I set the small, hammer-shaped, instrument with a string and ball hanging off the end down, and looked up at him. “Have you done all these tests?” I asked.
His hands were on his hips. He wore an outfit similar to mine, except that his jerkin was buttoned up to his neck. “Of course,” he said.
“Um… which weapon do you use?” I asked. “A sword?” I noticed he still carried one in his belt
His mouth tipped to a smile. “No, this is used for training. I make it a habit never to tell my trainees what I fight with, so as not to influence them. If we ever fight in battle together, you’ll see…. But you should just concentrate on your training knife. For now it is the only weapon you know. If you can learn to defend and injure with something so small and weak, you’ll find you have the skill and strength you need when you’re given a weapon.”
I very carefully nodded.
He matched it, then walked to the edge of the platform where a line was chalked into the ground perpendicular to the circle. “We’ll start with testing your speed. If you would, set yourself up on the line.”
I did as he requested. Little did I know that it was just the beginning of the longest race for improvement I’d ever driven myself through.
*
CYRIC:
*
I stood on the platform where I’d once fought Seraphastus, looking out over the recruits that I’d soon begin training under Scanth’s division. I wasn’t a sergeant or anything yet—usually only they were responsible for testing the new citizens that were being considered for the Akadian army (the process I had once been put through) but a recently high number of refugees had given me the opportunity. I probably would not have done it on my own, but when Lox had suggested I take the position, it had been a no-brainer.
He was here watching me today. It was my first day, and I was much more attentive to him on the upper viewing deck than the task ahead of me. I hadn’t been introduced to any of my recruits yet.
I flexed my fingers and paced unintentionally until one of the other trainers sent them over. It was like looking in a mirror… only from the past. Their faces were a mask of uncertainty and exhaustion. Their bodies were bright red with sunburns, unless they had dark skin, which many did. They wore matching gear and had all been freshly shaven, face and head. I’d now realized this was a way to tell the new recruits from the veterans, because my hair had already grown out a few inches.
“Alright,” I said, clearing my throat. “I’m going to be teaching you all hand-to-hand combat today. Grab a strap from that pile there and wrap it around your fingers. Er… knuckles.”
When they reached for the straps of cloth, but seemed to have trouble figuring out exactly what to do with them, I jumped down from the platform and picked up a pair myself.
“Like this,” I said, wrapping it around as I had now grown very accustomed to doing. I had a tan-line where they stopped.
The recruits began to do the same. I noticed they weren’t shaking as much as they had been before. I glanced around to see if they’d all succeeded. One young man was having trouble, he couldn’t have been more than fifteen. I helped him finish his off. He thanked me uncomfortably, and then I remembered Lox, watching from up above. I didn’t look his way, but I straightened my features and remounted the platform.
“Have any of you ever fought hand-to-hand before?” I asked, echoing the words of my late teacher, Carklay. I wouldn’t have the help of Seraphastus like he had, but I was sort of grateful for that.
When none of them raised their hands, I went on. “I imagine they don’t have hand fighting in your countries?” I asked. Their expressions of confusion confirmed this. “Where are you all from?”
It took a while, but once two of them replied they were from Carba, the others all named their countries.
“When I came here, I’d never done it before either,” I said. “But you know…it’s a really useful fighting technique. And there’s nothing like it once you become great.”
“I don’t want to attack another man bare-fisted,” cried one of the Zutian recruits. “It is not strong. It is a sign of weakness.”
I frowned skeptically. I was about to proceed with an argument, when I heard a cough above me. I glanced up to Lox. He hadn’t been the one to cough—it was the man beside him—but he wasn’t smiling. There were a few others up there, all of them silent and watching me. Lox’s eyes were dark, and though guarded, full of their silent urging to be pleased.
I looked back at the recruits, my face a little hot, my throat tight.
“Weak, hunh?” I said, directing my comment to the man who had spoken out. “I’ll take you as the first volunteer then. Come stand up here.”
He hesitated.
“There’re stocks to be sent to if you prefer,” I threatened. “I can find someone else to take your place.”
The man obeyed without pausing this time, though he was slow to mount the platform. He was obviously weak from training.
“Go ahead and take your bands off,” I instructed, then I went over to the side of the platform and picked out a sword. I walked back and threw it to the recruit. “Use that to defend yourself,” I said, “Or attack me if you can.”
I stopped in front of him and held my hands up, turning to the other recruits. “When you fight, you keep your fists up, in front of your face, at all times. This will be the first and most important lesson that you learn. If you don’t…” I turned back to the volunteer and nodded to him. I started to shift my hands a little.
He tested the sword reluctantly, then he held it out. Deep anger slowly grew across his features; he raised his blade above me—
But before he could get it down, I punched him square across the jaw. The sword clashed to the ground and he staggered back.
I turned to the crowd.
“So that’s why you keep your arms up,” I said. “Next, you’ll need to learn to throw a strong punch. Keep your elbows tight, and don’t extend your arm all the way.”
The recruits were all a little wide-eyed.
I picked the sword up off the ground and handed it back to volunteer. He wiped the blood off his lip, grounded his feet on the platform and took it from me. The moment he raised it, I nodded and said. “Remember to block this time.”
“I’ll show you blocking—”
Before he could strike me, I’d punched him twice in the face, then once with a hook from the side. He dropped to the ground. The crowd gave a moan. I glanced above me, where the men beside Lox wore pained yet entertained expressions. Lox was smiling.
“That’s called a hook,” I said, “and it’s just another reason you need to block your face.”
The volunteer I’d knocked down pushed himself up to a standing position. He already had a black eye. His chest rose as he glared at me.
I laughed. “Want to try again?” I asked.
I picked his sword up off the ground and held it out to him. He batted it away. I tossed it.
“So much for hand-to-hand being weak, aye?” I asked.
He snarled and raised his hands. He tried immediately to punch at me. I ducked it, and then I brought fist up hard into his stomach. My smile was gone as I swung at his face again. He tried to block it, but I pushed right past his arm. I hit him a dozen times, until he was staggering against the wall, and then I brought my knee up into his stomach. He fell to the ground, and didn’t get back up.
I stared at him a moment, my chest rising up and down.
Then I turned around, wiping the sweat from my forehead. I could hear the men beside Lox laughing and clapping. I didn’t have to look to know he was happy. I pressed my fists together as I stood before the recruits. “Who’s next?”
~ ~ ~
CHAPTER FOUR
ELLIA:
*
I bounded over the fences set in front of me. There were four in a row, all of equal size. I got past three and tripped on the third.
“Keep going,” Lucian instructed.
I pu
shed myself up off the ground, and ran to the next trial. There were five knives laid out, and a spinning wheel stuck with plums a dozen yards ahead of me. I picked up the first knife and swung it deftly. It hit one of the plums on the side. My next throw landed right in the middle.
“Faster,” said Lucian.
I threw the next two in a rush, but successfully. The last I missed completely.
As I turned to Lucian, I tried not to be distracted by the four first order Warriors who had come to watch my performance, Amalia included. Minstrel and Estrid were also there, but they had seen me do this enough times not to take much notice.
“Name this plant,” said Lucian. “It grows near water and can be used to slow poison.”
“Rulsar,” I shouted, tapping my hand impatiently against my leg.
“Go,” he said nodding behind me.
I ran for the wall on the other side of the platform. I mounted it easily, only slipping twice, then jumped, as I was meant to, to the tower of wood that stood beside it. I knocked my chin as I landed, but got a good handle with my hands and climbed the rest of the tower. There were two types of fruit up there. A purple, pear-shaped one with bright spots, and an orange crescent-shaped one with spikes. I knew if I picked the wrong one it would make me immediately ill—I’d experienced it—but today I thought I was safe. I stuffed the orange one in my mouth, then turned and dove off the platform, landing in a roll to keep myself from injury, and coming up right beside an instrument. It was shaped like a hammer and about the size of my hand.
A little dizzy, I picked it up and stood. I unrolled the string with a ball attached to it. There was a hole inside this ball, and the object was to the land the ball through the three spires on the hammer end of the instrument. I did the first and easiest two spires without trouble, but failed the third repeatedly. It required calm concentration and control and right now I was shaking.
“You’re forgetting something,” said Lucian. He’d been trailing with his timer nearby.
I cursed myself, then bent my legs a little—one of the most important parts of maintaining enough control to pull off the trick, as it absorbed the energy of the ball and kept it from bouncing back up. I did it my first try this time, then ran to the next obstacle. Minstrel cheered for me as I picked up the bow. I had the arrow notched, pulled back, and aimed at the target ahead.
“Not yet,” said Lucian. “What’s the name of the river that runs past the Dinion crag?”
“Evros,” I answered, letting loose my arrow. It struck the target. I ran to the next target with my bow and notched an arrow again.
“Name the cove closest to the east coast.”
“Nortar.”
“No.”
I cursed. “Aegi,” I tried.
He nodded. I shot again.
We repeated the process until I had hit all of the targets, then I swung around to face the Lucian. I forgot where I was going next. One look at the two soldiers approaching the middle of the platform with swords in hand reminded me though. I grabbed the sword set out on the floor for me, then faced them. We began to carefully circle each other. Before long I noticed one going in the opposite direction—so that they would soon surround me.
“What is the name of the first Warrior of Cirali?” Lucian asked.
Too easy. “Marius Denathar,” I answered. I never had a hard time remembering this one because it was my trainer’s last name as well, being that he and Amalia were direct descendants.
“And his chimera?”
The warrior to my right lunged at me. I brought my sword up, but then the other warrior lunged as well. I was too distracted by Lucian’s question to think consciously. Without meaning to, I slid my blade up the nearest warrior’s sword, wrapped my hand around his wrist, spun, and disarmed him, retrieving his sword for myself in the process. I aimed it up in time to meet the second warrior’s neck.
“Antalya,” I answered. My breath was shaking. My other sword was at the first warrior’s stomach. They looked surprised, probably because it usually took me twice as long to beat them—if I even could. If I wasn’t mistaken, even Lucian sounded surprised when he spoke. “Correct,” he said.
But instead of moving on as I should have, my eyes found Amalia in the crowd. It was Tobias’s sword trick I had just used, and from her expression, she recognized it. I tried to fill my features with apology.
Lucian’s voice broke through the exchange. “What are you doing? Go on,” he said.
I shook my head clear, then dropped both the swords. I started running towards the end of the platform that looked out onto the ocean. This was the final part of the course and my least favorite. I decided it made no sense to slow down now, and only increased my speed as I ran for the hole in the railing.
The moment in the air was ecstasy, but falling was not. I pressed my palms together into an arrow and straightened my body as best as I could in time to dive into the ocean water. I plunged beneath the surface—far past the waves—and came up floating. My whole body was hot and rushing, but the cool water felt great. I swayed with the tide as I looked up at the platform and waited for Lucian to appear.
When he did, he cupped both of hands around his mouth and shouted down to me. “You’re supposed to stop before you jump,” he shouted. “How do you expect to get a running start on your chimera?”
I treaded distractedly as I recalled what the final piece of the course was for. Often it was required to jump off your chimera mid-flight, as a quick arrival strategy or in case the chimera was tiring. I didn’t curse myself this time.
“That’s all you have to say?” I shouted back.
I wasn’t sure he heard me. He stayed perfectly still.
“Really? Did you see what I just did?” I shouted louder.
This time he grew a smile, and I knew he had heard me the first time. He waved for me to come back up and started to walk away.
“Lucian!” I called. “Did you see? Come on.”
He tossed a hand back as he disappeared completely. I smiled and turned around to face the ocean. I dunked my head under the water and swam for a while before getting out.
#
Dinner that night was held on the platform around a large fire. It was a periodical celebration which all the Warriors of Cirali attended. Because I was training I was allowed, and because of Minstrel and Estrid’s unspecified position, they came as well. Having just changed out of my training clothes, I’d donned a simple cream robe. Dresses were still what I was most comfortable in. My hair was wet but pulled back and braided.
I received a few kind greetings as I entered the platform. Some of the first order Warriors spoke to me about my progress, Elminster and Lodan among them. Alek, Tory, and Baraduce formed a tight circle, their expressions severe, their chimera all not an arms-length from them. I hoped this meant that they were discussing serious business about Akadia. Many of the third and second order Warriors weren’t present at all; this, along with the fact that the skies were unusually clear of chimera, may have indicated that they were away on business.
I waved to Minstrel as I crossed the platform. He was busy playing his lyre alongside one of the resident minstrels of Yanartas. Some Cirali Warriors had joined in as accompaniment. A crowd danced before them.
I saw Estrid talking to one of the Warriors. She was wearing the Warrior’s training garb, the same type I wore to practice. This was due to the fact that she’d been joining in with many of my training sessions lately.
I waved at her and she smiled back, but I walked on to my real destination.
I didn’t realize that Lucian was with Amalia until I was already standing before them. I was sorry to interrupt the mother/son exchange, though they both looked relieved to see me.
“Good evening,” I said. They replied greetings in return. “How are you both enjoying the party?” I asked.
They glanced around blankly for a moment, each waiting for the other. Amalia tightened her grip on the glass in her hand. Finally Lucian spoke.
<
br /> “We were just talking about the possible origins of the current song,” he said. He nodded to the musicians. “I’ve never heard anything like it, but... my… um, Lady Amalia says that she’s heard something similar from a Birmian minstrel.”
Amalia swallowed uncomfortably, but nodded.
“It does sound Birmian,” I agreed. “I’ve heard one once before as well.”
I smiled. Lucian tried to match it, but when he saw that Amalia wasn’t, he cleared his throat. “Well… I have business to attend to before the evening’s out. If I come back, would you like something to eat or drink?” He directed the question to Amalia.
“More wine,” she answered, tipping her glass. Her voice was weak; she sounded like a child.
Lucian nodded, then he waved goodbye and disappeared beyond the dancers.
Both Amalia and I watched him go. “He won’t be back with the drink,” she said. “We never talk long before he leaves. I don’t blame him; I admit that I’m not very good company.” I looked back at her; she had already turned away from him.
“I’m sure it’s not you,” I argued. “He’s just very busy.”
“Yes, well, what can I expect? He was raised to be a Warrior.”
“He’s a very good teacher,” I agreed. Then I frowned. The space between us grew quiet. “Amalia, I—”
“Are you going to apologize for the sword-fight earlier?” she interrupted. Her silver eyes were still turned away from me. “I must confess, I was surprised. I’d thought it was something that I would never see again. He used to win so many duels with it… but then he never would teach it to anyone.” Her lips tugged at the corners. “I should have known then that he held doubts about Akadia.”
“I’m certain that he loved Akadia, though,” I said. “He told me that he did. He told me how beautiful it once was.”
“Once was…,” she repeated. Her lips quivered; she looked as if she might cry. “I find I’m very tired of waiting for things that once were to return.”
It took me a moment to realize that her gaze was focused hard in one place. I looked and saw that she was watching one of the Warriors. He was sitting cross-legged next to his chimera, feeding it bits of meat and smiling. If chimera’s expressions could be named, I would have said the chimera were smiling too. I looked back at Amalia, but she was still watching them.
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