by M. L. Brown
Alas, the best laid schemes of mice and men go often askew. The butler met me at the door and said, “A young lady is here to see you, sir.”
6
LANCE ELIOT IS GIVEN BAD NEWS
MAIA STOOD AS I entered the room. “Lance,” she said. “I’m glad to see you.” A pause. “You look awful.”
“I feel awful.”
“Did you really join the Legion?”
“Not exactly,” I said, falling into a chair. “As long as I’m stuck here, I thought I might as well learn something useful.”
Maia burst into an apology. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you about the delay. I was nervous—I couldn’t bring myself to mention it—Lance, I’m so sorry I didn’t say anything.”
“It’s all right,” I said. “It’s like being on holiday. Except for the military training, which was my own mistake.”
We talked for a long time. Maia had been busy with school, in addition to practicing Vocomancy at a local academy for mages.
“Don’t you exhaust your magic when you practice?” I asked. “Shouldn’t you be storing it up to send me back to Terra?”
“There’s more to it than that. It takes hardly any magic to summon simple things, but complex things use up a good deal. Do you know how complex the human body is? Do you have any idea how many organs and veins and things are packed into that skin of yours?”
“I believe you,” I said, raising my hands in surrender. “Forget I asked.”
Maia and I parted after a pleasant evening. I finally had my meal and hot bath, then went to bed and slipped into a coma. The following morning, the butler pulled me back to the waking world by opening the windows and stripping the blankets from the bed. The autumn air swept over me like a wave of cold water, making me cough and splutter.
“Your breakfast, sir, as you requested,” said the butler. “It’s six of the clock. If you hurry, you will make it to the military headquarters before dawn.”
I bolted my breakfast, gulped my blackroot, resumed my coughing and spluttering, dressed in clean clothes and hurried to meet Aidan. As he had predicted, my third day of training was much less painful than the days before. I even dared to hope I might actually make it through alive.
Every time we passed the armory, I asked Aidan when he would let me use a weapon. He would only laugh and say, “When you’re ready, laddie, and not a moment sooner.”
I arrived at the military headquarters before dawn the next day and found the training room empty. Puzzled, I searched the building for my instructor. He was nowhere to be found. When I asked the secretary where he might be, she shrugged and said, “I think today is his day off.”
With Aidan gone and Maia busy with her studies, I fell back to the comforts of the pipe and the bottle. It was a long day. Needless to say, I felt rather worse for the wear at the end of it. When I found Aidan in the training room the morning after, I asked him where he had been.
“I was at the temple.”
“The temple at the top of the hill?”
“Aye, the same.”
“What were you doing there?”
“Listening to a priest read from the Book of El. What else would I be doing there? You’ve a head on your shoulders, laddie. Use it before asking daft questions.”
“A friend of mine mentioned the Book of El the other day. What is it?”
Aidan’s eye opened wide in surprise. “You don’t know about the Book of El? I didn’t think it was possible for anyone to be so ignorant.”
“Never mind that. What the deuce is the Book of El?”
“Sit down, laddie. The Book of El is the collection of writings given to the people of Rovenia by El Enthroned.”
“And who is El Enthroned?”
Aidan gaped at me like a bewildered Cyclops. “You’ve not heard of El? Exactly how ignorant are you? No, never mind. I don’t want to know. El is the World-maker. He fashioned Gea long ago and appointed twelve Guardians to keep it.”
“Guardians?”
“At the start of things—a very long time ago—El created twelve beings. I’m not sure what to call them.”
“Gods?”
“You could call them gods. Each was given dominion over something. The priests taught me a rhyme about them when I was a child. Let’s see if I can bring it to mind.”
He thought for a moment and began to speak softly.
“Twelve are there that keep the world:
Radiant Luxel, keeper of light;
Stern Tel, keeper of time;
Bright Tael, keeper of dreams;
Prudent Ella, keeper of wisdom;
Roving Yeli, keeper of sky;
Mighty Elesh, keeper of seas;
Strong Shelemat, keeper of earth;
Swift Bielya, keeper of rivers;
Vibrant Elek, keeper of plants;
Fierce Achel, keeper of fire;
Wild Zelaph, keeper of beasts;
Kindly Pelea, keeper of men.
And above all these, their Master:
El Enthroned.”
“Interesting,” I said.
Aidan’s eye narrowed to a slit. “What do you mean?” he rumbled.
“I think it’s interesting,” I repeated. “A synthesis of orthodox monotheism and elemental polytheism. Quite unlike anything I’ve ever heard of before.”
Well, that was a mistake. Aidan sprang to his feet and towered over me, fire in his eye. “You think it’s interesting, do you?” he roared. “El Enthroned, the twelve sacred Guardians—interesting? What’s the matter with you?”
It took him several minutes to calm down. I apologized, assured him I had meant no disrespect and made a mental note never to discuss religion with my instructor again.
My sessions with Aidan became steadily less difficult. If Tamu hadn’t insisted on serving such extravagant meals night after night, I think I would have become quite fit. My host and I shared many conversations over the dinner table. I came to feel rather fond of the old chap. He continued to provide my weekly allowance, which I spent on drink and tobacco. I received much more money than I needed and accumulated a tidy sum as the days went by.
Kana came to the house once or twice to inquire after my wellbeing. He admitted to feeling pleasantly surprised at my progress under Aidan and encouraged me to continue my training after my return to Terra. I didn’t think it likely (Oxford is not renowned for its martial artists), but assured him I would do my best. Maia visited regularly. We became patrons of the nearest bakery, where we talked about politics, literature, culture, personal experiences—most everything, really.
I learned that Maia’s parents lived in a town called Riku, which lay about twenty-five leagues northeast of Faurum. (Leagues, by the way, were the common measure of distance in Rovenia.) Maia had an older brother named Alexander who served the Resistance. The last time she had heard from him, his unit had been commissioned to guard the southern border.
I told her about my childhood in California, and how I moved with my parents to Britain when I was fourteen. They bought a house in Reading and enrolled me in a secondary school. I eventually became a student in Oxford, where I acquired a reputation as a skilled player of cards and darts.
Maia found my life interesting, and I was fascinated by her accounts of the people and places of Gea. Our mutual curiosity deepened slowly into friendship. Thus it was with a stab of pity that I returned to the house one day to find her in tears.
Aidan had spent the day teaching me defensive technique, and my mind buzzed with evasive forms and blocks as I entered the house. My thoughts were dispersed by the familiar sound of the butler’s cough.
“What is it, Roddy?” I inquired.
“The young lady is waiting to see you, sir,” he said quietly. His eyes were sad beneath their bushy brows. “She is waiting on the west terrace.”
I found Maia sitting upon the terrace, clasping her knees to her bosom and watching the sun set. Although she didn’t make a sound, her body shook with crying.
&nb
sp; “Maia?”
She didn’t respond.
I crossed the terrace and sat next to her. We didn’t speak for a long time. Then she put her head on my shoulder and began to sob.
I like to think I have a few redeeming qualities, but sympathy is not one of them. I’m about as sensitive as a rhinoceros. Even so, I sometimes manage to do something right. I did the right thing that evening. I said nothing, put an arm round Maia and let her cry.
At last she raised her face from my shoulder (which was considerably dampened) and said, “Sorry about that.”
“Don’t mention it. What happened?”
Alexander, her legionary brother, was dead. Nomen had overrun his camp, killing him and many others before they could defend themselves. A messenger had taken the sad news to Maia’s parents in Riku, and she had just received a letter from them. Alexander’s life was cut short and his body was lost; his family could not even give him the honor of a decent burial.
“I’m sorry,” I said. My words fell utterly flat. “Is there anything I can do?”
“There is,” said Maia. “I want to see my parents, but I can’t leave the city.”
“Why not?”
“You’re here.”
“What?”
“Kana won’t let me leave till I’ve sent you safely back to Terra. He says we can’t take the chance of something happening to me. If it did, you’d be stuck here forever.”
“So what can I do?”
“I begged Kana to let me see my parents. He agreed, but only if you give me your permission.”
I’m ashamed to confess I had to think about it.
After a moment I asked, “Would you be safe?” My concern was not for Maia’s wellbeing, but my return to Oxford. Dash it all, writing this story is harder than I thought it would be. Before you knew me, my friend, I was a git.
“I’m sure I’d be safe,” she replied. “The Nomen have never even come close to Faurum or Riku, and there are defenses between us and them. I’d be gone only about two weeks, and when I returned I’d have enough magic to send you back to Terra.”
My friend, do you remember what I said earlier about the schemes of mice and men?
I told Maia she had my permission to go to Riku. She gave me a hug (soaking my other shoulder) and ran into the house, leaving me alone with the sunset and my own gloomy thoughts. Kana visited that evening to thank me for my gallantry toward Maia. The word gallantry reminded me of chivalrous heroes, and the thought lifted my heart a little.
Six days later I came to the end of a session with Aidan. “The sun is starting to go down,” I told him. “I’d best be going. See you tomorrow.”
“Not so fast, laddie. I’ve something in mind for you. A test of sorts.”
I gulped. Any test devised by Aidan probably involved pain. My instructor strode into the corridor and roared, “Tarkka, I need you!”
Tarkka was quick to answer the summons. Grinning like a shark, Aidan came back into the room and said, “I’ve asked the Corporal to have a bout with you, laddie. I’d like to see how well you fare against an active legionary.”
A corner of Tarkka’s mouth turned up. “I’m ready,” he said.
“Fight!” bellowed Aidan.
As much as I would like to give a blow-by-blow account of the fight, I can hardly remember it. I was too focused on Tarkka to pay much attention to details. We exchanged blows for a couple of minutes, striking and counterstriking and blocking. At length I faltered, and he struck me in the breastbone with the heel of his hand. I staggered backward and collided with the wall.
As he sprang toward me, I pushed myself off the wall and kicked with both feet. He stumbled, clutching his stomach. I leapt at him to deliver the final blow—connected with his fist in midair—and fell to the floor with a groan. He stood over me, no longer wearing his half-smile. If anything, he looked slightly worried.
“He’s fine,” said Aidan, clapping his hands. “Well fought, both of you. Tarkka, you can go. Thanks for your help.”
As I looked up at Tarkka, he did something odd: he stretched out his hand, like a gladiator hailing Caesar, and then walked away. It was the last time I ever saw him. When I think of him, the first image to come to my mind is that of him standing with his hand outstretched.
“What was that about?” I asked.
“A salute,” replied my instructor. “His way of acknowledging a fine bout, and probably the only compliment you’ll ever get from that stone-faced old gargoyle. Now to business.”
“Business?”
“I said you’d get a weapon when you were ready for one. You fought decently, laddie, and you’ve earned it.”
My friend, I believe there is still a bit of boyish enthusiasm tucked away in the most serious and somber of men. Well, maybe not the Skeleton. The most serious and somber of men except for the Skeleton. I know there’s a bit of boyish enthusiasm tucked away in me, for I can’t resist playing with sharp objects. Whether a sword or a letter opener, I have a fascination for blades of any kind.
I had just picked up a glittering katana from the armory floor when Aidan said, “Put it down. You’ll be using this.”
He handed me a staff.
I was appalled. “You want me to use a stick?!”
“Listen here, laddie. I’ve been watching you, and I don’t think you’ve the skill to be a legionary. You’ve the skill to be a scout.”
“How the deuce have I not got the skill to be a legionary?”
“You’re not fast enough. You’re none too agile, either, and you’re not aggressive.”
“What do you mean, not aggressive? Didn’t you just see me belt Tarkka in the stomach?”
“I saw you defend yourself instead of attacking, striking only when your enemy had dropped his guard. Tarkka is a legionary. Did you notice how he began attacking the moment the fight began, trying to wear you down?”
“So I’m not good enough to be a legionary,” I concluded, dejected.
“That’s not what I said,” growled my instructor. “You were aware of your surroundings. I’ve seen fighters use clever tricks before, yet even I was surprised when you launched yourself off the wall and hit him with your feet. That was resourceful! It’s not that I think you wouldn’t make a good legionary, laddie. It’s that I think you’d make a blasted good scout.”
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll take the dratted stick.”
The dratted stick was actually quite formidable. It was made of two hollowed steel rods that could be fitted together into a staff or wielded individually like a pair of clubs. I assembled the staff. “Mind how you use it,” said Aidan. “Make a mistake and you may have a broken bone to show for it. Here, these are for you.”
I had been the target of many airborne objects during our sessions, so I had no difficulty in catching the small metal case he flung in my direction. It contained about twenty shuriken. “The case is rather unwieldy,” I said. “Couldn’t you have put them in a bag?”
“They lose their edge when they’re jumbled together in a bag. That and they tend to slice their way out at odd moments. I knew a fellow who kept shuriken in his pocket like coins, till one cut open his leg. It took two medics to stop the bleeding.”
“I get the idea,” I said. “I’ll keep the case. Now I think I’ll be going.”
My instructor thumped me on the back, sending me staggering. “Take care of yourself, laddie. It’s a dangerous world out there.”
“It can’t be any more dangerous than it is here with you. Goodnight.”
Tamu himself met me at the door to his house. He seemed troubled. “Master Eliot,” he said, “Kana is waiting for you in the study.”
I found Kana staring out the window with his hands clasped behind his back. A pot of tea and two cups stood upon the table. “Is something wrong?” I asked.
“Ah, you have arrived. Please sit down. I have unfortunate news for you.”
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
Kana sighed. “Lance Eliot, your i
nstructor has told me how strong you have grown in these few weeks. I believe you are strong enough for the blunt truth, and I make no effort to soften it. The Nomen are marching upon Faurum.”
My heart sank until it could sink no lower. “Are we in danger?”
To my great relief, Kana laughed. “Certainly not. This city has never been taken, and it has been besieged by far more powerful enemies than this ragged band of Nomen.” His laughter died. “No, there is another problem. They will certainly lay siege to the city. No one will be able to pass in or out of Faurum for weeks, or perhaps months.”
I saw his point. “Maia won’t be able to enter the city. I won’t be able to leave it. I’m stuck. Drat it, I’m stuck in Rovenia!”
“There is another option.”
“What?”
“You could leave the city immediately and travel to Riku with an escort.”
Questions tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them. “Would it be safe? How far is Riku? Who would be my escort?”
“It would be safe, I think. Our scouts report the enemy to be seventeen or eighteen leagues to the south. It will be at least three days before they arrive in force. You would be traveling northeast, away from the Nomen. Riku is about twenty-five leagues away. If you took hunds, you would arrive within five days. As for your escort, I have commissioned a legionary whose skill is legendary. He would protect you until your return to Terra.”
Kana bowed and added, “All along we have been guilty of abducting you, Lance Eliot. Now we must endanger your life. Please forgive us. If ever the Resistance can atone for its error, it shall be done.”
“Never mind that,” I exclaimed. “When do I leave?”
“You leave now. Can you find your way to the East Gate?”
“Yes.”
“Pack your things and go there. Your escort will meet you with hunds. Do you understand?”
I nodded. Kana drank his tea and set down his cup. “You have astounded me,” he said, smiling. “You have not faltered, though beset with trials. I pray for your safe return to Terra. May El himself go with you.”