Most of the cadets simply nodded in response.
Simon and William ended up in the same barracks although their bunks were at different ends of the hall. Both boys slept fitfully and dreamed of awesome battles.
The next day they ate in chow halls. They ate eggs and biscuits with milk and apple cider. After breakfast the leaders had all the cadets line up in a training field with swords. An older lieutenant, maybe thirty, stood at the front of the assembly. He looked the boys over, eyeing each of them in turn.
"My name is Haverden. Lieutenant Haverden. I'll be instructing you in the art of swordplay. Likely all of you have been instructed already. None of you should have been instructed in the ways of the ranger, because the Codex is a closely guarded secret. Swear now, each of you, to protect the contents of the Codex no matter what."
None of the boys acted.
Haverden shouted, "Swear it!"
Simon spoke first, "I swear to protect the Codex."
Other boys one by one started saying it until they all said it.
Haverden smiled and nodded. "The first page of the Codex is two moves. Step forward and swing downward, like so." Haverden demonstrated the move, stepping forward and simultaneously swinging his sword downward. He looked at the boys. "Do it!"
One by one the boys stepped forward and swung downward with his sword. Haverden demonstrated the move a second time and shouted, "All of you, all at the same time, move when I move."
Haverden showed the move again and again, so many times that the sun crept across the sky. Haverden showed no remorse. He gave no time to stop and relax, or even to take a few spare breaths. Simply, strike and advance, strike and advance.
Finally, past high noon, Haverden stopped in mid stride and shouted, "Lunch!"
At least a dozen of the forty boys dropped to the ground. Haverden laughed. "Don't worry! We'll make men of you."
Simon and William made a bee line to the chow hall and got giant bowls of beef stew. They ate greedily. William took a breath between bites. "All morning, one move!"
"It's two moves," Simon said.
William held up a single index finger. "It's one motion."
"Yes, but you're making two moves."
William shook his head. "Regardless. We did the same thing over and over all morning. I hope we do something else in the afternoon."
"I've a bad feeling that you're not going to get that wish."
Haverden lined them up again, and started in with the same movement. Two of the boys groaned, but they followed suit. At mid afternoon Haverden paused. "OK. Time for something different." He looked each boy in the eyes. "Use your left hand now."
One of the boys screeched.
Haverden smiled. "Practicing with the left is important. You'll study every move in the Codex with your right and left."
Weeks passed as Haverden worked them through the steps in the Codex. Each day the moves became more complex, until there were as many as twelve moves on one page.
Finally, they were on page seventeen of the Codex when Haverden gave a spiel to the group. "Page 17 is special, gentlemen. We're going to practice it every day until every one of you has it mastered. I don't care if we have to spend weeks on this page. Most troops master it in a matter of days though. This set of moves is ordered when you are in a defensive position and are outnumbered by too many to hope to live. This page of the Codex is all about making the enemy pay so heavily with their lives, so as to make it worth your own death."
Haverden, in a blaze of steel, moving like they had never seen him move, demonstrated page 17 in a series of slashes and stabs. No blocks. No attempts to parry. Just strike after strike one lined up to set up the next. At the end of it, the boys stood in awe.
One boy up front said, "Can you show us that again, slower?"
"I'll show it to you again, slower."
*
Near the dead of winter, Juxta learned incantation spells. Incantation spells required him to memorize a chant and then pour power in while chanting. Hebron taught him ‘true sight', which allowed him to see objects as they really were. Hebron pointed out that it would be especially useful for sorting through loot or detecting magic. Juxta wasn't sure if Hebron meant it in jest or not. Come springtime, he learned an incantation to breath water. By the end of his first year, he felt confident in his abilities. The summoning of power fatigued him greatly. Hebron assured him it would get easier, and when he learned to cast from his heart easier still. The books contained no lessons to cast from the heart.
*
Time came when they started digging new wells in Raleg. They started six of them in a row. A cadet would be harnessed and lowered into the well, and then an air tube would be sent down. Tools and a bucket would get transferred to and from the boy digging. Each cadet spent six hours on their shift with just a shovel to keep them company and a hooded candle. The cadets took it in stride, taking their turns.
Prince William felt a slight twinge when they locked the harness under his armpits and over his shoulders as if there was something wrong. The other boys that had been through the digging didn't think much of it, although work for sure. But it was odd, Haverden oversaw the proceedings this time, and they hooked a harness up to Simon at the same time as the prince. Haverden noticed the forlorn look on William's face. "What is it, Cadet?"
"Nothing, sir. I was just wondering why do you lock the harnesses on?"
"Simple. Sometimes a cadet will fall ill or die while in the well, and we have to get them out somehow."
William said, "Fall ill or die?"
"It's very rare. Now, off you go, time to dig!"
They lowered William and Simon and four other cadets into the wells.
Haverden said, "Lids!"
Eyes went wide and mouths dropped open among the cadets.
The veteran rangers ran to a nearby workshed. They produced iron lids the size of the wells with a notch in them for the air hoses. One of the cadets working the bellows asked, "What are you doing?"
Haverden said, "Just keep working the bellows, Cadet."
The veteran rangers secured the lids over the top of each well sealing the boys within. Haverden shouted, "Secure all weapons! Nobody carries a weapon but the men guarding these wells!"
Below, in the darkness, William waited for them to lower the tools, instead he watched as the light from above eclipsed and died out. He looked around, and his first thought was at least I have a candle. Then he opened the hood to see how much candle he had, barely a scant inch. The lantern had three spiked legs, so one could plant it in the mud, and William did so. Then he thought to himself, I'm tied to a rope, and I can climb the rope up and out, simple. He reached behind him and grabbed the slack of the rope. He started climbing then his hand reached oil, and he slid down the rope. He cursed and cursed. He sat down and started to wait, watching the light as it slowly flickered.
Simon faired slightly better, for they gave him a full length of candle. It took him longer to think to try climbing the rope, but he ran into oil as well. He lay down by the edge of the wall and tried to sleep, wondering all the while how long they would be keeping him down there, and why.
Time passed, two veteran rangers stood guard over each well wearing swords. Two boys worked the bellows at each well. No other weapons could be found in all of Raleg. As the Rangers ate dinner, one of the cadets from Simon and William's group approached Haverden and asked, "How long?"
Haverden didn't even look at the boy. "You'll learn that when they do."
It had been a few years since they had put anybody through the trial of the pit, so the cadets couldn't simply ask one of the older boys.
Through the night the guards changed, and the boys working the bellows changed. Some of the boys in the wells ranted and screamed at times, and one could hear their echoes from the top of the wells. Sometimes if the wind was right the sound carried to the barracks nearby.
At breakfast most of the compound ate in silence with all the younger cadets wanting to kn
ow and all the older rangers not wanting to discuss the matter. Haverden finished his breakfast and walked past the wells, all were quiet.
After lunch Haverden pulled aside three lieutenants, and they went to one of the locked storage sheds and returned with six bundles. Two of the bundles had green ribbons tied on them, and the other four had red ribbons tied to them. Haverden approached the wells and ordered lanterns brought. He inspected the candle in each one and took one out and cut it down to an inch and returned it to the lantern. The lantern with the short candle he sat on top of the well containing Prince William. Haverden said, "Lids!"
The guards standing by the wells grabbed the sides of the lids and slid them off the tops of the wells making a metal on rock grating sound. All the cadets watched as the lanterns and packages were lowered into the pits. The guards tugged a bit on the ropes attached to harnesses to wake the cadets going through the trial, so that they could catch the lantern and the package. The boys in the pits could be heard shouting to be let out, not from William's pit or Simon's pit. Swear words the likes of which many of the boys hadn't heard yet echoed out of William's pit. Simon's pit was dead quiet.
William reached up and grabbed at the lantern and the package, not wanting them to spill into the muddy floor of his private little hell. He planted the lantern into the ground and undid the wrapping of the package. The first thing he almost dropped was an apple. He took a bite without even a thought. Then he found a loaf of bread and smiled. Another apple, and he laughed with glee. A hunk of dried ham came out of the satchel. He grinned, for they had given him enough for a meal at least. Then he noticed two flasks in the bottom of the package. One was made of wood, and the words druid's wine were scratched on the outside. He smelled the other one, fresh water. He took a long drought of the druid's wine and felt it course through his veins.
Simon received the package with less glee. He didn't want food. He wanted out.
The lids were returned to their places, and Haverden looked over the confused cadets. He shouted, "Dismissed!"
They hadn't trained since they first sealed off the wells. The cadets were simply allowed to mill around.
For William and Simon, it was their first taste of druid's wine, and they drank it down. For the four cadets in the other wells, they had gotten two flasks as well, one marked "drink me first." It was their first taste of whiskey.
Dinner was eaten in silence once again. That night after dark a few of the cadets got up their courage and decided enough was enough. Their eldest, a boy named Marcus led the way, and they marched to the wells. One of the veterans on guard said simply, "Move along."
Marcus said, "No, let them go."
All the veterans on guard drew their blades and advanced on the party of cadets. The lead guard said, "Begone with you!"
Marcus started to approach the veteran. "You won't run me through. Come'on boys, let's get those lids off."
"You care to wager against me, boy?" The veteran guard laughed and pointed his sword dead on the cadet's heart. "You think your life's more important than the king's? You think our future king should fall prey to any half wit necromancer who wants to kill him? I'll run you through, and your family will be sent a letter saying you had a training accident. It happens almost every time we do this."
The cadet on Marcus's right whispered, "They have the only blades in all of Raleg."
"And for good reason," the veteran said. "Now go back to your quarters, or I'll report the lot of you!"
Marcus sighed and returned to his barracks.
At dawn as they assembled for breakfast, Marcus went to Haverden. Haverden spoke first, "You were out of barracks past dark, explain."
"You should let them out."
"I will when it's time and no sooner. Be glad you weren't picked by the Rogue Scouts or the king. Dismissed."
As the morning progressed, some of the Rangers got out bows and had mock competitions with each other. When the rangers and cadets broke for lunch, Haverden finished up his meal quickly and shouted, "When you're finished eating, assemble at the wells!"
The fighters started eating in earnest, and Haverden left the hall heading towards the wells. One by one, rangers and cadets assembled in rows. Haverden waited for the last of them to file into place. He shouted, "Lids!"
The veterans on guard duty moved to the wells and lifted the lids off of them. Haverden said, "Take the swords to the armory."
The veterans with swords headed for the armory. Once out of sight, Haverden said, "Lift them up! Get them out! Be careful, they'll come up swinging!"
Cadets ran to each rope and started to heave. The first boy to reach solid ground took a swing at the first cadet he could reach, even before the harness was off him, a veteran ranger cooed him, "It's ok. You're out. It's over…"
On reaching solid ground, William growled. "Get this god damn thing off me!"
Simon simply started to brush the dirt off himself with a look of cold steel in his eyes.
Haverden looked at the dirty boys from the pits. "There's hot food in the chow hall, then I suggest the lake, but you can go to the lake first if you like. They'll keep the food warm for you. We have soap for you."
William said, "Piece of shit."
"Your father lived through it," Haverden said. "We figured you would too. When you face a dread necromancer, think back to the hell you've just been through, and remember that if a necromancer kills you, you'll be in a worse place forever."
Simon snatched up a bar of the soap Haverden offered and started walking towards the lake. William sighed and joined him. The four that had been given whiskey needed food worse and went straight to the chow hall.
Haverden turned on the assembled rangers and cadets. "This is a secret part of the Codex, and you swore an oath to protect the Codex, and now that oath applies to what has happened over the last two days. When you encounter a dread necromancer, think back to your time in the well. It may shield your mind. Dismissed."
After that William and Simon found cadet life to be simple enough. Eat, sleep, and practice. Winter ended, and on Saturdays, the cadets would go out on horseback and hunt wild game. Their sergeants would escort them, and teach them tricks along the way, but the kill-shots always went to the cadets.
With the spring rains, sparring practice arrived, always with a ranked veteran pounding a cadet into gravel. Although some of the cadets fared well against a grown ranger. These cadets were told they graduated to the next level, and two fully-grown, veteran rangers would spar against them. Simon and William both faced two rangers on an almost daily basis. By the end of summer, all the boys fought against two rangers at a time.
As the leaves started to turn their myriad of colors, Simon and William ate wild boar that one of the Cadets bagged. William nudged Simon. "Don't you think it's about time?"
Simon grabbed up a bite of the wild boar and spoke with his mouth full of the juicy meat. "Time for what?"
"Time to see which of us is better."
Simon swallowed the roast pork and went for another bite. "Cadets aren't allowed to fight..."
"Come on, after everybody goes to sleep."
Simon shook his head back and forth. "Some of the older rangers don't sleep."
"Come on."
"No, they would catch us and kick me out. No."
"Fine," William said very quietly. "Just remember, we won't always be cadets, and I want a rematch."
"Fine by me. I'm sure soon they will have us facing three fighters at once."
"Haha, perhaps, perhaps."
Winter passed once again and their regiment drew border patrol on the Eastern front, the one facing Tercia. Reports surfaced of ogres crossing into Lynken's territories, marauding, torching farms, and kidnapping peasants. The Tercian diplomat denied it, of course. Still, the king stationed a few regiments of rangers on the Eastern border at any given time. Even though cadets always stayed out of the battle, Prince William and Simon hoped to see some action at the front. They spent the next year on the fr
ont, living in the wild, although they did have wagons and tents. While their regiment engaged ogres a half-dozen times, the cadets didn't see any of the action. The rangers would scout the ogres and then ambush, using bows and arrows to cut them down. It rarely evolved into a sword battle.
*
After three years in study, Hebron gave Juxta a scroll to copy, cautioning him not read it aloud. The scroll's title was ‘Cut's Metal' as near as Juxta could translate. It apparently enchanted edged weapons. It took a week for him to copy. Juxta asked why he was copying it.
"You owe a debt to a certain blacksmith." Hebron reached out and touched the boy's shoulder. "It's time you repaid him."
Juxta rolled up the scroll, and they made their way unannounced to the smithy.
The smith grinned wide on seeing the pair. "Master Hebron, to what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Juxta is here to repay his debt to you. Find a high quality sword for him to enchant."
The smith said, "Enchant?"
Hebron said, "We're going to add to your arsenal."
"He's already strong enough to enchant a blade? It seems like only yesterday he was robbing me blind every second Tuesday of the month."
Hebron laughed. "I think he can do it."
The smith went to a long chest, unlocked it, and brought out a sword. "This is ‘Shad-Ra'. It means serpent's silver. The blade is alloyed iron and silver. The hilt is woven iron and silver in serpentine coils. It's one of my finest works."
Juxta took the sword in one hand and started to read the scroll. He gathered power and poured it into the blade. The scroll started to burn from the top down. Juxta quickened his pace. The sword became like a magnet for mage-power feeding off of Juxta and draining him more than any spell he'd ever attempted before. He broke out in a sweat. The magic gripped him--he didn't think he could stop it if he tried. Finally he approached the end of the scroll one step ahead of the fire consuming it. With the sword in his right hand, he cut into his left palm with it, instinctively, for the power of the spell controlled his action. Blood dripped from his left hand onto the scroll before the last of it burned. He fell to the ground and lost consciousness.
Juxta, Magi Page 4