by Prince Edan
The man yelled in outrage. Roland glanced at his table close to stage. Imani had left his sword there. It was too far away. He wouldn’t make it in time. They were going to kill him. His plan would have worked out perfectly if Imani had stayed put.
“Hold up,” Roland said as he retreated. “We don’t have to fight if you leave the money and go. I won’t tell any cops or knights, and you can attack somewhere else. Deal?”
Roland’s back hit someone’s chair. He twisted his body to reach over their shoulder for a wine glass and threw its contents into the eyes of his closest pursuer. The man cursed and rubbed his eyes. Roland took a knife from the table behind him.
The second drove his sword toward Roland’s abdomen, and he blocked with the small blade. The impact threatened to send the knife flying but Roland held it steady. He took even breaths as his heart slammed against his rib cage.
“Hey!” a stern voice called out. “Leave the boy alone.”
Roland’s eyes widened. Some of the customers and workers had used the situation with Imani to their advantage. While Roland worried about how to stay alive, they had retrieved their weapons. Roland counted twenty fighters. Most were men but a few women had joined the fight. Whether they were well practiced or not didn’t matter. It was quantity over quality. He checked on Imani. She had knocked down a second attacker, and was focusing on the final one.
That was how the bystander effect worked. One person’s actions could change the situation dramatically. People naturally looked for someone to lead them during a crisis, and Imani had become that leader. The rouge resistance members didn’t examine their grim situation for long before they turned and ran. Some of the fighters stayed, others chased after the criminals. In their haste to leave, the resistance members left the loot on the table.
Mr. Carter left his safe position beneath a table and approached Roland. “Are you all right?”
Roland nodded.
Mr. Carter motioned to Imani, who was surrounded by people that wanted to show their gratitude and praise her sword fighting skill. Roland felt a strange pang in his chest. Was he jealous of her? He wanted to help everyone, but she got the credit. He was just the coward. Imani and Clark were the strong ones; he was nothing when compared to them.
“Is she a friend of yours?”
“Something like that.”
“Man, that was a worrisome experience. I thought for sure they would hurt someone. You are extremely lucky to have someone like that by your side. Is she your girlfriend?”
Roland didn’t answer.
Mr. Carter slapped his back. “Well, if you like her, you should claim her before someone else makes a move on her.”
So Cassandra really intended to keep Roland a secret from her dad. In that case, he wouldn’t be the one to tell him.
“Truth be told, I’m worried about letting you walk back to the school alone with all the attacks that have been happening. I’ll get a carriage for both of you,” Carter said.
“Don’t worry about me, get one for Imani and take the cost from my paycheck. I have somewhere else to go.”
Roland thanked him and said goodnight. He retrieved his sword from the table and his clothes from the changing room. He didn’t have anything else to do, he just didn’t want to spend another second with Imani and dwell on the weaknesses that he was trying hard to change.
Chapter XXI
It was eight in the morning and Roland had been practicing his sword swings for an hour. Standing in the midst of a clump of trees, he took slow, even breaths. He held the saber in front of him, and pointed it at a tall pine tree whose trunk was riddled with slash marks from every possible direction. His arm ached but he held the weapon steady. He slashed to the right in a wide arc. Sweat stung his eyes and he blinked rapidly.
“A hundred and five.” His voice was hoarse, raspy.
He had lost track of how many sets he had done so far. He was bone tired. His vision blurred as he let the sword drop to his side. A warning bell rang in the distance for breakfast and Roland sheathed the sword. A long time ago, he had decided that he wouldn’t give up despite whatever trials came his way. This was proof of his resolution.
No clouds could be seen in the bright blue sky, and Roland shielded his eyes from the sun’s rays as he left the shelter of the trees. He returned to the dorm, showered, changed into his uniform, then made his way to the cafeteria along the paved path. He went into the school’s main building and took the hallway that led him right to the cafeteria’s large entryway.
When Roland entered the large room, he saw that Clark and Kio had already arrived. Kio waved and Roland nodded in response.
He would have to tell Director Brody about the Rouge Resistance’s attack at the diner eventually, but he was grateful for the distraction the meal provided. The school’s director and teachers were seated at a long wooden table at the front of the room, overseeing the children as they ate and laughed.
A concerned look crossed Kio’s face as Roland sat beside him at the table that was reserved for students of the Lion fraction. “Are you all right? You got back late last night and passed out before I could ask you anything.”
“Work went overtime.”
“You took Imani with you, right?” Clark asked.
“Yes.”
“How’d it go?” Kio asked in between mouthfuls.
Roland glanced at the food on the wooden table. There was French toast and syrup, scrambled eggs, and fruits. He ate two slices of French toast. Like always, the food was good.
“Something wrong?” Kio queried.
Roland bit his lower lip. “Nothing easy is worth very much, huh?”
If he wanted to protect others, he would have to be able to protect himself. He had been given the opportunity to grow as a fighter and he intended to take advantage of it. He held his calloused hands in front of his face. One day his hard work would pay off, and he would finally meet his family. He brushed away the nagging feeling that they may no longer exist. Roland refused to accept that possibility.
The great oak double doors swung open and three children walked in, ten royal guards trailing behind them. There were two princesses, and one prince. Roland didn’t keep up with political affairs much so he had no idea what their names were, or how important they were in society for that matter.
“Damn,” Clark muttered. “And I thought my family was rich. Even I don’t have that many guards following my every move.”
“You don’t have any guards following you at all because you aren’t worth the money or time,” Roland retorted with a grin.
The two princesses were dressed in exquisite gowns, the hems dragging along the floor. They wore heels. He smirked as he remembered when he first met Cassandra and she took her heels off and threw them at their attackers. She missed by a long shot but it was admirable.
He watched the royal children with piqued interest. Long, curly hair reached past the princesses’ shoulders. Roland couldn’t help following the low necklines of the dresses. The prince looked intimidating, broad shouldered and tall with cropped brown hair. He had a chiseled jaw and pale white skin. He wore royal attire: a black suit with a blue sash over his shoulder. They stopped in front of the teachers’ table.
“Isn’t that a bit much for attending the first day of school?” Clark asked bitterly.
“Jealous?” Roland asked.
“Obviously. Another group of stuck up assholes has joined our school,” Clark said.
“We don’t know if they’re bad yet,” Kio said. “Only time will tell.”
Clark shrugged. “I’ll give them a day.”
“I’ll give them a few hours.” Roland smiled. “And you’re quite conceited yourself, Clark.”
“You’re no saint either, Roland,” Clark shot back.
Director Brody stood and shook a gold bell. Its ring resonated throughout the cafeteria. Silence filled the large room as all eyes were on the proceedings. “Good morning, Princess Anna, Princess Cecile, and Prince Brian
. It’s a pleasure to have you at our academy. I assure you that our students are well behaved and will welcome you into our school with open arms. May you succeed at all that you set out to accomplish.”
“Why didn’t I get such a lovely reception?” Clark muttered. “You know what this is? It’s favoritism at its best.”
“Well, what do you expect?” Roland said dryly. “It’s the King’s children.”
Brody bowed.
The royal children showed their respect by doing the same. They murmured their thanks and walked toward an empty spot at the table behind the lion totem pole, their guards in tow. As they took their seats, the kids around them were eager to talk but they were silenced by Director Brody.
“The school’s Fall Ball will proceed as planned this Friday. Please dress appropriately, and don’t forget to have fun within the school’s regulations. Furthermore, due to the increase in rebel attacks, students are not allowed to leave the school without permission from me or one of your professors. This is not an attempt to keep you caged, this is for your own safety. With that said, please enjoy your meal.”
Brody sat and loud conversations erupted around the room. There was talk of the ball as well as the Rouge Resistance. Roland had already run into them twice. That was incredibly bad luck on his part. Soon he would be joining the fight against those bastards.
He glanced at the royal kids at the far end of the table. It appeared Prince Brian wasn’t interested in the meal. He left the table holding a girl’s hand. The prince twisted his body so the teachers wouldn’t see him lean down and kiss her lips. They smiled as they talked about something inaudible and walked down the aisle. It wasn’t until the couple got closer that Roland recognized the girl’s mesmerizing blue eyes and blemish free complexion. Her long black her was arranged into a neat bun.
“Fuck,” he said.
He met Cassandra’s eyes and she looked away.
Clark chuckled. “No way. She got bored of you pretty quick, eh?”
Roland watched her back as she left the cafeteria. Frustration clouded his mind. No matter how hard he tried, he just wasn’t good enough. He slammed his fist on the table and the dishes rattled.
Kio touched his shoulder.
“Don’t do that,” Roland said, shrugging him off. Losing all interest in the food around him, he stood and strode toward the doors.
He could feel the intensity of his friend’s gaze as he left, but he knew that if he turned back, he might cry. The pressure was getting to him, everyone seemed to be pointing out his flaws and there was no solace to be found.
Chapter XXII
Roland stood on the wooden deck behind the boy’s dorm. It was sparsely decorated with plush lounge chairs and potted plants. He had opted to skip class for the morning, his mind wouldn’t focus. He kept seeing Cassandra with that damn prince. He tried to think of something else, anything else.
Horses were good, they could trample just about anyone even a prin—no, he wouldn’t think of it.
On the other hand, Clark had decided to join Roland on the deck. Perhaps, he just didn’t want to go to class. He was a lazy kid. Roland was sure the boy had nothing better to do at the time.
He glanced at Clark who was lying on the chair, his hand arms crossed behind his head. Clark’s hair was tied back, and his dark green eyes watched Roland.
“You came here to laugh at me, didn’t you?” Roland asked.
“Not really,” Clark responded nonchalantly, his body relaxed and his face indifferent.
“Your presence is annoying.”
“Deal with it.”
An awkward silence settled over the two. Roland wrung his hands. He motioned to the two long swords at Clark’s side. “What are those for?”
Clark shrugged. “Did you like her?”
“Her?”
“You know exactly who I’m talking about,” Clark replied.
“I don’t want to discuss it with you.”
“Well,” Clark said, “it was pretty obvious with the way you stormed out of there. Man, you were furious. I bet that was like a slap in the face.”
Roland imagined wrapping his hands around Clark’s neck and squeezing…he shook himself free of the thought. He didn’t want to hurt Clark, he simply felt confused. Should he go to Cassandra or let her slip from his grasp? Would a woman as beautiful as she ever love him? He raked his hand through his hair. Either way, she wasn’t his top priority. He had to find his family. Still, his stomach churned and anger continued to eat away at his thoughts. He knew that if he didn’t find an outlet for his anger, he would do something to hurt her.
Clark grimaced. “Look, it’s not like I hate you or anything. I wanted to tell you to get over her. I mean, she was way out of your league in the first place. She’s rich, you’re not. She’s surrounded by loads of people that care about her, and frankly even if you include me, you only have three friends.” He paused to study Roland. The boy was tightlipped, his hand curled into a fist. Roland’s gray eyes appeared cloudy, as if he had drifted off to dreamland in the midst of their conversation.
“What I’m trying to say is that you shouldn’t feel too down about it. It was going to happen anyway,” Clark said. “No offense or anything, I mean, you’re a good guy and all.”
Roland raised his left brow in amusement. Clark refused to meet Roland’s gaze. Of all people, bratty little Clark was trying to comfort him. He laughed.
“So what are the swords for?” Roland asked again. His mind cleared, and his thoughts were no longer jumbled.
“I thought it might help you blow off some steam,” Clark told him.
Roland was open to suggestions; anything was fair game as long as he didn’t humiliate himself.
He picked up a sword, and Clark did the same.
“What’re the rules?” Roland asked as they circled each other.
“None. The first person to surrender loses.”
“Boundaries?”
“You just got to stay within the deck.”
Roland nodded. “And if a supervisor shows up?”
“We make a run for it. I’m not doing disciplinary punishment again, but you can let them catch you if you want.”
“All right.” Roland bounced on his toes then stepped back into a stable position. He pointed the sword at Clark.
Clark lurched forward, gripping the sword’s handle with both hands. In a split second he swung the sword toward Roland’s neck. Roland blocked it. Their swords had blunt edges but Roland knew it would cause serious injury if he were hit with a strong blow. His arm shook. For a small guy, Clark surely packed a lot of power.
Roland launched his attack, directing a sweeping arc toward Clark’s abdomen. They traded blows for a while until sweat dripped down their faces.
Faster, Roland thought as he slid to the right to avoid Clark’s slash. The sound of clashing metal rung out. As they picked up their speed and power, sparks appeared between the blades.
Clark dove into a somersault and positioned himself behind Roland. Roland was quick to avoid Clark’s offensive maneuver, meeting his attack with a strong block.
“Your sword handling has improved a bit,” Clark noted, thrusting the blade toward Roland’s knee.
Roland moved to block, but Clark changed direction at the last second. It was a feint. Before Roland could react Clark pressed the sword lightly against his neck. “You’re still gullible. It’s my win.”
Roland gripped his sword’s handle. “Again.”
Clark didn’t hesitate. He drew back only to hack at Roland’s knees. Roland jumped, bringing his knee to his chest and the blade sliced the air. Once landing, Roland drove his sword forward. Clark met it with a parry. Clark spun on his heels and swung the back of his blade at Roland’s head. Roland dodged, leaning so for back he tumbled to the ground.
Clark pressed forward, driving the long sword toward Roland’s crotch. Roland rolled out of his reach. “What the hell man?”
“We said anything goes, right?” Clar
k responded coolly.
Roland jumped to his feet. “If I didn’t know better I would say you were trying to kill me.”
Clark smirked. “You’ll fight seriously if you think your life’s in danger.”
Roland charged. He slashed at Clark’s shoulder, and then swung the blade toward his thighs. Clark blocked each strike effectively. They were both taking quick breaths, waiting for an opening that would allow them to end the match.
“So are you going to give up on Cassandra?” Clark hacked at Roland’s defensive position, forcing him to retreat.
“No,” Roland answered. He wasn’t the type to go down without a fight. Hell even if he lost, he kept trying.
Roland stepped to the side and slashed at Clark’s knee, then his arms, neck, shoulders, and jaw. Each blow was blocked, and Roland was panting.
“You’re going to compete with the prince?”
Roland might have been reading into Cassandra’s actions, but he had been sure she liked him. And he planned on making her look at him, really look at him. His imperfections, and his good points, he would show her everything. If she no longer needed him, he would let her go, but until he heard those dreaded words from her mouth, he wouldn’t back down.
“Seems so.”
Clark thrust the blade toward Roland’s abdomen as soon as he sensed the boy let his guard down. The sword touched Roland’s shirt. “Two points to zero.”
Roland sighed. The duel had helped him relax; he appreciated Clark’s efforts. He walked away, too tired to go on, and collapsed on the floor, groaning.
“It’s not my place to say anything but it might be worthwhile for you to ask that girl to the ball. After that we’ll be stuck with training and work for the Order, so get with her while you still can. Don’t do anything you’ll regret,” Clark warned.
Chapter XXIII
The wooden dock bobbed slightly as Roland stepped toward the edge. Small waves rippled across the dark blue water of Lake Erie. This was one of his favorite places to escape to when he needed to clear his mind. The crisp, fresh air flooded his lungs and he exhaled. It was chilly for October. It wouldn’t be long before winter came and covered the campus in a blanket of white snow. He sat at the edge of the dock and pulled his blazer closer to his body. He removed his socks and shoes, rolled up his pants legs, and plunged his feet into the freezing water. Shuddering, he glanced at the sky.