by I K Spencer
He finished dressing, buckled his sword belt in place, and grabbed his cloak on the way out the door. The rain was now a fine mist and he could see his breath in the fading light. He hurried across the grounds toward the gate. He nodded to the two cadets on guard duty and walked into the street. To the public, the wall-enclosed facility was portrayed as a military school for nobles; however, most people knew its real purpose.
It being a Saturday night, traffic clogged the cobbled street. Carriages clattered by and Anthen searched for a cab to take him to Orneson's residence. He was immediately approached by vendors and streetwalkers, a sizable population of which could be found near the academy. The older cadets had sufficient coin and could not court the city’s supply of maidens so the result was a lively nearby prostitution trade. He visited the brothels occasionally but he found the encounters awkward and embarrassing so he did not visit as often as most of his peers.
Anthen politely declined the offers and waved over an empty cab. He relayed the address to the driver and settled in for the short ride to the city center location, not far from the royal palace. The coach was small but new, a two-seater pulled by a single, tired-looking black mare. Stepping inside, he enjoyed the solitude and the smell of the new leather seat. After a brief ride, the cab stopped on a quiet residential street. He exited the cab and handed some coins up to the driver. It was nearly dark but he could tell that the street's inhabitants were of reasonable means. He approached the door and paused to check the fit of his clothes. He took a deep breath, then knocked.
Chapter 6
After several knocks, a panel in the door slid open and a raspy voice demanded that Anthen state his business. He did so and the panel closed. There was a long pause and he reached up to knock again but then the door opened and Orneson stood before him. He had expected a servant or assistant and was startled.
"Oh, it's you ... Come in my boy. Come in." The guardsman leader seemed equally surprised, though Anthen was exactly on time.
Orneson held out his hand and Anthen shook it, instantly feeling an urge to pull away. The foyer was dark and he could not see the older man clearly. Orneson gestured for Anthen to follow, then turned and shuffled down a dark hallway. Anthen could see that he was stooped and seemed to walk with some difficulty. At the end of the hall they entered yet another dimly lit room, illuminated by a single weak lamp and a small fire.
"You found the place without much trouble?" Orneson asked, his back still to Anthen.
"No trouble at all, sir. The cabby pulled up in front of your door." Anthen heard the clink of glassware and guessed that Orneson was getting them something to drink.
His eyes adjusting to the dim light, Anthen saw the guardsman leader more clearly. Orneson handed him a glass with some amber-colored liquid and beckoned him to be seated. The pair sat in a pair of stuffed chairs facing the small fireplace. Orneson took a long gulp from his glass and looked at Anthen. The cadet took a small sip of the strong Verilian wine and surveyed the room. Aside from the chairs with a small table between, the room contained a desk and a pair of bookshelves. The desk and most of the shelves were littered with books, scrolls and bound sheaves of paper.
"This is a nice house and room," Anthen offered to break the silence.
The guardsman leader waved the compliment away, which Anthen to mean that Orneson was not overly concerned with his comforts. The elder man seemed more relaxed than Anthen remembered but was still constantly fidgeting, his gaze continuously moving about the room.
The darting eyes rested momentarily on Anthen. "Are you looking forward to your apprenticeship?"
Oh yes sir. I would greatly appreciate any advice or useful information you possess on the assignment, the area, or Cidrl." It was one of Anthen's prepared questions and he hoped it would keep the guardsman leader talking for the rest of the evening.
"I have actually never been to Gates but know that it can be a dangerous place. You must always be on your guard." Orneson emphasized the last sentence and for a moment his pale eyes blazed with intensity at the cadet. Anthen had to check his urge to flinch from the fierce stare.
"Apprenticeship is where you learn to apply your vast knowledge and gain some experience before acting alone. Your master is an expert in the application of our craft and there is no better way to pass on his expertise. The apprenticeship is the most challenging and dangerous aspect of becoming a guardsman because you could be exposed to great danger before you are actually prepared to handle it. You must be careful and always obey your master!" The elder man's eyes again blazed with the repeated warning. It looked as though he was in pain for an instant, then his eyes clouded again, resuming their endless dance about the room.
"New graduates often posses no fear and fear makes one cautious. One of the most important things you will learn during your apprenticeship is a healthy respect for the danger in your life as a guardsman."
Anthen doubted that he would have to learn fear from Cidrl, however, hopefully the master guardsman would teach him the specific dangers he should be most concerned about.
The peculiar man continued, "You are very lucky. Your master is an excellent guardsman, probably our most capable man at present! He has worked the Dolonarian border for many years and has things well in-hand. Cidrl has been master for many apprentices over the years."
Orneson seemed very enthusiastic about the man. He continued to recite Cidrl's accomplishments. It was informative; however, Anthen was more interested in what the man was like personally.
"What is Cidrl like?" asked Anthen at the first break.
The question seemed to momentarily confuse the elder man, who frowned and looked at Anthen with a blank stare.
"I mean, what is he like personally?" Anthen clarified.
"Oh. Let me see," the guardsman leader scratched his head and fidgeted even more. "Cidrl is an eloquent man, very charming. He is a large man, nearly six-and-a-half feet tall and powerfully built ..." Orneson paused, seemingly at a loss for more personal information, then abruptly suggested that they go to the dining room.
Anthen followed the elder man back into the hall to the dining room, which was located at the end of the hall. Orneson grabbed a plate from the table and trudged over to a small bench near the fire. On the bench were some crocks, covered baskets, and serving spoons. Orneson began to fill his plate and Anthen, realizing they were to serve themselves, went back to the table for the other plate. The cadet had expected a more formal setting and servants.
Orneson explained, "I must have privacy and servants would be too risky."
Anthen nodded, wondering what prompted the explanation. In the containers he found a thin stew, beans, biscuits, tea, and slices of cake. He filled his plate and mug and joined Orneson at the table. The guardsmen leader had refilled his wineglass and added more to Anthen's glass, although he had consumed little of the potent liquid.
Anthen seated himself and waited for the usual formalities to begin the meal. The guardsman leader was picking at his food and after a time, Anthen took the initiative, raising his glass and toasting his host and the man's hospitality. Orneson smiled and they both drank, however, the guardsmen leader offered no toast in return. The elder man's social ineptness surprised Anthen momentarily but he reminded himself that Orneson's position did not call for social skills; The First was not a public figure.
Anthen ate heartily, accustomed to an earlier evening meal and less appetizing food. Orneson, on the other hand, only picked at the food but drank a considerable amount of wine. Anthen did not succeed in getting the older man to recount the adventures of his own youth in the field. Orneson evaded the cadet's inquiries with nervous laughter and excuses of memory lapses. During the meal, the guardsman leader did not seem to relax, despite the generous dosage of wine. Anthen often caught him glancing at the doorway, as though he expected an imminent interruption.
As soon as Anthen finished eating, Orneson quickly stood and moved away from the table, abruptly ending the meal. Anthen follow
ed suit and trailed the elder man as he hurried down the dim hallway toward the front door. Orneson retrieved Anthen's cloak and indicated that specific travel plans would be conveyed to him shortly. The older man thanked him and before Anthen knew it, he was standing outside the eccentric man's front door. Anthen just barely had time to express his gratitude before the door closed. With a chuckle of amusement and relief that the strange evening was at an end, he turned and faced the quiet, dark street. After only a few steps, however, the cadet's smile abruptly disappeared. He knew someone was following him as surely as if the pursuer had called out a greeting.
It was a power that he did not understand but no longer questioned. Even as a small boy Anthen had noticed that he often knew when someone was approaching before the newcomer came into view. He never thought much of it and for years incorrectly assumed everyone else had the ability too. Eventually, though, he had come to realize that he was not normal and that no one else, so far as he knew, could sense the presence of others before seeing or hearing them as he could. At first he had been afraid and thought something was wrong with him but then he recognized how such a sense could be very useful to a guardsman and in the last few years had even worked to perfect the special gift.
Without breaking stride, the cadet turned right and walked along the dark street. His hands reached and found the security of his sword and handbow. A busy thoroughfare awaited him a few hundred paces ahead and he expected the stalker, whom he guessed to be a thief, to strike before he reached the crowded avenue.
The oil street lamps were sparse and alternated on each side of the road. He walked near one of the smoky lamps and then tensed as he walked into the enveloping darkness beyond. He walked fast but under control, hoping to force his pursuer to have to run to catch up. He strained to hear approaching footfalls but there were none, though he knew the man was keeping pace.
He reached the security of another lamp, then descended into the darkness again. Again he heard no other sound but the echo of his own heels on the cobblestones. At the next lamp he stopped abruptly on the pretext of scraping something from his boot, when in fact he wanted to see if the stranger was matching his stride to hide the sound of his footfalls. The cadet heard none and resumed walking.
He passed under the final lamp on the empty street, then entered the last stretch of darkness remaining before the busy boulevard ahead. Knowing the would-be attacker must reach him before the intersection, he walked faster. He could hear the noises from the street ahead and strained to filter them out in order to pick up any sounds emanating from behind him. He could see people and carriages ahead but it seemed to take forever to reach the intersection. Even with his training, he felt a tremendous urge to run. He glanced over each shoulder but saw nothing. Finally, surprised and confused, the young man reached the intersection unmolested.
Anthen needed to find a place to think away from the busy street. He spotted a tavern just ahead and walked purposefully toward it. The street was crowded with hawkers but they shied away from the grim-faced young man. He entered the tavern and found a spot at the far end of the bar, where he could watch the door. It was an upper-class establishment but not so formal that his plain garb looked out of place. He ordered an ale and put a coin on the polished bar. He quickly surveyed the place and located the only other exit behind the bar, which presumably led to the kitchen. The wall opposite the door featured a large fireplace and the sizable space between was filled with small, covered tables and stuffed, comfortable-looking chairs. The tavern was well lit and full of noisy but well-behaved patrons, most of whom were probably merchants and their families. A lone fiddler seated near the fireplace played a happy tune.
Anthen's thoughts returned to his pursuer. Had he been wrong? His special sense came in the form of the symptoms of anxiety—butterflies, sweaty palms, and quickened breathing and heartbeat. He had learned to recognize the symptoms quickly and to identify the cause. If there was no other identifiable cause of the anxiety, he assumed it to be his special sense reacting to someone nearby focused on him for some reason.
Probably the most important skill he perfected was to control the symptoms so they could be used mainly for his special purpose. The problem was that once someone felt anxiety, the natural tendency was for the feelings to snowball. It took great concentration to insure that the uneasiness came from his sense and not from his own active imagination. It took considerable effort and practice to learn to relax and lessen the feelings of distress.
While standing at the bar, Anthen attempted to relax and rid himself of the anxious feelings. He stared at the mug in front of him and the rest of the world drifted away as he meditated. After a few moments, he emerged and for the moment, was calm. He thought about what had just transpired. He felt certain that there was someone following him but he surmised that the pursuer must have given up. It wasn't unusual for a thief to decide that the victim appeared too risky. Certainly a robber could find easier preys than Anthen out there.
He was suddenly jerked from his musings by the return of the feeling that someone nearby had eyes on him. He looked up from his drink and surveyed the crowd. As his gaze passed one table he glimpsed a bonneted head turn away and he smiled as he waited for its wearer, a young woman of perhaps sixteen, to look again. Sure enough, after a few seconds, the head turned back toward him and then her gaze quickly shifted away as soon as their eyes met. He had experienced this behavior before when in public and guessed it be a mating ritual, a common way for young women to express interest to a potential suitor. He did not know, however, how to respond and had little motivation to learn since his vocation did not encourage such alliances.
She was very pretty and primly dressed, wearing a high-collared dress and gloves to match her bonnet. She sat at a table with a younger girl, two older men, and an older woman. The men looked to be brothers and it was probably a family outing of some sort. The two men were engrossed in some discussion and the woman and girls watched the two men with polite interest.
Anthen wondered what it would be like to have a wife. It seemed like a considerable encumbrance to him and he had yet to determine the benefits of such a union. He had seen plenty of young couples and they appeared happy but the same could not be said for most of the older couples he witnessed. Mature married couples usually seemed bored, at best, and most of the men typically wore a haggard, beaten expression. With his upbringing, the concept of love was foreign to Anthen and most other guardsmen, so it did not enter into his thinking.
When Anthen looked up again and caught not only the daughter but also the older woman—probably the girl's mother—scrutinizing him as a potential suitor, he decided it was time to leave. He pushed the nearly full tankard of ale away and walked the length of the bar toward the exit. He could feel the young woman's eyes watching him but did not look back. He stepped through the door and into the cool April night. He pulled his cloak around him and began to walk along the sidewalk, watching for a carriage.
After a few steps he again sensed someone watching him. He stopped and glanced back, expecting the see the young girl peering through the window or standing by the door, but no one was there. Intrigued now, Anthen decided to delay the cab and walk awhile, just to see what would happen. It was a busy, well-lit street and he was not overly concerned for his safety. He walked the next few blocks expecting the feeling to wane but it persisted. Would a common thief pursue so risky a target for such an extended period? He doubted so and decided to end the game.
He continued to walk, taking the first side road available. Shortly thereafter, he ducked into the first alley he came to that ran parallel to the busy avenue he had just departed. He raced as fast as he could through the dark alley and quickly followed another that he guessed would let him circle back to the main road.
As he approached the avenue again, Anthen felt no one nearby so he stepped nonchalantly back onto the thoroughfare and walked back toward the side street he had used, hoping to now be behind his pursuer. As he neare
d the intersection from the opposite direction he knew he had succeeded, sensing that the man was again nearby. He crossed the main road so that he could see down the side street without being noticed. As he walked by the side street, he glanced over a couple of times but saw no movement.
He walked past the intersection, then crossed back over the main road to retrace his original steps toward the same side road he had first diverted into. He turned the corner once again, walked quickly to the same alley and paused in the shadows. He looked down the dim alleyway and saw a distant, cloaked figure moving slowly away from him. He could not tell much at such a distance but the form was definitely not slight. He entered the alley for a second time and this time cautiously followed the figure ahead, the pursuer now the pursued. It was a standard guardsmen technique when being followed to try to double back and follow the tail. It usually proved not only informative but relatively safe as well because the pursuer’s attention was on finding his quarry again.
Anthen lost sight of the stout figure at about the place where he had originally turned to make his way back to the main boulevard. He assumed that the other man had followed the same path he had earlier. As Anthen neared the junction for the second time, he slowed, suddenly aware of the close presence of the pursuer. He realized too late that the other man had not continued back to the main road but for some reason had remained nearby.