But I …”
“But what?” Hoscoe looked at me and chuckled, “Just meet with him and have a mug. He is a talkative young man. Just ask him casual questions and let him speak. Then follow through with another question about something he just mentioned. He will think of you as a superb conversationalist.”
I stared at Hoscoe incredulously. “Really? What kind of questions?”
“Anything which may arouse your curiosity. Let it flow, Mehio. You will be fine.”
Slapping me on the back he added, “You spent practically all your childhood with only your mother. On the road crew you confined yourself in a friendship with Jared, sometimes with Sym. Now it is you and I, but you needs must broaden your circle of friends.” He saw my expression and chuckled, “It is always good to have your inner circle of two or three most trusted mates, but you must learn to be relaxed with other people. You do not have to divulge your innermost thoughts, but allow yourself some time to enjoy … the company of another person, or persons even.
“You may find yourself in a place among others, where all faces are strangers, and you may find you wish you could talk just for the sake of having unimportant conversation. You will find that communication is a skill, and you have the tools to develop a great skill … if you so choose.”
I could already remember being in just such a place; places, actually.
“Go do it, Wolf,” he said, “go have a drink, you may find you enjoy it.”
I just looked at him.
A couple of days later, Ander came up to me after classes and asked, “The fellows and me are headed to Baldwin’s Pub after chow tonight. Why don’t you come down for a while?”
Over the months he had asked me a few times already, but each time I found a reason not to. This time I agreed.
His face lit up and he said, “Great! I’ll tell the fellows. You’ll have fun, give you a chance to take a load off and relax a bit. See you after while.”
Walking to Baldwin’s that evening, I felt very awkward. I had never been in a pub before and I felt really self-conscious. The handling of money was a new idea for me, as well, and Hoscoe had taken some time to coach me with it. The coins he had taken from Evan and Jinx he gave to me, so I had something of a stash. Actually, by local standards I was loaded, for a soldier boy.
When I entered the establishment, I heard someone laughing. Looking quickly from one side to the other, I wondered if it was me they were laughing at. To this day, I have to remind myself to relax every time I hear laughter. It goes back to my days on the plantation, when I was the butt of nearly every joke. My early days on the road crew were only a little better.
The place wasn’t well lit and smelled mostly of dark ale, cactus liquor, crispy fried potatoes and roasted meat on a stick. Mix in body odor and bad breath and there, you have it.
Off to one end, some soldiers were watching two of their group smack a little ball back and forth on a wooden table with small, wooden paddles … chik-a-chik-a-chik-a-chik … listening to the sound and watching the two players move the ball with such smooth, yet fast movements, was almost mesmerizing.
Entranced with the game of pong for a few moments, suddenly I felt as if I were watching the game in slow motion. I could see, or was it sense, exactly where the ball would go at the exact moment it was smacked. Somehow I knew that, if I so chose to do so, I could have reached out and grabbed the ball in mid trajectory. Interesting
Someone was playing a guitar with two strings just flat enough to make my ears curl. Beside him, someone else was trying to sing.
A flash of memory arose and I saw Roveir playing music with my momma. The memory held until I shook it from my head. I had been doing well at ignoring such memories. My thoughts were running toward turning around and walking out, when off to the side I heard Ander’s voice, “Hey Wolf? Over here!”
He was seated with his three constant chums over against the wall around a table. I walked over and a server came by, asked what I wanted and I asked for a mug of ale. It was that simple.
Ander and chums joked with each other about the day’s activities, girls they had known or were seeing, where the patrols were going and what about those cognobins? I didn’t know much what to say, so I kept quiet for the most part.
Someone would ask me a question like where was I from, how did I like being an apprentice to Hoscoe and things like that. I would answer, but didn’t know what else to say and my brain fogged up, not remembering the easy questions Hoscoe had suggested.
I learned this was a soldier’s pub, and the ladies weren’t allowed in here in order to help keep the male hormones down. Soldiers would come in here to unwind, relive a good day or try to put behind something bad. Fights were rare, due in no small part to old man Baldwin, a massive man standing an easy six feet six and the owner of the pub. He was well known for his combat skill and served as his own bouncer.
The story was he once broke up a fight between eight soldiers. Baldwin physically threw each of them out of his place, one of who was two hundred and fifty pounds and powerful. He had come through the old battles to form the kingdom and the tales of his combat acumen were still being told. Nobody wanted a problem with Baldwin.
Ander told me, “He keeps the playing field neutral. His Highness supports him, too. This is the only place in the city where everyone is equal.” He laughed, “The officers and royalty don’t come in here.”
“Except for Aldivert,” piped in Izner, a heavily freckled smiling face of a teenager. He had joined swordsmanship classes maybe a year ago, and was a talented slinger who had jumped to top ten in the entire program. He was one of the youngest in the military and had opted to join, as opposed to apprenticing out to be a miller when his pap died.
“Yeah,” added Merle, “he’s an asshole. Thinks he’s some tough nut.” Merle was considered one of the strongest fellows in the barracks, maybe the strongest, but a really nice person.
Ander once saw him grab the ends of harness from two different horses facing opposite directions. Merle had taken a bet he could hold those horses together and hook the chains while they pulled against him. He won two and a quarter marks on that bet. I didn’t want Merle mad at me.
“Who’s Aldivert?” I asked.
“His Highness’s nephew,” answered Ander. Then he added, “You probably haven’t seen him yet. He’s mid-twenties, has a captain’s rank, bu
t acts like he’s in line for the throne.”
“Like that’s ever going to happen,” that was Dudley. Short, hairy, always seeming to have a problem, but a dead shot with the crossbow and would face a dragon armed with only a bucket of water.
Ander slyly winked and said, “Whoever gets Tancine, gets the kingdom. I guarantee it.”
“Ooooooooo …” chimed in Izner and Merle.
“And, who is Tancine?” I asked.
“That shit with the goddess really messed you up, man!” exclaimed Dudley.
Ander suddenly pointed a finger at Dudley and said, “Hey …”
Izner said, “Common, Dud …”
“Yeah,” said Merle, “keep it cool, man.”
It took me only a moment to read between the lines. Ander had made it a point for no one to touch on the Meidra subject with me. I really liked Ander; he had a moral code about him. In fact, I found myself liking all these fellows.
Dudley held up his hands and said, “Hey, I just mean that everyone knows she’s the king’s daughter,” His eyes got exaggeratingly wide, “his only daughter, I might add.” He squirmed in his seat and grabbed his mug handle, “Shizet.”
“Besides,” interjected Izner, who suddenly dropped his voice real low, “I hear she might be lifting her skirts for that guffous from Malone. What’s his name? Patriohr.”
“PIG piss!” Dudley exclaimed while slapping his beefy, empty hand on the table.
“Sssssshhh!” Izner said, as he held his hand up in warning to Dudley, looking around the room in newfound paranoia.
“Hey, Ize,” Ander said, “careful what you say, man. That could get you in trouble,” then he settled back and added with a mischievous grin, “besides, Dud has her earmarked for his self.”
Dudley gave Ander an evil eye and started to challenge, “Damn, you, I’ll …”
“But what if,” Merle started as he shrugged his shoulders, keeping his voice low, “what if the king had, you know, had another kid out there somewhere.”
Izner looked around, “Yeah?! Hey, he’s the king. Anyone hear of his queen? Ain’t got one. Everyone knows that.” He looked around again and made sure his voice was low, “I heard he has a mistress in every village. He just moved Tancine up from some small place in the south, what, four years ago. Right when the cognobins started showing up.”
Dudley kicked back his mug, belched really long and loud, signaled for another ale, almost blurted out something when he made an exaggerated effort to keep his voice low, then leaned over the table and said, “If Aldivert thought there was a, an heir out there, he’d a’done spit the shit through ‘im with his polished bull shticker.”
Ander gazed at his friend and finally said calmly, “Dud, are you getting drunk?” With a soft chuckle he added, “You’re gonna give Wolf a bad first impression.”
Dudley glanced at me with a dour look, then winced his face up and gave me a wide, exaggerated grin. I couldn’t help but laugh. Dudley belched again, looked at me and gave a double raise of his eyebrows as the server brought him a fresh tankard of ale.
They made some more idle talk and I looked around the room. It was such a small place for so many people. Over on one wall there were several round targets and fellows were throwing darts. I winced at the guitarist as he played that flat, top string again. It got worse, I think, every time he played it.
Ander laughed and I looked around at him.
“What’s wrong, Wolf? You don’t like the brew?”
I hesitated a moment and replied with a slow smile, “Actually, no. I don’t.”
“Well, what do you drink up in the mountains where you come from?” asked Izner.
I shrugged, “Water, tea, sometimes some wine. I’ve had mead a time or two. And I’ve had coffee.”
“Coffee, I heard about that. It’s ground up goat pellets, ain’t it? Wanna try somethin’ to put hair on your chest?” Asked Dudley.
“Not tonight,” interjected Merle. Dudley gave Merle an almost hurt look. Then Merle looked at me, “If you want to try cactus liquor, it’s best to do it before drinking two mugs of ale. You can get really sick, especially if you’re not used to it. Liquor before beer, never fear. Beer before liquor, never sicker.”
“Beer?” I asked, “What’s that?”
Merle and Ander looked at each other with a mutual expression that asked of each other, how to explain.
Dudley piped in, “Tuh keep it shimple.” He opened his hands outward, “Beer is weak ale. It’s the stuff you get in Malone to what’s shapossed to be good drinkin’ …”
Dudley shrugged his shoulders at the others and wrinkled his brow. Then looked at me with a blank expression, emptied his mug and ordered another.
Anyway, that’s how I got to know Ander and his buddies.
Over the next couple of years we hung around pretty regular. Every now and again we practiced swords together, threw darts and played pong. And I found I liked tequila, what they called cactus liquor. I also learned I had a high tolerance to alcohol.
The one time I felt a buzzing, I found I could heal myself of the effects. What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt, and it only took twice for one or other of them to try drinking me under the table.
They also taught me this game called pigskin. You had this oblong shaped ball made from tanned pigskins, and by throwing it to a teammate or running with it in your arms, you tried to make it to the other end of a pasture field while the members of the other team tried to tackle you to the ground.
I didn’t need to be told that I didn’t want Merle tackling me. So I learned to throw it pretty good. It turned out this was one of two sports everyone in the barracks loved to play. No one could explain to me why my position was called quarterback, only that it had been called that forever. Whatever, I got to throw the ball a lot and I liked that. There was this man named Becket who could catch most anything I could throw, all we had to do was find a way for me to get him in the clear.
The other big game was something called football. You had this leather, round ball, and you kicked it all over this field to make goal in one of two special nets. You couldn’t touch the ball with your hands, but you could hit it with your head. Izner and Dudley made a really good team, and watching Dud scoot his stocky, short body around so quickly was something to see.
For either game, Ander usually was a favorite choice for team captain, simply because he could lay out a great plan which worked more often than not.
Popularity didn’t exactly come knocking at my door and I was still pretty much a loner. But I had become accepted, just another one of the fellows in the barracks. I wasn’t trying to hide, but I had taken to wearing a headband which usually covered the tops of my ears. This was something not uncommon, and both Dudley and Ander wore the same kind of thing. So, unless you asked or had seen them, you wouldn’t know I had points on my ears.
Something I was always careful of, however, I never shared with anyone my special abilities. As far as anyone knew, I was an orphan from the eastern Ahnagohr Mountains who had elf-blood. I had gotten to know Hoscoe and he agree to teach me swordsmanship. That was it.
Ultimately it was Ander who became my best friend, but Izner is the one I related to the most. Somehow I felt like we were the same age, him being sixteen at the time, and hanging around him brought out a certain mischievousness I never realized I had. From Izner I learned the art of the practical joke and we became pretty good as a prankster team.
I’m afraid to say some of the things we did. We were never caught, although we came close a time or two. And even though he never said, I am sure Hoscoe knew.
Eventually I saw Aldivert, and he was definitely narcissistic. He stopped by to watch Hoscoe teach a few times, then he would throw his nose up and walk on. He was taller than the average human and leanly built. They said he was good with a sword, but not nearly as good as he thought he was. His assignments were always involving the mines, so he was rarely around the city.
Dudley had served with him.
In fact, Dudley had been a soldier longer than the rest of us chums. He had made sergeant twice, but had been busted back down both times by Aldivert. Dudley’s view about Aldivert was simple, “He’s a regular pig banger, hasn’t met nobody he don’t think he’s better than, but he’s smart. And he’s got balls. Only people he backs down for are the commander and His Highness.
“He’s got him a knack for moving quiet and trackin’, too. Last year there were two prisoners escaped from the mine we were at. The captain hunted them down himself. Trailed ‘em across rock and sand, then brought ‘em back barefoot walking behind his horse.”
It was something to remember. Hoscoe taught me that an arrogant person, who also had great skill, was a person to watch carefully.
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Every so often, Ander and the fellows would get called into riding a patrol. Five times in the last two years, Hoscoe had me go along. It would be good learning for me, he said.
“These are perimeter scouting patrols, Wolf, you will not be gone longer than a few days. All I want for you to do is keep your eyes open, and observe everything you can. Observe the heavens, the ground, what seems to fit and what does not. Remember, if you master your awareness of what is natural, then what is unnatural will become obvious.
“Keep as much watch on the troops you are riding with as anything else, and watch how the captain acts and reacts to everything. When you return,” Hoscoe instructed, “I will quiz you on your perceptions.”
So far, when I had gone out we saw no sign of any enemy, let alone the cognobins.
“It does not mean they are not there, however,” Hoscoe warned, “when in doubt, always, always assume they are out there. It is better to be a little paranoid and live, then take safety for granted and be slain.”
Captain Shophut led many of the perimeter patrols, and he had been in charge of the ones I joined. He was a bald headed, seasoned warrior somewhere in his thirties. He was a no nonsense man who knew what he was about, and was well liked by the men.