“You’ll be lucky to have any hands left by the time you finish that confine,” Redmun said, walking out onto the terrace with a goblet in his hand. “Something on your mind, lad?”
Such concern suggested that Redmun was becoming all the more lenient and amenable as time pressed on. He nonetheless remained austere a good deal of the time, and still didn’t tolerate idlers by any means. Yet, having pulled his weight during his stay in that jungle, William was relating to him just fine now.
After Redmun asked him about his troubles, the lad clapped the grime from his hands and sighed.
“It’s all this stuff about the eclipse,” he said openly. “It’s just, nobody knows when it’s going to happen, and I really should try and finish this journey before it arrives. Last thing I want is to get caught in the middle of some massive army and get mauled...or killed! That’s if Drevol doesn’t nab me first.”
“Ah, the infamous eclipse.” Redmun smiled, casting out the remains of the goblet. “It is true. Not many can truly say when the nightly eclipse will appear. However, some speculations are more valuable than others.
“I myself have studied the ways of this world from as far back as I care to recall. Ecliptic lore was one of my favourite subjects. Day and night I studied, during a phase; admiring all the wonders the lunar star could possibly bestow. I will not be able to guarantee the exact ecliptic timescale, lad...but I do know better than most. So fear not. I don’t think your time spent here in Làn Cùrdhal will endanger your race against time. And even if I am at fault about this—which I sincerely doubt—then I shall devise some way of getting you ahead of that army. Even if it kills me.”
Redmun’s words were, indeed, of great comfort to William, a welcome aid, hoisting that colossal weight from his already weakened shoulders. In so doing, William was once again able to place his undivided attention back into his training.
Each morn, before the lad ate any breakfast, Redmun ordered him to run a charted course of the jungle. It may not have been so bad, if it was merely a jog and nothing more; only this course was riddled with all manner of snares and obstacles, through which William had to bolt quickly and skilfully. To do so first thing out of bed was not as easy as it may sound. They weren’t very technical traps, by any means, but they still caught William out on more than one occasion, due to his lack of focus. Be it a basic pitfall or a tripwire, he always ended up running into them and getting trapped. This came as a fierce irritation.
There were many different variations of those snares about, and all were cleverly hidden, both on the forest floor, as well as the treetops themselves. Naturally, these elevated snares were more the likes of netting that would whisk you off your feet; then there you would dangle, upside down, until you were happened upon, hours or even days later. In all, this morning routine helped immensely in sharpening William’s wits.
When he was finished his morning meal, he was ordered to complete a variety of laborious exercises in the glade, using just his body weight for resistance. Young William absolutely loathed this part of the day. Not only because it was dreadfully boring, but also because he vomited into the bushes more than once because of the intensity. Redmun kept pressing him to ‘push through that barrier’ though.
With fifty repetitions to a set, William’s routine mostly consisted of push ups (four different varieties, with eight sets of each); sit ups (the same); and chin ups (as with the last). Now, as you sit there in your cosy house, you might say, “Aye, I could do those exercises. Nay bother to me!” But I challenge you to get into a plank position and do fifty slow push ups, right now, without stopping. Then try to envision how William must’ve felt, doing it in a bitterly gloomy jungle, teeming with animals and nasty bugs of every conceivable kind. Then, I’ll have you picture a strict tutor peering down over you, impelling you to work harder...and Redmun was a tough one, too. Not for one, solitary second did he go easy on poor William. Not one!
Even on the very first day of training, he said to William, “Just you know, boy, such tuition is not supposed to be easy! If it is not difficult, then it is not worth doing! And I promise you, I will show you no leniency.”
Now that might give you some idea of just how unyielding Redmun actually was. William had never known such corporal hardships, not even old Blackhead.
As he endured all of those strenuous exercises of his, the young fellow was being secretly observed by a certain someone from that guest cabin...and it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out who. From shadow she observed him; observing him in all of his pain as he crammed every last ribbon of fortitude into this one cause, and on some diminutive level, it warmed her opinion of him all the more. For the sake of discretion, however, she kept her thoughts to herself and herself alone.
Great, potted fly traps were positioned strategically throughout the borders of the glade for William to stalk using stealth. These were hostile creatures. Always wary. So he needed to sneak as gingerly as possible. To do so successfully, Redmun had provided him with the knowledge of how to spot an enemy in the dark and how, for William himself, to become as invisible as humanly possible.
“Your common enemies on these lands will not be very clever, boy,” Redmun would say. “So misleading them should take little effort. Know this, and know it well! There are three points to the art of invisibility. Three things the eye instinctively looks for. Shape, movement, and colour, each of which can be manipulated. Your silhouette can be obscured by hiding a limb, say. Proper breathing and relaxation will vanquish all movement. And dark attire will remove any impression of colour. Your cloak, for example.”
Soon those fly traps didn’t know where to look, before a stick was pressed against their verdant throats from behind the cover of darkness. He was like a ghost.
Nine weeks in and, by then, William had become thoroughly enthralled by Redmun’s teachings. Alongside that interest grew an even greater bond with his tutor. He was truly accepting what Redmun—and that place—was doing for him. He could now see that he was benefiting from his teachings in both body and mind. He was also fairly chuffed with his own headway, too, given how he was depositing no less than one hundred percent of his effort. Little did he know that he was also a very worthy student in Redmun’s eyes, too, which would’ve been a very pleasing concept to him, had William known it.
You see, as far back as he could remember, he always liked to think that he might have some latent mettle in him, stowed away in some part of him which he never knew of. And he did, contrary to what he actually believed. All he needed was someone to help him bring it out, and that someone was Redmun.
You should also understand that time remained ineffectual upon William’s learning after what he’d gathered from Redmun’s acquaintance with ecliptic lore. But, each night, he would still watch the skies in the hope that he would see no such signs of a coming eclipse. Fortunately, he never saw any; just the glowing of stars on clear nights as all nocturnal life arose to praise the visit of that grand lunar star.
Glittering frost dusted the jungle floor and, for some days, dancing snowflakes had been roiling gracefully through the day’s crisp whisper. William had become so devoted to his teachings by then that he would continue to train alone, even when dusk had fallen and Redmun was after concluding their session for the evening. In the dark of twilight he’d remain in the glade, examining the wilds, trying to envision even more efficient ways to attack potential enemies. After that task had been provisionally fulfilled, he would sneak through the trees, endeavouring to make not so much as a single rustle upon the brushwood floor. If he heard a snap, he would beat himself up over it and start over again until he did it properly. After that, he practiced strict method with his stick for several minutes at a time. Lastly, he would run the jungle again before it got too late, and to negotiate those booby traps in the darkness was even more hazardous than at dawn. But, by then, William’s faculties had been honed almost to the point of impeccability, in that never once did they lead him into the clasp of thos
e notorious snares.
All of this extra training was done of William’s very own accord. Merkel the Fox, don’t you know, usually accompanied him on his late-night runs, lest something unfortunate happen to the boy. William didn’t mind, though. For although he may have been making very good progress, he was still leagues away from being an accomplished warrior. And he was very appreciative of the help. Unbeknown to him too, Redmun would loiter under the dark of the terrace sometimes with his mug of wine, listening out for signs of progress. It was during such moments that Redmun truly understood just how much heart William really had.
Eventually, the time came when William felt that he’d finally earned the right to ask Redmun a rather delicate question with regards to training, and so he did. What he wanted to know was this;
“Redmun, if you don’t mind me asking,” he said, a trifle hesitantly, “but, with you...um...not being able to...er...see and all, how is it you are able to fight so well? I mean, there must’ve been over a hundred Gremlins that night in the arena. But you just shredded through them like they weren’t even there! How?”
Not in the least troubled by William’s inquisitiveness, Redmun explained that, ever since his sight had been taken from him, over the course of time, after much self-training, and over masses of conflict, he’d attained a certain technique of combat which made him employ his other senses. He then built onto a particular system where, upon the detection of sound, smell, and touch, he could predetermine an enemy’s movement, thus giving him the ability to judge the attack and strike out on all crucial angles. Naturally, it took many years of trial and error, along with several more months of practice within the field itself. But like any other tasks impeded by his handicap, Redmun soon had it perfected to a fine art. Other than that, there were some circumstances whereby his skills were hampered. One occasion being when William was caught in the conflict with Valstarius. Realising the potential risks of a chance attack there, Redmun could do no more than bide his time before acting. Otherwise the results could very well have not only been fatal for the centaur but for William, too. Once he understood this, the lad was all the more grateful for Redmun’s watchfulness that night.
After the eleventh week, William discovered that he was becoming more limber, having been studying the secrets of agility. This latest stage of training began by jumping about in the high grasses of wood spurge in the middle of a coppice nearby. That way, if William fell, not much damage would be done. And even though that coppice was quite beautiful, with its subtle mix of scarlet pimpernel and bluebell, it was still a haven for guised rocks and stinging nettles. Yet William’s trifling injuries had been so frequent that scrapes became second nature to him.
Redmun made him jump straight up, knees high, for minutes at a time in the hope that this would eventually promote more spring in William’s bound. It did. This later progressed to rather girly cartwheels, which soon brought them to backflips, which was more William’s cup of tea. But there was something about the landing of a backflip that terrified him. For ages he kept landing with painful-looking spills, but he was straight up to attempt it again. He just found it extremely demanding, and unnatural, to pull his feet in before landing down. But he was determined, so he persevered.
As he worked on that, his basic leaping lessons were otherwise moved to a nearby bayou, within which, many wooden posts of all different heights were set. With this being an expansion of the bounding tutorial, it was all about William controlling his point of balance, as well as gaining sufficient height. Standing just off the bayou, Redmun ordered him to spring from one post to the next. Do you think that sounds easy...or amusing, perhaps? Maybe you will reconsider when I tell you that each post was at least five feet apart, and the posts themselves were no more than a foot thick, and slicked with wet algae. Nor was it an option to slip off any of these, as the thought of what lay below the thin mist of those ripples beneath was very unnerving, especially when William spotted a slithery neck splashing down into the water one day. He wasn’t sure what he was looking at, nor did he see it again, which was worse. What, may I ask, is your opinion of it now?
I am delighted to say that, never once did William falter in this particular lesson, for it is strange what a person can achieve when being driven by pure fear alone. Once he was able to conquer this task comfortably, he had to do it blindfolded, and that took another long time. ‘Twas only then did he manage to slip; once, twice, three times. On every occasion, he scrambled out of that murky swamp like his life depended on it. He then lay upon the bank, panting, and observing the strange sway of the ripples, as though something hidden was reluctantly returning to the blacker depths.
“W-W-What was that?!” he asked in a shivering state. “Redmun! Did you see that?!”
“Creatures who choose willingly to dwell in such fetid places are never ones to be reckoned with. I shall say no more,” the man said and smiled, though what did that say for him, residing where he was.
After some further weeks of studying these techniques, William was eventually able to do things with his muscles which he never would’ve dreamt possible. Not only could he hold himself on a handstand and walk about, but he could also backflip around the glade with no trouble at all. He could also jump five feet into the air and spin about sideways like a corkscrew before landing with textbook precision. He was mightily impressed by his own achievements, but he stayed humble. Likewise, Redmun kept noticing a consistency of ever growing potential.
Those past four months were displaying quite positively upon William’s appearance; with his hair having grown out a little more, and his frame, a tad more athletic than when he’d first arrived. But one evening after evening chores, when the sun was at its lowest, it all took a bit of an unexpected turn.
* * *
William was staggering wearily to the cabin. Covered from head to toe in sweat and mud, he dragged his feet sluggishly beneath him as he wandered up the terrace stair.
Smoke rose faintly from the chimney of the guest cabin; however, the lights were out, and there was no noise from within. They must be asleep, William thought, smiling solemnly. He would’ve liked to have seen his friends, if but just once in a while. He was inclined to try and visit them whenever he could, but Redmun always called him back to do more work, and by the time he was finished for the day their lights would be out. It was at such times that his lonely feelings returned to him, and that’s when William would go off to train alone for a spell. Apart from when they spotted him—those times when they were out collecting their fresh firewood—they too sometimes tried visiting William, particularly Icrick and Khrum. Sadly, they always just missed him. So regretfully they would leave their messages with Redmun.
“Your friends dropped by,” Redmun would often mention in passing. “But I told them you were busy. You can see them tonight...when you’re done training.”
But they were always fast asleep by then, and this made for woeful times for William.
In spite of his dejection, William knew deep down that his training was crucial, and that it deserved complete honour and utmost dedication. Because one day it could not only benefit him, but his friends, too.
Before stepping inside to wash up, he laboriously removed his grotty boots and left them neatly outside the porch door. Into the scullery he trudged, to where the washing trough was. Beside it were shelves of decanters, jugs, bowls; as well as pots, pans, plates, and other kitchenware. William knelt lazily beside the trough where he cordially doused his face with a gratifying sigh. Those icy beads soothed his blistering strains from that arduous livelong day, and that was exactly what he needed. Both that and a hot meal.
All of a sudden, as if someone had opened their eyes to some unyielding nightmare, he heard a brutal yell from the far end of the cabin. At first, he wasn’t sure if he’d heard it at all. He was scrubbing his face when it happened. So he waited to see if he heard it again. And he did, a few seconds later, only this time there was a loud clatter afterwards. Jumping to his
feet, William ran to it at once. Dashing through the kitchen he noticed a heavy poker leaning against the threshold in the shadows, which he instinctively brought with him. Better to have it and not need it, than to need it and not have it, he figured.
How murky that cabin was. Dark and full of hoarded possessions. A long, haunting hallway ran on with many rooms on either side; all the while, the light was scarce to go by. Nor was William at all familiar with where he was going, save for the route to his own quarters. Redmun had strictly forbidden intrusiveness when it came to the rest of his abode. Yet the boy considered this incident a definite exception to the rule. He knew that it could only be Redmun shouting. Icrick and the others were fast asleep elsewhere, and nobody else even knew that this place existed. At least, that’s what he hoped.
Scrabbling through those dim hallways, William pursued the noise, glancing into each and every chamber as he passed them.
“Redmun!” he begged discreetly, for fear of prowlers. “Redmun, where are you?”
Eerily, nobody replied. Beneath the shuffling of William’s hasty steps, the floorboards creaked unavoidably. The shouting suddenly started again, only this time it grumbled between wails. Just then, William saw a line of light, as that of an open door at the end of the corridor. It was Redmun’s study, from behind whose door those noises were emitting.
Skulking ever closer, William’s footing kept to utter quietude, his weapon held ready before him. He could but presume there was danger. If there was one thing Redmun always told him, it was to expect the unexpected.
The Other of One - Book One: The Lythiann Chronicles Page 36