Competitions

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Competitions Page 32

by Sharon Green


  Vallant turned to see a stranger waiting for him. It was such a relief to know he could leave that he wouldn’t have cared who waited for him, but he couldn’t simply rush out. He’d gotten support when he needed it most, and now it was time to return the favor. So he turned to look at Holter, gave the man a thumbs-up sign to show his own support, and only then left that place of torture.

  Somehow Vallant kept himself from running, so it was forever before he got outside. He moved a number of steps beyond the entrance and stood there with his eyes closed, simply breathing. His insides still shuddered and twisted with what he’d gone through, but for the moment it was all over with.

  “Are you all right, sir?” a voice asked, and Vallant opened his eyes to see the man who was supposed to accompany him. “Do you want me to call someone?”

  “Once we get to an empty table, you can call a servant if you like,” Vallant answered, running a weary hand through his hair. “I’m badly in need of a cup of tea, and maybe even a bite to eat.”

  “I’ll do that, sir,” the man agreed, then began to lead him away from the building again. “Someone is already sending for your coach, and once it gets here you’ll be able to return to your residence for some rest.”

  Vallant was glad to hear that, and even more glad to sit down at an empty table. There were still quite a few people milling around the area, although most of the crowd had gone to watch the competition. Vallant ignored the milling few, ordered his tea and a sandwich when the servant hurried over, then sat back to regather his physical strength.

  No more than two or three minutes could have passed in peace and quiet before there were suddenly people stopping at Vallant’s table. His first urge was to ignore them, but curiosity got the better of him and he glanced their way—only to stop and stare disbelievingly.

  “Well, it’s certainly about time,” Mirra huffed, obviously insulted. “Did you see that, Daddy? He deliberately refused to look at us even though he surely knew we were here.”

  “You can’t really blame him, child,” Mirra’s father, Dom Agran, said with a scowl of disapproval. “The boy knows how dishonorably he’s behavin’, so he’s ashamed. That shows there’s some hope for ’im.”

  “If it were me, Mirra, I’d never speak to him again,” Mirra’s mother put in with a sniff. “It’s his good fortune that you still want him, but you’ll have to put in a terrible amount of work changin’ him into somebody decent. Are you sure you want to do that much work?”

  “Oh, it won’t be all that hard, Momma,” Mirra returned with a laugh, moving her body back and forth rather slowly while she stared at Vallant. “He’s real easy to handle at home, and once I get him back there I’ll never let him wander away again.”

  “Now, see here, young man,” Dom Agran began after clearing his throat for attention. “My daughter agreed to give you her hand in marriage, and now refuses to retract that agreement even though you’ve apparently changed your mind. That means you must honor your commitment, otherwise I’ll be forced to—”

  “That’s enough!” Vallant said sharply, cutting the fool off in mid sentence. “I don’t know who let you people in here, but now that I’m over my shock at your intrusion, I might as well give you some hard truths. I never asked your daughter to marry me, we simply discussed the possibility. If she told you anythin’ else, she’s lyin’ the way she usually does.”

  “How dare you!” Dama Agran gasped in outrage, but Vallant refused to let her get started on an hour-long tirade.

  “Be quiet!” he ordered sternly, getting to his feet. “If you people hadn’t indulged the girl so shamelessly while she was growin’ up, none of us would have this bother now. I’ve never been engaged to your daughter, I say, and wouldn’t have her to wife even if she were the only available woman in the world. Now take yourselves out of here before I ask somebody to have you put out.”

  Mirra stood sulking furiously while her father sputtered and her mother babbled. They might have stayed like that forever if Vallant’s “companion” hadn’t stepped forward with a scowl of his own. Dom Agran ended his sputtering, and glared at Vallant.

  “There’s nothin’ wrong with a man dedicatin’ his life to givin’ his wife and daughter everythin’ their hearts desire,” the man stated flatly. “And keepin’ hurt from them, which you made me miss out on today. You haven’t heard the last of this, Ro, my word on that.”

  With that he took the women’s arms and marched away, making no effort to look back. Vallant had no idea how they’d found him, but he sat down again silently cursing whatever method they’d used. They’d made the expected scene, but at least it hadn’t been at the residence, where it would have upset—

  Vallant found himself cursing again, only this time out loud in a mutter. Didn’t he have enough problems to face, without needing the addition of all these women? No other man he knew could walk away from girl after girl and still be haunted by them in one way or another. What had made him so lucky…?

  Well, lucky or not, he’d sworn off all of them. And he would keep his word, he would!

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  I exchanged good wishes with Jovvi and left the coach, feeling myself slip into the oddest frame of mind. For the first time I was worried about not failing a test rather than not passing it, and even that worry was muted by the decision I struggled with. Jovvi had been absolutely right to say that I had to decide what I really wanted from Vallant Ro before I tried to do anything about his coldness. His own intentions had been perfectly clear, and the idea still frightened me. Were all men so eager to have something permanent? Why couldn’t they be satisfied with more casual relationships?

  I sighed over that unanswerable question as I walked through the entrance, then stopped short only a pair of steps later. There were so many people here today, a lot more than I’d expected for what was really a very unimportant competition. And so many of them held themselves the way nobles do…

  “So … you’re here,” a strangely tentative voice said, and I turned my head to see that Soonen had come up on my right. “Do you want to have a cup of tea first, or would you prefer to go straight to the competitions building?”

  This was a Soonen I hadn’t seen before, one who had lost most of her arrogance and attitude. Now she seemed rather sullenly frightened, as though she really wanted to sneer at me again but didn’t dare. It looked like yesterday’s struggle with her and Gerdol had brought me more benefits than just a master’s bracelet.

  “Thank you, but I don’t need a cup of tea,” I responded politely but with no warmth at all. I didn’t like Soonen, and probably never would. “Let’s simply go on into the building.”

  She nodded jerkily, as though wishing she might say something pointed, then just turned and began to lead the way through the crowd. I moved along right behind her, letting her larger size get us through more easily, and wished I hadn’t lied about the tea. I did need to sit down over a cup for a while, to decide what I would do if I happened to be called to perform first. Without knowing what the others were capable of, how would I know what I should do?

  And then a thought suddenly came, strangely enough from something my mother had taught my sisters and me. Once, when we were still rather young, my sisters and I had been laughing over how stupid one of the boys at school was. Our mother heard what we were saying, and immediately stepped in to correct us.

  “Girls, I never want to hear you saying something like this again!” she’d lectured severely. “That boy happens to be the eldest son of a very wealthy man, but that’s beside the point. What you must remember is that no man is to be belittled, as one day he may end up as your husband. Until that time you will show as little intelligence yourselves in the presence of others as you can possibly get away with. Just enough to show that you’re capable of managing a large household, and not a smidgen more!”

  Back then I’d hated the idea of needing to pretend to be a moron just to soothe the ego of some male idiot, but right now the idea was e
xactly what I needed. I would use just enough strength to do whatever was required, and show not a smidgen more. I laughed shortly to myself, realizing that this was the first time I’d really been able to use something my mother had taught me.

  It didn’t take long to reach the white resin building the competition would be held in, but a large group of people was there ahead of us and moving inside rather slowly. Soonen seemed to be trying to decide whether or not to push ahead through them, but I knew she’d decide not to. Their clothes and bearing showed them to be of the nobility, and she wasn’t likely to chance offending one of them.

  “We’ll be able to get inside in a moment, after they clear out of the way,” she said after her hesitation, making the decision I’d expected. Then she turned to look directly at me. “Some people get really nervous during a competition, with so many important people watching. They try to control the nervousness but can’t, and end up embarrassing themselves.”

  “I can see how that could happen,” I granted her in the most neutral tone I was able to produce, beginning to boil on the inside. Soonen was afraid to insult me directly again, so she’d taken the opportunity to try planting seeds of doubt. I’d remember what she’d said about being nervous and then I’d be nervous, and after that I’d lose the competition. Well, I had news for her…!

  The furious anger which had been building inside me suddenly collapsed, having discovered there was nothing for it to stand on. Soonen had just provided me with the best reason in the world for not winning the competition, and I almost felt like hugging her. Almost. The anger she usually produced in me was gone, but I still didn’t like her.

  The group of people took their time moving through the doorway, but eventually it was our turn to go inside. I did feel somewhat uncomfortable with so many people around who would soon be watching me, but thinking of them all as enemies helped quite a bit. That new idea frightened me instead, but being frightened was something I’d long ago gotten used to.

  The inside of the building was one large, open floor, with lanterns on the walls which made it brightly lit. In the center of the floor was what looked to be a wide half circle of a wall made of clear resin. In front of that half circle were forms covered over with sheets, six of them arranged into a circle of their own. To the right of that arrangement was a double row of chairs with people in most of them, a man standing beside the chairs. He reminded me of Gerdol, although he wasn’t, and Soonen led me right up to him.

  “Dama Domon, this is Adept Odrin,” she said, her tone cold rather than polite. “Adept Odrin is in charge of the competition, and will tell you what to do next.”

  “Thank you, Sooner, you may run along now,” the heavy man said without looking at her, obviously unaware of the way he’d mispronounced her name. “I’m delighted that you’re here, my dear, as the wait was—uh—definitely worth it.”

  Odrin had stumbled over his attempted compliment, and that seemed to be because of something bothering him. His hands looked to be trembling with nervousness, there were beads of sweat on his forehead, and he’d only been paying half attention to what he’d said to me.

  “I’m glad to be here,” I murmured in answer, wondering if he’d hear me. “Is there anything in particular that I’m supposed to do now?”

  “You’ll be taking a seat with the rest of our participants in a moment, but first there are one or two things I must tell you,” he said, and I couldn’t decide if he were answering me or simply speaking a prepared speech. “You’ll each be summoned one at a time to perform, and once you’re finished you’ll be escorted outside. You may refresh yourself while your coach is being summoned, and then you will return to your residence. When the competition is over a winner will be declared, and if that’s you, a messenger will be sent with the notification and your gold. If you haven’t any questions, you may now take your seat.”

  I parted my lips to ask what the competition would entail, but he’d already started away from me. Obviously, asking any questions would be a waste of breath, so I went to the chairs and sat in one of the empty ones.

  A couple of minutes later a girl came and took the last remaining empty chair, and I couldn’t help noticing how annoyed she looked. Realizing that she’d probably just gone through the same thing that I had with Odrin, I sympathized. The man was a moron, but apparently a lot of people supported my mother’s rule about male morons.

  “My lords and ladies, if I might have your attention,” I just barely heard someone say in much too low a voice. I turned my head to discover that the someone was Odrin, now standing directly in front of the exercise arrangement. He seemed to be trying to get things started, but no one more than four feet away could have heard him.

  Luckily for him, though, a big man of obvious importance stood within that four foot distance, and he projected in a deep voice, “Quiet, all of you!” That brought almost immediate silence, so he turned his attention to Odrin and said, “Speak loudly enough for everyone to hear you, or we’ll find someone who can.”

  “Yes, my lord, of course,” Odrin quavered, then got a good enough hold on himself to raise his voice. “We’re about to start the competition, my lords and ladies, so I must tell you what it’s all about. The participants will perform one at a time, and what they must do is produce invisible fire.”

  He gestured behind himself at the people who were undraping the hidden forms as though that was supposed to explain what he meant, but everyone seemed to be as confused as I felt. I’d never heard of “invisible” fire, and the blank looks on the woman across from me as well as on the two men who sat beside us, said they’d never heard of it either.

  “As you know, invisible fire is quite a simple doing,” Odrin continued, clearly unaware of the fact that we knew no such thing. “Each participant will need to start his or her fire on the inside of the various targets, and the flames aren’t to show through until the entire inside of the object is consumed. How quickly the outside flares and goes to ash will tell us how thoroughly the inside has been reduced, and that will all be part of the timing.”

  “If that’s what he calls simple, I’d like to see him do it,” the girl muttered, her words only loud enough to reach those of us closest to her. I couldn’t hold back a smile of agreement, pleased to see that someone else had noticed how incompetent those so-called Adepts were. I would also have enjoyed talking to the girl, but Odrin was still speaking.

  “… and the results of the timing of each performance will be announced later,” he went on. “Now, with everything explained, it’s time to present our first competitor.”

  I expected him to look toward us then, but instead he pulled out a slip of paper and squinted down at it. Hope flared inside me that it would be first come, first perform, but apparently good luck still attempted to avoid me. Odrin nodded after checking his list, then looked in my direction.

  “Please come here, my—uh—dear,” he said, obviously unsure of how words made sentences now that he no longer had something memorized to recite. I sighed as I stood and went to him, wondering who had the job of calling him in out of the rain.

  “You must remember not to cross the white line,” he said when I reached him, then he had to look around for a moment before he located the line he wanted to point to. Since it was painted on the floor right in front of the exercise setup, it was somewhat difficult for him to find. “And please don’t forget that you’ll be escorted from the building once you’re through. Good luck, and you may begin as soon as you’re ready.”

  After that he hurried away, probably afraid that I’d confuse him with one of the targets. With Soonen or Gerdol I might not have hesitated, but with him it would be easier to wait until he tripped over his own feet and fell and broke his neck. It was a miracle it hadn’t already happened…

  All of which did nothing to help me start that exercise. I’d had a light touch on the power ever since I’d gotten here, so I started things off by opening myself wide. I felt the usual tingle as the power flowed th
rough me, and suddenly I knew just how the exercise was supposed to be handled. It related to that weaving we’d done, but this time a different pattern was called for.

  My attention went then to the six targets, each of which was in the shape of a four-foot post set in a flat stand. Each post was also constructed of a different material, and starting from the thick wooden one on the left they progressed to heavy leather, pulped wood, burlap, cotton, and fine thread. But all six posts were exactly the same height and diameter, which meant their insides were completely different.

  With the power flowing through me I felt tempted to start with the fine thread, which would be the hardest to keep from burning on the outside when its insides caught. Happily, though, caution was too strongly ingrained in my nature for me to do something that foolish, so I overrode the urge and started with the wood. I also deliberately took my time, since I wasn’t supposed to win. Just enough strength and speed to do the job, and not a smidgen more.

  The inside of the wooden post burned fairly evenly, and when the flames reached the surface of it there was only a bit of a roar before the whole thing fell to ash. The leather post burned more … lumpily, I suppose you could say, and there was less of a roar when the flames burst through. The pulped wood was easy, as was the burlap, but the cotton almost got away from me. The near miss showed me that my flames were too hot for the more delicate materials, so when I finally reached the thread I was able to do it properly. The outside of the post blackened all over before crumbling into ash, and the exercise was completely over.

  “Excellent, my—uh—dear, really excellent,” Odrin complimented as he came back to stand next to me, once again sounding as though he recited a—mostly—prepared speech. “That will certainly set the mark for the rest of the participants, and now you may retire. That gentleman there will escort you.”

 

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