The Paladin Archives Book Two The Withering Falseblade

by Jason Psilopoulos

  “Weird huh?” Marcus nodded. “You think she believes I’m a Dread or something?” Marcus shrugged as he sipped his drink.

  “Half the girls on the campus are giving you a wide berth because of Horthok. This one actually came up to you and asked you out. If she thinks it, I have a feeling she doesn’t care.” Ian took a sip from his own drink and thought about it. His lips became a thin line.

  “What do I do now?” Marcus chuckled a little.

  “Don’t go off and marry her because she’s willing to talk to you,” he jibed. Ian grimaced a little. “Take it easy Ian. No need to rush. Take it from a man who rushed things once before,” Marcus offered. “Nearly got me killed.”

  “So, that’s it? Slow down? You are a font of vanilla advice these last couple of days.” That’s when the music changed and the girls started for them. Marcus set his cup down on the refreshment table.

  “Make fun of my advice later. For now, just be cool.” Without another word, Marcus began forward, intent on meeting Rebekah halfway across the floor. Ian followed silently. Marcus felt his nervous energy settling in the pit of his stomach and tried his best not to let it show on his face.

  Jack had been trying all night to get someone else to dance with him. But no matter what he seemed to do, he was without a dance partner. He didn’t count the abortive attempt with Sydney. That hadn’t been a dance. It had been a door slamming in his face. After a good hour of trying, he figured that no one wanted to dance simply because they had promised their dates that particular honor. That’s what he told himself. It was entirely possible these were the fruits of his less than stellar youth finally coming back to bite him. Jack dropped down into a chair at the edge of the dance floor, a cup of water in hand. He took a quick sip and groaned.

  This isn’t what I expected, he thought. It hadn’t been what he wanted at all. The Cotillion was supposed to be fun, but Jack just wasn’t having any. He gazed at the crowd, trying to concentrate on something other than his own sorry state of affairs. Three quarters of those in attendance were people he’d seen around campus. Mostly paladins and their dates. Some of them were people he knew. But the other quarter were people he had never seen before.

  The Erikan Samurai were dressed in their official uniforms, all decked out in the traditional Erikan colors. Whites with a dazzling green trim. Ian’s date looked especially stunning, her jade green dress sparkling in the lights of the dance floor. There was no point in asking any of the other Erikan women to dance. Firstly, throwing his name around with them would have little weight. But more importantly, he’d learned that with the exception of Ian’s date, all the other women who had come along were married. He felt jealous. Ian, despite all the problems he seemed to have had with getting a date, had managed to find someone. And she had been the only Erikan that wasn’t already attached to a husband. The development made Jack envious.

  The rest of the men in the crowd were Calidor Krossmen. Every last one of them was big, broad-shouldered and mean-looking. None of them smiled. Worse yet, they all strutted about with the kind of arrogance that was rarely seen in Littlefield. It took a bit of doing, but most of the paladins in attendance paid their rude looks and grunting speech at least a little courtesy.

  Their dates were all petite, platinum blonde and purposely clueless women that had come along with their troop. They did personify the Calidor edict that a strong man needed a subservient woman at his side. And these women were intentionally so. Only smart enough to doll themselves up and latch onto the biggest Krossman arm they could manage. They were here to be beautiful and silent. The very definition of arm candy.

  Among the Krossmen was someone that Jack did recognize however. Standing in his mirror polished armor, sending off shafts of blinding light was Cole Remec. Jack had seen the tapes from the previous Peace Games. Cole was big. Real big. He had to be at least six foot eight. And that was without his boots. His long brown hair was a purposeful disarray that concealed a portion of his face. And when he looked at someone, Jack could almost swear he saw them flinch.

  The tapes hadn’t lied. Cole was a beast of a person, both in size and personality. It was one of the things about him that made the sword battle with Marcus so interesting. Other than the fact that Marcus was a full head shorter. Marcus favored the broadsword, which was faster and more versatile than Cole's zweihander. The oversized, club-like blade was blunted on one side, and sharp on the other. It was powerful, but slow. It wasn't like other swords of its kind. But then, Cole wasn't your average swordsman. Marcus had out-quicked and out finessed the larger man, racking more scoring blows more quickly. In the aftermath, the Holodrome had needed a week's worth of repair. Cole had not taken to losing very well. And he hadn’t been very sportsmanlike when it was over either. Jack wondered what kind of competition would play out this year.

  “Hey Jack,” Mary said as she walked over, obviously finished with her dancing for the moment. She dropped down into the chair next to him and took the small cup from his hand. Jack gave her an appalled look as she smiled coyly.

  “I wouldn’t mind you saying please,” he said, his tone one of disdain. Mary smiled a little brighter.

  “And I wouldn’t have minded you offering. But we all have unfulfilled wants you know.” Jack shook his head. He wasn’t sure he liked this color on Mary. She seemed more like the girls he knew around the campus, playing and flirting, and less like the girl he knew with a book attached permanently to her sword hand. It was proof positive to Jack at least, that all girls were silly girls at heart. He wasn’t sure which he preferred.

  “Auck! What is this?” she chirped, glaring at Jack’s cup. “There’s fruit punch. Why’re you drinking this?” Jack glanced over at the refreshment table and smirked.

  “Creosus tried to spike the punch. Didn’t want to take the chance, so I got water from a fountain the next block over.” Mary set the cup down and frowned at Jack’s admission.

  “You walked two blocks for a cup of bitter water?’ she asked. Jack nodded stiffly.

  “I had some time on my hands,” he said.

  “What’re you doing now?” Mary asked quietly.

  “Wondering how long I need to sit here before I leave a permanent impression,” he admitted. Mary pursed her lips, wondering if she could stand another sip of water.

  “A few weeks, I’d bet. Those are steel chairs,” she offered. Jack grunted sourly. “Believing this is the only impression you’re going to make is pretty low thinking Jack.” Jack smirked a little.

  “Can’t seem to make an impression on anyone other than this chair. So I should make one here. At least this impression will last.” Jack looked out at the dance floor wistfully. “I can’t get a dance.”

  “Have you tried asking someone who’ll actually dance with you? Other than Sydney, I mean.” Jack balked.

  “Like that didn’t cross my mind.” Jack sounded bitter. Mary set the cup down on the chair beside her and leaned forward.

  “So, your solution is to find a water fountain a mile from here, walk all the way back here and sit around like a lovesick wimp?” Jack shrugged at that. “You know Jack, it wouldn’t hurt to mingle a little.” Jack nodded only slightly.

  “I don’t know how to mingle,” he admitted. “I never needed to before. Besides, all the people I usually ‘mingle’ with are just too smug to be good conversation. You know the types. High-browed, nose in the air snobs who only want to talk about themselves and how awesome they think they are. Real vanity cases. And most of the rest look at me like I'm some kind of a disease for trying to do something other than cause trouble.” That had been the story all night. Even guys like Monroe Prit, who were social misfits in many ways but had looked up to Jack, were too full of themselves to even speak to him without an insult dribbling out of the corner of their mouths. And certainly, Sydney was not going to talk to him anymore tonight. Her eyes had read of concern at seeing him. But Jack saw nothing else to suggest that she was even remotely interested. Certainly not on the
terms he had set.

  “Is this the price of doing the right thing? Alienation and insults?” he asked. Mary shrugged.

  “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never paid attention to things outside my books.” Jack nodded. That made sense. “Being popular’s important to you, isn’t it?” Mary asked solemnly. Jack nodded.

  “I guess it is. At least, it used to be. Really, it’s all I knew. I’ve never been UN-popular before.” Jack leaned back in his seat, looking up past the trees at the sky and stars above. “I used to be the leader. I was the boss," he sighed. "If I wanted to do something, they always thought it was a good idea. Any crazed idea that came to my mind, they were willing to do. If I wanted to go with a girl, the girl fell all over herself to be on my arm. Sydney included. I was in complete control of my life.” Mary shook her head.

  “No, you weren’t.” Jack looked up. “Jack, you’re right. You’re a leader. People follow you because they follow your charisma. But people like those guys only follow when you do things that they like to do. You were an image to them. A figurehead of sorts. Something to follow because of who you are. Or were. Because you were willing to be rebellious in a place where rebellion is bad. Those guys are surrounded by what they see as stifling rules and regulations. You gave them an outlet. And because you’re part of a prominent family, they felt sheltered. You could get away with those things, and by extension, so could they. But you discovered, finally, what those rules are all about. And they can’t handle that, because they can’t see it.” Jack nodded at that. “Even Sydney.”

  “I was in love with her,” he said quietly. “I AM in love with her. I might as well admit it to myself out loud. I didn’t realize it until she was gone. Now, I don’t know what to do about it.” Mary frowned a little. She had been overly harsh to him. That came from not knowing the actual score.

  “I did this to us both. The way she is now is my fault,” Jack admitted softly. Mary could see Jack’s eyes quiver ever so slightly. He sucked back a breath and tried to smile.

  “Did you two . . .?” Mary stopped herself when she saw the look on Jack’s face. “You know what? Not my business. Never mind.” Jack shook his head grimly.

  “She could have gone either way Mary. I pulled her away from light. And now she doesn’t want to leave the dark.” Mary could tell that Jack was serious. He was starting to wax poetic.

  “I don’t know that she’s gone all that dark Jack. I mean, she’s being rude and she wants to do some things that you feel you can’t anymore. But she’s not a Dread Paladin or something worse. Give her time. Things might change. You never know.”

  “Good evening Wyllder,” came a sing-song voice. Jack grimaced at the sound. Sydney and Monroe were dancing past, both with haughty looks on their faces. Mary glanced up casually.

  “See. Things are looking up already,” Mary said spritely.

  “How?” Jack asked.

  “I love your dress, Wyllder. Pink taffeta. I could never muster the courage to dress like a big cupcake.” The sarcasm was practically solid in the air. Mary just smiled.

  “Thank you. It’s good to know somebody can tell how sweet I am.” Sydney didn’t have a response to that. “And I’m so happy to see you making sure that your little brother has a date for the evening. To have the courage to date a boy half your size? Or is it half MY size?” Both of them stumbled a little as they tried to find a good response.

  “That’s not-” Mary put a hand up abruptly.

  “By the way. I talked to Lady Safira for you. She said she’d be more than happy to walk the two of you home tonight.” Sydney’s face fell. She glanced across the dance floor and caught a glimpse of the senior paladin motioning to her.

  “You didn’t,” she groaned. Mary nodded.

  “Just doing my part. Wouldn’t want you getting into trouble. It’s a long walk back to Almasy Road. She’ll keep you from getting sidetracked,” Mary said with a sly smile.

  “Really. You’re too kind Wyllder.” Mary just smiled contentedly as they danced away. Jack smirked a little.

  “Thanks,” he said, gesturing with his cup.

  “No problem,” Mary returned. “It was my pleasure.”

  “That’s the kind of response I could get from them before. Word fumbles.” Mary took another sip from Jack’s water, grimaced and nodded.

  “They aren’t the smartest group. Or the nicest.” Jack nodded. Mary was right. “You were insufferable before all this. I don’t think I saw anything but you attached to Sydney’s face for at least a week after I’d met you.” Jack sighed. He remembered. “That and you hanging your head off the back of your chair. You’re not like that anymore.”

  “Yeah. Since Syd’s attached to Monroe’s face now. I’d like to hang his head off the back of a chair.” Mary could hear the venom in that statement. “Ever since I started in class with you guys, I’ve been changing. Problem is, no one else is changing with me.” Mary knew what he was saying. She could see him trying to put it together in his mind.

  “Changing how?” Jack closed his eyes and nodded.

  “I’ve been trying to be better. I never tried doing that before. Thought I could just ride my family’s fame anywhere I wanted. You know, my father has been trying to tell me to straighten up for years now. Something about being what I say I am.” Mary nodded.

  “Sounds like he knows what he’s talking about.” Jack shrugged.

  “Who listens when your parents are calling you a jerk?” Jack shook his head. “But since all this started, I’ve been doing the one thing I didn’t do when I was the toast and terror of the campus.” Mary looked confused.

  “And what’s that?” Jack sat up and looked at her.

  “Aspiring. For some reason, I want to be good at being a paladin. I want to believe it like Sir Kasidyne does. And because I’m trying to do right things, my old friends don’t have time for me.” Jack slumped back in his seat. It was all so frustrating. He felt it suddenly hit him as he said it. That’s what had been bothering him.

  “You really love her?” Mary asked. Jack nodded.

  “Tragically, I’m afraid. But I changed and she didn’t. Or at least, she didn’t change in the same way.” Jack shook his head. “I really have no idea what to do next.”

  “Well, I’m not gonna say things one way or another about that. You've got your own hole to dig out of with them. But I am gonna do this.” Mary stood taking Jack by the hand and pulling him to his feet. Jack didn’t object as she dragged him to the dance floor. Mary started dancing with him and Jack smiled.

  “I really do owe you one.” Mary nodded.

  “You better believe it Mister.”

  Marcus laughed out loud. It was hard not to. Ian was in the middle of a story he’d told before. But Aiko had never heard it. Her reactions were classic. She had taken the entire story as reality, until Ian had given the punch line. It took her a moment, but she started to laugh as the humor of it settled in. After a bit, she was laughing right along with them.

  “Keeping up on your sword skills Kasidyne?” a booming voice said from behind as Marcus pulled himself together. He looked around and saw him there. He had to look up to see his face.

  “Enough to keep me alive,” Marcus said as he turned. “Cole Remec.” Marcus put out his hand for a firm shake. Cole did not take it. Marcus was undeterred. “Not exactly dressed for a party.” Marcus referred to the suit of armor the man was sporting. Cole grunted a little.

  “I didn’t come here to dance.” Ian chuckled a little. “Something amusing boy?”

  “I was just thinking. Where do ogres go for dates these days?” Marcus smirked. “You don’t have a date, do you? Just a dozen guys with rags making sure you don’t get any fingerprints on that armor. Or is it that you can’t dance?” Cole’s grimacing face seemed to crease even further than before. Marcus shook his head, waving Ian off.

  “Be nice Ian,” Aiko said from the side.

  “Yeah. Don’t upset the gorilla,” Rebekah added.

  “I be
lieve I said ogre, not gorilla. Don’t misquote me,” Ian returned. “But the question remains. Does Remec have a date? Or can he dance?” Cole didn’t seem to hear it.

  “You are correct boy. I do not have a date. I have a wife.” Ian shrunk a bit. “My woman is at home bearing me sons as is her responsibility. And a warrior does not dance.” Rebekah got an indignant look on her face.

  “Barefoot and pregnant? You misogynistic blowhard.” Marcus grabbed her arm and tried to calm her before she did something she’d regret.

  “I know you don’t like him. Just take it easy, huh?” Marcus said into her ear. Rebekah said nothing, but Marcus could tell by the tension in her arm that she had no intention of calming down.

  “Obviously, Miss Norik has a problem with the treatment of women in Calidor,” Aiko said astutely. Cole snorted coarsely.

  “We do not treat our women any differently than they deserve. They have their place, as do men,” he said proudly. Marcus felt Rebekah’s arm straining against his grip. She clearly wanted to let her fist become acquainted with his eye.

  “There is no danger inherent in women doing more than baring children,” Aiko said smartly. “Your position is not unlike the males in my own culture. It speaks specifically of your pride.” Cole’s face hardened as Aiko spoke.

  “You forget your place,” he said threateningly.

  “My place is wherever I choose it to be Mister Remec. This is a world of people. Gender is irrelevant.” Aiko let that point stand without further statement. Cole could tell that she would not back down from her stance.

  “I did not come here to discuss gender relations with angry, overly educated females. Nor did I come to engage in pointless socializing. I came to reclaim my swordsmanship title. This bacchanal is useless. We should be fighting.” Cole’s attitude had always been one of all business.

  “Sounds like fighting to me,” Ian muttered. Marcus sighed and offered Cole a cup of punch.