by Power, P. S.
The Young Ancients: Timon Book Three
Kingdom
of
Stars
P.S. Power
Orange Cat Publishing
Chapter one
"Look out."
The half bored sounding words didn't really capture the pain that followed in its wake, both delivered by the tall dark skinned woman that held the wooden practice sword. At least Timon didn't think so.
The blond wood struck him on the shoulder, the giantess in front of him pulling her strike, it seemed, so that it didn't break anything. Instead it just drove him to his knees in the dusty courtyard. Weapons square, Tim recalled, trying to stand back up, only to have Petra Ward, his friend, and at the moment Instructor, hit him again.
"No, roll out of the way. That, or stand up faster than that. It isn't enough to just get back up expecting your adversary to be kind and gentle, you have to protect yourself. At all times." As if to illustrate the point for the rest of the new students watching her, she did it again, beating him about the upper arms. Several times.
It was less than comfortable.
Oh, Timon understood what she was doing, and it wasn't exactly a surprise really. She'd flat out told him to expect beatings on a quasi regular basis for the first few months. Even ones worse than this, with actual blood spurting and broken bones. He'd just thought that she'd wait a bit, until say, the second lesson? This was the first day, nearly the very first thing she was doing, and the other kids all looked suddenly horrified for some reason.
Probably because the large and very skilled woman was beating up the small and rather good looking new boy that seemed to be about ten to most of them. He was twelve, but he got that some of them wouldn't understand that yet. He was still the youngest person there by nearly two years, and short by their standards. Most of them, all dressed in brown of one shade or another since that's what students wore at the Printer school, were older than fourteen. Tall too. Since they were actually all noblemen and women, or at least seemed to be. Being a giant didn't mean you had a title.
Not that Tim wasn't one of them. In fact he was slightly more highly placed than most of them, which was also the point, he guessed, as the wooden blade clipped him in the chin, cutting his face. Well, she had promised blood, hadn't she? It dripped onto the ground in a thin stream. Luckily it slowed a lot after he wiped at it once with the back of his left hand.
"Now..." She tried to do it again, but he laughed, even if he didn't really feel like it and made himself roll out of the way, fast, keeping hold of his own blade as he did it. The move roughly worked, even though it wasn't smooth enough. That was because of his innate speed, rather than skill, he knew. When it came to weapons work, as least non-magical ones, he didn't really have any ability yet. It was part of what he was there to learn, that being the nature of fighting courses.
Petra grinned at him, taking his seemingly happy smile as being real, and pressed her own attack. It was a mistake. On his part. In the future Tim decided on a program of stern glances and frowning while doing things like this. He was pretty much just being slapped around even as he tried to do what she told him. Which was mainly to keep his own weapon up, and try to fight back. It was so pitiful he could almost swear a few of the others were hiding tears. It might have been laughter too, since it was hard to tell. Half the larger ones seemed almost constipated though, in expression.
Finally, after ten minutes of this treatment, with him being out of breath and in constant pain, she relented, just a little. On her part the good looking woman with her smooth skin and toned body didn't even seem out of sorts at all. It was annoying, but she was just in better condition than he was.
"Good. Now, I don't want anyone getting the wrong idea here, not all the training sessions will be this light. It's Tim's first day though, so we can take it easy on him. Karl, you're up next. Ready?"
She was speaking to a large man that was technically an adult by anyone's way of thinking. He was twenty, just a few years younger than their instructor, and vast. Petra was big, compared to Timon, standing at over six-six. Karl was nearly two heads taller than that, and half again wider than the woman. He wasn't bad with a blade either, it turned out, once they started.
Not as good as she was, Timon realized almost instantly, but that was why Petra was in charge. She was excellent at what she did, and had trained with the best for years.
Timon, having at least some sense left, managed to dance back before they got going and stood next to a likely looking girl that watched the two in the middle of the dirt square raptly. She was tall and not all that cute, but had a good smile. Luckily she wasn't all that tall, being only about six feet even. It made him feel safer. She was young and would end up being bigger than that, no doubt, but he was more than a bit afraid of women that were too tall. Petra was hard to be around and she was his personal friend. One that beat him on the first day of school as an example to everyone else, but still, his pal.
They had a history.
Not the kind that anyone there would likely think either. These were nobles, so if Timon had mentioned that he and the instructor had traveled together for half a year, off and on, and weren't related directly, almost all of them would just assume that they'd been having sex that whole time. It wasn't true, but that would be the assumption. It was a cultural thing, and even if Tim was too young to have sex legally, most of their caste wouldn't care, as long as it was consensual. Or even if it wasn't, depending on where they were from.
"Ohhh... Karl is about to have his butt handed to him, isn't he? It was hard to tell, when she was working against you, because..." The girl looked at him and went wide eyed, since it was clear what she was getting at, and he'd been introduced with both his titles, which meant he was sort of a big deal that way. Countier First, Baker. Countier Sixth Lairdgren. Both of those things were new, since his older brother Teral had given up his claim to a title at all. Not that it mattered really, since both of the people he'd have to replace were immortal, he wasn't getting either job.
Taler, which was Teral's family name, wasn't going to either, so he'd decided to just run his bakery, and call it good. It wasn't done in bitterness, but out of respect for the people he served, being that he worked in the country and having a title would make the farmers, village folk and the like, rather uneasy.
Tim smiled up at the girl and nodded a bit. It wasn't that neck straining at least.
"Instructor Petra wasn't joking about this being my first lesson. Nearly so at least. It makes a difference." He let it go at that. The girl had been trying to say that he wasn't very good, and it was true. Some nobles would have a problem with that kind of thing, and might make her suffer for saying it, but he wasn't one of them. If he wanted her to be impressed with his martial prowess, he'd get some first.
"Um, yeah." She seemed a bit more bashful now, but kept speaking, her eyes going back to the sword work. "Karl's good though. He's been teaching us, since we didn't have a proper Instructor for this section yet."
They watched for a while the others doing much the same, except for a clutch of tall kids across the way, who actually seemed to get bored by it. They wandered off to the side and started to pull out cards, and some small games. The girl next to him noticed it, and he followed her gaze.
"Not the brightest, are they?" Timon spoke softly and the girl gave a little head shake.
"Not at all. Annoyingly dull really, but you didn't hear it from me. They're..." She froze as one of the people, a girl, looked across the square at her and sneered a bit. It didn't help her looks at all, even though she was tolerably pretty compared to the lady nex
t to him. "All of them are high noble, and think that they shouldn't have to do any actual work. So far they really haven't had to. I don't know what Instructor Petra will do about them. Half of us here are on a scholarship, and..." She looked embarrassed and then shrugged. "I'm not noble, you know?"
Timon shrugged back and smiled, which made his face hurt.
"And I am. Do you know what that means? Here and now, I mean?" He managed not to sound sly, but was watching Petra very closely, and noticed that her lips had gone from her normal broad fighting grin to a tight and somewhat angry expression and her attention was straying a bit toward the group of four kids that were sitting on the stones off to the side, dealing out playing cards.
The girl stiffened a bit and shook her head anyway, but made herself speak to the potentially entitled little brat next to her.
"No...Sir."
Timon smiled. "Call me Tim. What it means is that, in about two minutes, you're probably going to be taking a turn swatting me with a practice blade, while Karl and the larger students each work with one of those lot over there, I bet. Luckily I have a healing amulet." He meant for himself, but the girl went wide eyed and glanced at the group on the ground.
"Wait, you do? Those are really hard to get hold of, aren't they? Who did you have to suck off to get that?" Then, because while she was a scholarship kid, and not a moron, the girl blushed and bit her lips. It wasn't a polite thing to say, especially since it might just be true. It was the noble way. You either bought things with coin, or sold your behind for favors. No one talked about it much, but the girl was clearly smart. She wouldn't have made it past the testing if she hadn't been. There was fierce competition to get a scholarship here at the new school.
He also needed a name for her, other than girl.
"Sorry, I seem to have forgotten your name?" He'd never known it, but she nodded, as if he were just being polite and ignoring what she'd just implied.
"Mindy. Mindy Damic. I, um, no title or anything."
Timon winked at her.
"Right, most people don't bother with them I hear. Anyway, I didn't have to suck off anyone to get my copy, since I made it myself. I'm a builder." That got her attention, and she seemed to think he was lying for some reason. At least he took her slightly narrowed gaze to mean that. After a bit she swallowed and shook her head though.
"Yeah, I'd heard that. The Wizard Tor's younger brother? You made the good Fast Carriages, right? Those are incredible." She stopped talking, since Petra had clearly heard them, her face going back to its normal happy expression, mainly. It didn't track to her eyes however, which was a sign of danger.
"Timon, you and..."
The large dark hand waved at the girl next to him, so he provided the name for her. It was her first day too, after all.
"Mindy."
"You and Mindy work together. Mindy, don't hold back too much. Karl, if you and your top students could help me?" She was suddenly very polite about the whole thing and Karl blinked, but didn't ask what she meant about his top students.
That got a scene to start that was pretty much the one that Tim had thought was going to happen. It almost had to. Karl and the others were coaxed into beating the lazy kids a bit. Not as much as Timon had been already, but it was enough that Mindy had to fight a smile about it as they worked.
"Good call. Did you use magic?" The girl wasn't anywhere near as good as Petra was, but she still managed to hit him five times out of six. Her movements were rough and a bit soft, though he wasn't going to complain about that, since it meant less bruising for him.
"Nope. She heard us talking, I think." The truth was both that he was certain she had, and also would have done it even if she hadn't. Petra had to take control, it being her first day. Hence his being beaten right off like that. She had to show she was hard. Being too nice right off the top would lead to no one taking her seriously.
"Ah." Then they just worked for a while, the not so pretty blonde girl turning a bit ruddy as they struggled to trade blows. It wasn't a fair fight at all, but she stopped holding back as much after a few minutes, which meant that there was a nearly constant smacking sound coming from him. Well, his body at least, if not his blade, which was just flailing around uselessly.
It was hard to hear over the moaning, crying and threats to quit, which came from the center of the square. The girl that had given Mindy a hard look earlier was the one that particularly didn't seem to want to be there anymore. She was also, it seemed, decently well placed, socially. He could tell, because she started yelling about it. It was sort of awkward to listen to. Embarrassing.
"You can't do this to me! I'm a Conserina, you bitch! I don't care if you're an Instructor here, I'll have your job for this! Countess Printer won't put up with her good students being bullied!"
It was all affectation, but Timon slapped a hand over his mouth and jumped back, so that Mindy wouldn't hit him. She didn't even try, since she was obviously a kind and sweet girl, even if she was holding a wooden sword at the moment. The act got about half the people to stare at him, but it took a while for the girl, the Conserina, to turn his way. She stiffened a bit, but didn't scream at him.
Instead she clenched her jaw, and held a hand to the bruise on her right cheek. It had come from a giant of a girl that looked to be about seventeen or so and had to be pretty well placed. Most of the really big people were. She glared at him a bit, her face going hard.
"What?"
There was a bit of a demanding tone to the words, but Timon shook his head, as if reluctant to speak about what he'd just witnessed. After all, he could see what was coming, as Petra walked to the counter that rimmed the practice area and picked up her communications device. It was one of the new ones, that Tor had made, but wasn't the only one in the area. Timon had his near there too, so that it wouldn't be in the way, the stone piece a little uncomfortable for weapons practice, or so he figured.
It was clear that her plan was to call Countess Printer directly, but that was a bad idea. Timon could tell that without even thinking about it. If the little Conserina of Perfection there had to be schooled by the Countess herself, it would make Petra look weak. Like she couldn't handle things on her own. It was the polite thing to do really, rather than to shout the girl down.
Or to stand on her own title, which was just as good.
Again however, if she did it, then his friend would look like she didn't have as much power as she really did. It would send the wrong message.
Timon stared and then shuddered a bit, knowing that he had to help out, because Petra was his friend. It meant making enemies on the first day though, which wasn't the best idea ever. Especially royal ones. It probably couldn't be helped though.
"I can't believe you just said that! In the weapons area too... That... I can't believe it!" He stared with a good amount of disbelief showing in his eyes and everything. Enough that a few of the older kids nodded along, as if they actually understood what he was saying. That meant he was either on to something or they were a group of natural players with skills that transcended the norm by leaps and bounds. He kind of thought they just picked up on his meaning though.
The Conserina didn't.
"What?" She said again, her face a bit perplexed under the anger. "I'm just insisting on my rights!"
"Here? Everyone knows that good Weapons Instructors are immune from such things, as are anyone taking their orders. They have to be in order to train the highest of the nobility. Didn't they tell you that when you started here? I heard it yesterday from Countess Printer myself. It was nearly the first thing she said to me, after hello. In here Instructor Petra can beat us, call us names and make us clean the dirt with a tiny brush on hands and knees and we can't say hey about it. We can't even ask why and demand an answer. I guess Karl was being nice to you all, so far, but I've seen the way they practice at Lairdgren, which is where Instructor Petra trained originally. This isn't that by a long way, yet." He was worried that he was being too subtle, but Karl, big and
brutish looking or not, cleared his throat.
Then he saved the day with a few words.
"I've been meaning to mention that. I'm just a student here, so I didn't want to stand on assumed authority, but Countier Baker is right. I really thought that you'd all pick up on that when the very first thing that Conserina Ward did was bat him about like that. On his first day too. Did you think that was for him being bad, or missing classes? It was to show you lot what was expected of you now. Real weapons work isn't a game or a class to fill the morning after a hard nights drinking. It's what you need to do to survive." He looked away from the girl that had been speaking and at Timon instead. "So, let's you and I work together, little boy."
Timon sighed, getting the idea of what was coming. It was probably a better plan than him trying to challenge Conserina snooty-pants, but not by a lot. He smiled anyway, as Petra stiffened, since she got the idea already too. It wasn't going to be fun.
It really wasn't either. Karl was actually still being gentle with him, compared to what might have happened. He put his weapon aside and left Timon with his own, which might have evened things up a tiny bit, if Tim knew how to use it at all. The blows that came were decently quick, from such a large man, and most of them didn't land, since Timon pulled out the stops, moving a good bit faster than was strictly human. It wasn't enough to save him, if he wasn't going to just flee however. Eventually a giant fist came from his left and took him in the side of the head, knocking him to the ground, leaving him seeing stars.
Timon rolled, since it had been in his earlier lesson, about twenty minutes before. It earned him a happy sounding laugh from the big older student at least.
"Ha! See that? Learning already!" Then he kicked out, just as Tim found his feet, catching him in the middle.
The funny thing there was that, even though the blow was solid, it was totally controlled. It hurt, but didn't blast him back to the ground like it might have. It meant that Karl, while helping to make a point, wasn't being half brutal enough to get through to the lay-abouts like he should.