Knight and Champion

by Steven J Shelley

  Hundreds of mages were trained in the Tevalo style and dispatched to garrisons throughout the land. Several mages, such as Sissel, Gosta and Nanomine, distinguished themselves in battle and became much-loved heroes. But from that glittering halcyon era, Tevalo magic endured diminishing glory through the years, decades, centuries. The Tevalo seed, the gestalt that allowed some humans to command the very fabric of the world, was weakening. Mages were drafted into apprenticeships at the slightest hint of ability, lowering standards across the land. One by one the ancient schools closed, abandoned for bandits and wild animals. The royal army began focusing exclusively on more conventional battle techniques, training sappers and rangers in the place of the dwindling mages. No longer seen or indeed valued by the general populace, magic slowly became an exotic echo from the past, restricted to dusty book collections and, very rarely, a garrison or two. Mages had fallen to a point where a washed-up old hack in a remote southern castle was prepared to take on an apprentice with unproven ability.

  Possessed of a questing but rational mind, Catelyn hardly counted herself as a believer, but in truth her afternoons with Yoii were benign and stress-free. She didn’t mind trawling through Yoii’s library or listening to his sermons on geopolitics. Her mind was hungry for knowledge and she always walked away from the mage thoroughly satiated. As long as she completed her daily melee training, it didn’t really matter what Yoii threw at her. The old man seemed content to school her before exploring her actual ability. It seemed important to him that she understand her place in the tragic history of human magic. She had no idea if she was overflowing with this mysterious gestalt or not - she certainly didn’t feel any different since Yoii’s ‘momentous’ discovery. In fact, she was more than happy to delay, if possible, the inevitable moment when she was tested. If she disappointed Yoii, his patronage might be stripped away. That meant going back to scrubbing floors. Just as well, then, that the mag reveled in her interest and seemed a younger man during their sessions. He even extricated himself from his paraja addiction and was healthier than he’d been in years.

  Of course, the blessedly stable period couldn’t last. It was noon on a Sunday when Yoii met Catelyn outside his door. He was carrying a backpack and tapped his walking stick playfully on the stone floor.

  “It’s time,” he said. “Come, girl.”

  Filled with dread, she followed the mage into the yard. There was more tension in the air than was usual for a Sunday. Yoii was muttering under his breath. Following his gaze, Catelyn scanned the upper gatehouse and was shocked to see the rotting heads of five elves mounted on the crown balustrade. She’d heard rumors of their capture near the lumber camp in the Furan Mountains, but the visual confirmation was still a shock.

  “Tortured first, no doubt,” Yoii said. “Like it’s ever worthwhile torturing an elf.”

  Catelyn looked for Dahal Rane. Too far to tell for sure, but those elves looked nothing like the sackers of Guill.

  “Hurry along, girl,” Yoii urged as they stepped through the mud under the gatehouse.

  Though Catelyn had a sinking feeling she was about to be exposed, she didn’t mind leaving the castle for a while. Truth be told, it had become an ugly place lately. Adrenalized by their scouting missions, the men had taken to daily brawling for crowns and liquor. Duskovy had either permitted the lapse in discipline or was oblivious to it. She sensed the pattern had something to do with the other piece of news doing the rounds - that orcs had been seen in the Mittel Mountains to the southwest. More than one dependable source had confirmed the loss of Deep Frenshan Pass. Plus, the Mittel bird that usually arrived at the turn of each month had failed. A dispatch rider had left for Lakeshore two days ago, ensuring that King Rosten was aware of the ominous tidings from the Southern Reaches. Catelyn didn’t know what to make of it all. The news was alarming, yes, but the Mittel Mountains were too far away for it to be confronting. Deep Frenshan Pass held a small garrison and had always been a contested location. It might just be a border skirmish, nothing more. Something that King Rosten could handle with a little skillful diplomacy.

  Catelyn followed Yoii down a plummeting goat track that veered north. Within minutes they were deep in Kain Gorge to the immediate west of the castle. Catelyn had often gazed into the dramatic gouge from the castle’s upper ramparts. Here, the sun was blocked by the keep and she enjoyed the cool shadow of the weed-filled ravine. Yoii showed impressive agility for his age as he attacked the facing slope, selecting another goat track that zig-zagged its way through granite boulders. Catelyn realized his steady rise from drug-addicted sideshow to authoritative mage was culminating in this moment, which piled more pressure on her. He’d given her a great deal over the last few weeks - it was clearly time for her to balance the ledger. She only just managed to keep up as they ascended a steep hill, her daily training holding her in good stead.

  “Would you believe an army once used this approach to attack the castle,” Yoii said over his shoulder. “Oliskars from the Liteen Plains. Barely human, if you study the remnants of their society. They were burned alive down here. Damned fools couldn’t accept that Ardennia would be born with or without them.”

  Catelyn nodded, finding it painfully easy to imagine the horror of widespread panic in this valley.

  “Is Duskovy Castle impregnable like everybody says?” she asked, indirectly referring to the troubling rumors spreading across the land.

  “Aye,” Yoii said after a pause. “To conventional attacks.”

  Catelyn was about to press him on that unsatisfying response when they reached the summit of their climb. The castle looked grim and imposing across the gorge. Yoii grunted happily and skittered down a hill overrun with thistle. A tranquil, glassy lake lay to the northwest. Knowing what was coming, Catelyn felt the knot in her chest twist and churn.

  “Can you feel the potential here?” Yoii asked, standing at the edge of the water. “When I was young I felt like I could drain calderas like this.”

  The old man’s eyes were wistful and sad. Both knew that no living mage could possibly perform such a task. Not any more.

  “Show me what you have,” she said lightly, removing the pack from his shoulders. “I need to see your form before I make a complete fool of myself.”

  Yoii searched her eyes, perhaps expecting mockery. He smiled.

  “Of course,” he said. “I’ve always been most comfortable with water, truth be told.”

  Catelyn sat on the hill and bit into an apple. She’d successfully managed to defer her own performance, but not for long. Yoii positioned himself before the placid water, feet apart, arms in the onchi position. Catelyn had seen her mother, a devoted julus practitioner, perfecting the very same stance over the years. It was considered optimal for blood flow and concentration. The joyous light in Yoii’s eyes was infectious, but there was also something vaguely forlorn about his pose. He drew his arms in, one after the other, repeating the slow, languid motion whilst muttering to himself. Catelyn recognized them as words of power - the mage had spent an entire week providing tuition on them. The incantations were intensely personal and unique to the caster.Of course, Catelyn had immediately wanted to know what hers might be, but Yoii assured her that they would come of their own accord. In the violence of the moment, as he put it.

  She watched with intense interest as elegant ripples spread across the lake. Yoii’s movements quickened as he commanded the water to bend to his will. Before long his arms were spiraling in perfect symmetry, a startling, magnetic feat of agility. He threw his arms forward vigorously, teasing a wispy column of water from the center of the lake. The geyser rose higher and higher, snaking like a threatened cobra, before shooting in all directions. Catelyn chuckled with pleasure as spray raked her cheeks. Heaving from the effort, Yoii sat on his haunches.

  “Wonderful,” Catelyn said, impressed and underwhelmed at the same time. This man was a seasoned mage standing in what was virtually his training ground. What he had just shown Catelyn was all he had to of
fer from a lifetime of devoted study. Her delight was skin-deep, merely the appreciation of something she hadn’t seen before. The real story here was one of decline and atrophy. Perhaps sensing as much, Yoii’s eyes were wistful as he regained his breath.

  “I’m not sure if I can do that,” Catelyn said honestly.

  “My dear, I am certain you can do something,” the mage replied. “Let’s find out what that thing is.”

  Tossing her apple core away, Catelyn got to her feet. Yoii made way for her, his eyes alive with anticipation. She stood by the water and frowned, feeling immensely foolish. The lake was quiet. A flock of night gulls lazily circled the distant castle ramparts. The sun drew prisms of multi-colored light on the recently disturbed water. Just how had she gotten herself in this position?

  “Your family was much respected,” the mage said. Their loss reverberated across the Southern Reaches.”

  Catelyn froze. Why was Yoii bringing this up now?

  “Find your pain, Catelyn,” he continued. “Behind that veil you might find a way in.”

  “In what?” Catelyn asked. There was still so much to learn and, standing there like a fool, it made her angry.

  “Spread your energy,” Yoii barked, “Focus your thoughts.”

  Catelyn slipped into her mother’s onchi stance, surprised at how easily it came. All those mornings, sneaking down the stairs to watch Vesna work her sequences. She always thought she’d gotten away with it, but a memory assaulted her from out of the blue.

  Her mother turned and smiled.

  “You’re up early, Cat,” she said, holding her onchi.

  “I’m sorry, Mama,” was all Catelyn could say. She’d interrupted her mother’s precious quiet time.

  “I’m sorry,” she repeated, now looking out over the lake. She could feel something inside. Something desperate to be on the outside.

  “Go!” she cried, terrified of the upwelling. It made her head spin and her stomach churn. Breathing deeply, she pressed the heel of her hand forward. In her mind’s eye a flower wilted, blackened and gradually shrunk into oblivion. The ghastly image somehow settled her chaotic thoughts. She opened her eyes, blinking through the sweat. The lake was infuriatingly placid. A hard ball of bitterness stuck in her throat.

  “There,” she said. “Told you I couldn’t fucking do it.”

  To make matters worse, she felt a clammy wetness at her thighs. Her bladder had given way.

  “I’ll met you back at the castle, Yoii,” she said through clenched teeth.

  The mage wore a peculiar expression. He looked at Catelyn as if she’d done something obscene. Was it the loss of physical control? She doubted he’d even noticed. Then what?

  “As you wish,” Yoii said icily before heading back up the hill.

  Catelyn shouldered the pack with a deep sigh and followed at a distance. The thistles on the hill seemed browner than before. In fact, they looked dead. More concerned about Yoii, she thought no more of it. The pair passed through Kain Gorge and were both breathing heavily by the time they made it back to the gatehouse. By this stage Catelyn’s breeches were nigh-unwearable.

  “I apologize,” Yoii said. “This was a mistake.”

  Puzzled by his behavior, Catelyn swam through the shadows under the gatehouse. What was a mistake? Today’s failed exercise, or her entire tutelage? There was no time to dwell on their disastrous outing - a number of soldiers marched across the yard with grave purpose.

  “Release the outer trellis!” called Sergeant Havara. The clatter of heavy chains rumbled through the stone walls as Catelyn made a beeline for her room. Why were they securing the keep at noon on a Sunday?

  “Up the stairs, Catelyn,” Yoii said, catching up to her. She flinched as he gripped her elbow.

  “I need to wash first,” she protested.

  “This won’t take long.”

  Exasperated, Catelyn broke free of the mage’s grasp and took the keep stairs two at a time. Whatever Yoii had planned, she wanted it over and done with. A nervous-looking guard denied access to the Baron’s quarters.

  “Let us through, soldier,” Yoii ordered.

  Catelyn followed the mage though and was confronted with a rare sight. The Baron was clad in full battle dress as he issued instructions to three soldiers fitted for long distance riding. She couldn’t help but gawk at the intricate embroidery on his red cape - a stylized elk on blue and red chequy. The armor itself seemed impossibly white, crafted from bone or ivory and treated to within an inch of its life. She’d never known that armor could be modified in such beautiful fashion. The sight made her yearn for a military patron, magic be damned.

  “Stay together and look sharp,” Duskovy said as he handed out rolled parchments sealed with wax. “Press to Andra and beyond. Don’t stop until you have Rosten’s undivided attention. Go.”

  Catelyn stepped back as the riders clattered from the room.

  “Where have you been, mage?” Duskovy asked irritably, taking a deep draught of wine. “As useless as you are, your place is here.”

  “I have been training the girl, milord,” Yoii said, visibly annoyed by the Baron’s barb.

  “Yes, yes, to what significance?” the Baron asked.

  “I made an error,” Yoii said flatly. “She is pregnant with Dire gestalt and should be clapped in chains.”

  Catelyn’s blood ran cold. What in seven hells did that mean? The Baron set aside his silver goblet and laid a hand on the pommel of his longsword.

  “Are you sure?” he asked with quiet menace. “Tell me why I shouldn’t run the bitch through right now.”

  “She is no threat to us, milord,” Yoii said. “She is weak and may be studied at our leisure.”

  Duskovy peered at Catelyn. She pressed her palms against the cold stone wall, wondering if this was all a nasty dream. At length the Baron shook his head and nodded to a guard by the door.

  “Cell her,” he ordered tiredly. “Stay, mage. We have orcs on our doorstep and I need your advice.”

  8 - Tanis

  It was called a ‘soft camp’. There was nothing that couldn’t be packed away within three minutes. Jader had called for yet another relocation, this time eying off the thick spruce forest at the base of Mastana Falls. Tanis yawned heavily as he rolled to his feet, rolling his mat without thinking about it. He’d been on the move with Jader’s ranger company for three weeks and knew what was expected of him. These hardened operators took great pride in their mobility, so much so that the sheltered boy from Guill often found himself flailing in the steady flow of movement. Maybe, just maybe, he was beginning to learn a thing or two about the rangers’ particular rhythm. At this point it was a major victory if he was standing with the others when Jader gave the signal to move out.

  Today the sky was overcast and the Dawn Forest thick with drizzle. The rangers trekked in single file through soft bracken, the patter of rain drops on leather a strangely comforting sound. Of course, Tanis’s first days had been anything but comforting. Jader refused to explain why he’d risked everything in taking the boy under his wing, which rankled some of the older hands. Not only was Tanis unfamiliar with the ways of the forest, he was completely unskilled. Such an individual was a millstone around their necks in many, many ways. Whilst Tanis was grateful to be saved from Rahal Dane and the dedicated elf pursuit, he had little patience for the hostility directed his way. He never asked to join the rangers. He would’ve been perfectly content to secure provisions and begin his western trek back to Guill, especially now he’d eluded the elves.

  But Jader clearly had other ideas. Truth be told, his arguments were somewhat compelling. He claimed Tavalen was no more, burned down by a raw, grieving community. Worse, the ranger confirmed the death or disappearance of the entire la Berne family. Even Hadley, whom he’d left on the west bank of the Ebbe, had not been seen for weeks. Either she’d been spotted by that night boat or was dead too. All up, Tanis could see that returning to Guill posed problems he would prefer to avoid. Which left him wit
h little choice but to fall in with the rangers. Though Jader’s reticence was frustrating, traveling with the Dawn Rangers had admittedly been a net positive. The structured routine and steady nourishment was a boon after his horrible flight from the west. The rangers also distracted him from his own mind. His ‘apprenticeship’ occupied mind and body by day and sent him tumbling into deep sleep by night.

  Tanis’s train of thought was was broken by a gentle spear prod to the back of the knee. Adalita, playing around as usual. But she was right. In the forest, danger was vertical as well as horizontal. He needed to improve his mental discipline. Jader liked to say that a ranger’s only time for thinking was around the fire. It was slightly galling to Tanis that Adalita was probably as old as he was, perhaps a summer older, but she came down on him the hardest. A six-year-old orphan when Jader first came across her in Feyd Bridge, Adalita was a forester through and through. Training a child would’ve been no small task, but no one questioned Jader’s long term planning. Adalita was now one of the best of the seventeen rangers in his command. She was also relentless in her criticism, happy only when Tanis broke down and retaliated. That meant she’d won. He wasn’t quite sure if she resented his presence or was genuinely interested in fast-tracking his development. Sometimes it seemed like a bit of both.

  At the front of the line Jader raised his fist and everyone dropped low. A cautious ranger, he tended to stop when he detected the slightest irregularity in the dappled green. Before long the company was one the move again, now threading a cool gully. The canopy here was an unbroken ceiling of dense foliage. An unseen waterfall rumbled somewhere ahead of them. The company had been patrolling the northern western forest block for over a week, gradually circling in on the Furan peaks to the north. Tanis suspected that Jader was acting under royal orders he’d received in the Border Village. As to the nature of those orders, he was none the wiser. He’d overheard Adalita muttering about orcs, but surely that wasn’t possible.