The Paladin Archives Book Two The Withering Falseblade

by Jason Psilopoulos

  “But are we not all supposed to see things for what they are? Marcus seems to see things his own way.” Ian chuckled a little.

  “He does. Marcus has this way of cutting right through to the center of things. He comes at things from an angle that the rest of us see as odd or cockeyed, but he’s still correct in the end. Every bit of experience and logic says he should be wrong and way off the beam, but he’s not. It’s weird, because you wouldn’t think that would be true. But it is and I don’t know how to do that.” Aiko looked confused. Ian seemed to break into an admission of some kind. He shook his head and refocused. Almost as though a thought had occurred to him, only to disappear a split second later. “Marcus told me once that a strong person acts not on what they think they know, but what they actually know. And he didn’t mean facts. He meant our personal reality. He meant all the things that we learn inside that make us who we are. The things we have faith in. Not what is real because reality is relative, but what is true. The things that are always true, that do not vary.” Aiko glanced back at the crowds of people and tried to discern what that really meant.

  Marcus confused her in many ways. He was fun loving and free-spirited, but also strict and stern. He adhered to rules with fervent zeal, but as his own service record showed, he was considered a maverick, likely to fly off and do things that were not sanctioned by the Paladin Council. And yet, his actions were right somehow. It boggled Aiko’s mind.

  “Rebekah Norik!” a man hollered in the crowd, drowning out the rest with the bullhorn in his hand. Ian stood suddenly. This wasn’t a part of the press conference.

  “Who is that?” Aiko asked. Ian watched the man start to advance through the crowd toward the podium. He didn’t look terribly threatening, but his demeanor was less than hospitable.

  “Come on,” Ian took Aiko’s hand and started into the crowd. They needed to get closer.

  Rebekah looked down from the pedestal, trying to pinpoint who was barking her name. She spotted the man, walking up through the throngs of people, shoving cameramen out of his way. She didn’t recognize him offhand.

  “Rebekah Norik!” the man crowed again. Rebekah set her hands on her hips and took an offended posture.

  “I can hear you. What do you want?” The man didn’t seem deterred by her tone. He continued to walk forward, holding the bullhorn in front of his mouth. Rebekah still couldn’t make out his face. But something was familiar about the golden tan of his skin. He was built like a truck. His wardrobe spoke of some kind of official position. But Rebekah couldn’t place him.

  “I represent the Prince of Ar-Tanzra.” Rebekah felt her blood starting to pound in her ears. She’d vowed never to deal with the Ar-Tanzra government or any of its family ever again.

  “State your business,” she said stiffly, trying her best to be diplomatic. She made sure her voice was sufficiently authoritative, to give herself a position of strength. The Ar-Tanzran messenger produced an official scroll, rolling it out for all to see. The writing on it was very extravagant, almost unreadable by someone not of the royal family. With a flourish, the messenger turned it to face him and began to read.

  “As concerning the matter of the Prince Ralse of Ar-Tanzra, and his intended, Princess Rebekah Norik, the Ar-Tanzran regency, having become fully aware of the state of relationship between said princess and the Paladin named Marcus Ezra Kasidyne, has officially dissolved any and all attempts at courtship and marriage. The Prince wishes to extend his fondest appreciation to the Princess of Norik, and hopes that her upcoming nuptials will be happy.” The crowd murmured a moment as the scroll was respooled. The Messenger placed the scroll in his cloaks and bowed. "Also, the matter of the death note claimed against Sir Marcus Ezra Kasidyne has been commuted at the behest of the Prince Ralse, as an appropriate engagement gift. Sir Kasidyne is again free to enter Ar-Tanzra if he so wishes." After a moment of shock and silence, Rebekah shook herself.

  “Uh, thank you,” was all she could say. The Ar-Tanzran bowed again, more courteously this time and then turned and walked away. Rebekah’s face went pink. She hadn’t really expected that. But then, that opened up a whole can of worms she wasn’t prepared to face.

  “So, when’s the wedding?” Simon Houghton asked from the crowd, his voice a mix of reporter’s zeal and sarcasm. The reporters, catching on to the story before them, suddenly went wild with questions. Rebekah stood there for a moment, dumbstruck.

  “Would you stop laughing please?” Marcus asked grimly. “This wasn’t part of the plan.” Ian and Aiko were both doubled over with a serious case of the giggles. Marcus looked at Rebekah and tried not to get caught away in the frivolity. Rebekah had a hand over her mouth, trying to stifle the laughter in herself.

  “So, when is the wedding anyway?” Ian asked between snickers. Marcus knew it was funny, but he didn’t want to laugh about it. Rebekah’s quarters were not the safest place to talk about these things, but Marcus felt better about being here at the moment. It gave the press something to guess at.

  “And why are we engaged?” Rebekah asked, clearing her throat in an attempt to keep from cracking up. Marcus shrugged.

  “Ar-Tanzran Royal law requires a public declaration of affection to precede the announcement of a date for a wedding.” Marcus felt his throat tighten as he explained. “Apparently, because I kissed you, and Prince Ralse saw it in the newspaper, he naturally figured we were formally engaged according to their traditions and withdrew his proposal.” Rebekah nodded. She hadn’t even known that the proposal was still on the table.

  “After that right hook I gave his adjutant, I figured the offer was over anyway.” Marcus shook his head.

  “You probably turned him on,” Ian said, starting to laugh again. Marcus smirked a little. The laughter was starting to wear away his resolve. He shook his head as he took Rebekah’s hand.

  “Thanks for not announcing a date,” he said softly. Rebekah smiled a little.

  “I froze up there. I didn’t know what to say.” Marcus smirked.

  “Better to say nothing than to say something stupid.” Rebekah chuckled a little. “This whole fiasco is your show, Trouble. You've got the Tumbler tomorrow. You’d better get ready for that public exercise you planned in the Quad. Don't want to be late for your own diversions.” Marcus stood, leaning down and kissing her. It wasn’t with the passion that he’d shown before. But Rebekah didn’t mind. With Aiko and Ian in the room, she felt better about not kissing so.

  “I'll try not to make this fiasco into a catastrophe.” Marcus smirked as he headed for the door.

  “I'm better with catastrophes. They have clearer battle lines.”

  “And you can use your sword,” Ian added.

  “I’m going to make myself seen around campus,” Marcus continued. “Better that the press doesn't assume I live here,” he said.

  “Besides, if you stay much longer, the press’ll start to talk,” Ian offered.

  “Or possibly start climbing through your window,” Aiko added. Marcus ignored them both.

  “I’ll check on you in the Holodrome in a few hours.” Rebekah nodded. Marcus headed for the door, with Ian and Aiko in tow. Rebekah sat for a moment, and then stood.

  “Marcus.” Marcus stopped short of the door. Rebekah walked up to him and kissed him hard. Marcus put his arms around her, not wanting to let her go. Ian’s throat clearing roused them both.

  “Uh, guys,” he droned.

  “I love you,” she said softly. Marcus took a long breath.

  “Mm Hmm,” was all Marcus could manage.

  "Come on you two," Ian said as he bulled past them. Aiko followed quietly, noticing the dazed look in Marcus's eyes.

  "Sir Kasidyne? We should go." she said finally. Marcus pulled himself together and walked out, closing the door behind him. Rebekah stood there in a trance for a moment. A deep smile flew up on her face. She hadn’t felt this good in a long time. With a girlish twirl, Rebekah headed for her closet, readying her armor. She had a public training sess
ion to attend.

  Aiko flashed her blade out again, only to have it deflected in an almost relaxed manner. Marcus held his sword at the ready, waiting for her to recover. He was smiling as he started to angle around her. Aiko brought her weapon over her head to the traditional samurai ready position, and tried not to grit her teeth. No tensions, she thought. Her father’s teachings sprang to mind in that moment. She needed to be calm and quiet.

  “You tired?” Marcus asked sarcastically. Aiko felt her pulse quicken slightly. Ian had suggested that Marcus needed either a cold shower, or some exercise after the kiss Rebekah had given him. Aiko had jumped at the chance to face the resident sword master in a practice battle. Her appointment back at the Conservatory could wait another hour. But she was finding it hard to keep up with her opponent.

  “Focus Aiko,” Ian said from the side. “He will mess with your mind. Don’t let him get in your head.” Aiko narrowed her eyes, keeping her gaze on Marcus’s belt buckle, trying to keep his center of gravity in view. It was the only way she could keep him in front of her. Marcus was fast. A great deal faster than his size suggested. She’d lost him a few times already. She’d never met anyone with such quick feet.

  “You’re thinking too much,” Marcus said quietly, spinning his blade in his hand. Aiko didn’t say anything. He was trying to distract her. “You’re wondering what I’m going to do next. In your mind, you’re working out solutions to problems I might cause you.” Marcus juked left, and Aiko shifted to match him. He smiled.

  “Don’t let him behind you,” Ian said. Aiko felt a little annoyed. She already knew that.

  “If I go right, you’re thinking about your footwork. You’re thinking about the parry you’ll need if I take a swipe at you. You’re wondering how hard the swipe will be, or if it’s a feint. You’ve got a solution to every problem that you can think of. Except one.” Marcus brought his sword downward and met Aiko’s parrying blade. She felt the blow reverberated through her arms. The force of the strike almost made her drop her sword.

  “If I know everything that I need to know to beat this guy, and I do it all perfectly, then why does he keep winning?” Marcus gave only the slightest press with his hands, and forced Aiko to her knees. She winced. Her muscles ached from being forced around by this paladin. She blew a bit of her hair from her eyes and shoved.

  “Maybe it’s his speed, or his strength. Or maybe he’s cheating somehow.” Marcus gave her a wicked smile. “Or maybe you're just no good.” Aiko scowled at the statement. Marcus pulled back his blade as Aiko lunged for him. He turned his body slightly and let her strike go wide. Aiko felt her balance leave her, her tired legs giving out as she sailed past Marcus and fell to the floor in an undignified sprawl.

  “I tried to warn you,” Ian said behind her as she pulled herself to sitting position. "He's better than I say." Marcus was sheathing his sword, and Ian was walking up to her, offering a hand. Aiko took it gladly.

  “You are an uncommon swordsman,” she said breathlessly. Marcus nodded a thank you. “I do not understand how you can be so formidable. My training surpasses your own.” Marcus shrugged.

  “I would say skill, but that’s not very modest,” he said as he reached for a towel. “You are better than me. At least technically. But there's more to it than just technique. The only thing I can really tell you is that I’m feeling my way through.” Aiko frowned.

  “That sounds like you are calling it luck.” Marcus chuckled.

  “Well, luck does play in a little,” Ian said, handing Aiko a towel for her face.

  “All things have a spirit. Even battle. When you stood and lunged, you did so out of frustration and anger. You matched me move for move, brilliantly, because you know everything there is to know about swordplay. But every time you lost, it was because you lost your composure.” Aiko set herself down on a bench to the side of the small room and glowered. Marcus had just pinpointed something in a half an hour that her father had been telling her for years.

  “You are a swordsmanship genius,” her father would start. “But you lack calm.” Aiko knew it was true, but her own inborn stubborn streak kept her from acknowledging that truth.

  “How do you control anger then?” she asked simply. Marcus shrugged.

  “Years of arduous practice,” Ian said dryly. Aiko looked at him as he smirked. Marcus waved Ian off.

  “That’s not for me to tell you. Everyone’s different. The things that get me angry and the things that anger you are unique. I would say that your pride gets in your way. You hate to lose. And you're very proud of your ability as an Erikan Samurai. I taunted you, and you lost your cool. Maybe you should start there.” Marcus tossed his towel on the bench and started for the water fountain.

  “You’re trying to prove that you belong in the world of soldiers with the men. And you do. But because you’re trying so hard to prove that point, you are getting in your own way. Sometimes it is in stillness that we do the most moving.” Aiko tilted her head slightly.

  “So why do you have Rebekah making a spectacle of herself? Is that still?” Marcus chuckled.

  “Everybody seems to think that was my idea,” he said, looking at Ian. Ian gave him only a small shrug. “Aiko, I don’t like people hiding around me. Something is going on here. Somebody wants us to be jumping at shadows. They want control, and I don’t want to give it to them.”

  “But how do you take that kind of control? By having the Princess make a mockery of herself?” Aiko asked. Marcus nodded.

  “By upsetting the game board.” That got a strange look from Aiko. “Whoever it is out there, Dreads or sorcerers or whatever. They want to set the board and the rules and the turns. But they don’t want us knowing what the game is. So, my only move is to knock over the board and see who comes out to reset it.

  “Rebekah being out there in the Games is not the best idea in my opinion, but it will draw the enemy out of their carefully laid plans and give us a chance to change the game.” Aiko wasn’t sure exactly what she was hearing.

  “You want them nervous,” she said finally. Marcus nodded.

  “I want them scrambling to regain control. It’s the same as all that talking during our sparring. I take you out of your carefully planned attacks and stratagems and make you meet me on my terms. When it works, it levels the playing field.”

  “But it doesn’t always work,” Ian said finally. Marcus pointed at his pupil.

  “Right. And that goes back to the spirit of battle. Sometimes, doing nothing will accomplish the same thing.” Marcus stood, his height quietly imposing. “When you can feel the sway of battle, you can bend it, and ANY opponent, to your will.” Marcus began for the exit. Aiko watched him stop short, looking to the doorway. A thousand flashbulbs went off all at once.

  “Hello Marcus,” Jennifer said. Ian could almost swear he saw Marcus wilt in that second.

  “Speaking of battle,” Ian mumbled. Marcus frowned.

  Great, he thought.

  Ellen’s Landing wasn’t necessarily secure, but Marcus thought it might be fitting to go there anyway. Ian and Aiko were running interference in the trees, so Marcus was sure the press wouldn’t bother them for at least a few minutes. And the last thing he needed was the media to get in on this conversation. The waves were calm this time of day, so Marcus wouldn't have to strain his ears to hear. But that also meant that any digital microphones would pick up the conversation.

  Jennifer stood out on the beach, feeling the grains of sand between her toes. Marcus watched her for a moment, sitting on Strebor’s Rock in his usual place. He thought back to the last time the two of them had been there together before his Paladin Trials. He’d been so in love. His mind had not been so caught away in problems with Dread Paladins and paparazzi. He still had Jacob at his side. He wasn’t a mentor or a teacher. He was responsible for so very little. And he was still engaged to her.

  Marcus shook himself. That time was gone he didn't have any of that in his life anymore. Jennifer's place in his world w
as a fading memory. He kept telling himself that. Not that it mattered particularly. In the end, she hadn't actually gone away. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew this was going to be the result. Jennifer would return, and with her she'd bring turmoil into his life.

  “I wanted to come back so many times,” Jennifer said finally, not looking at him. Marcus nodded gravely.

  “You didn’t though. I tried to move on.” Jennifer shrugged.

  “Seems you’ve succeeded from the pictures I see.” Jennifer was referring to the picture of the kiss of course. Marcus thought of Rebekah in that moment, and it made him smile.

  “It’s a recent development.” Jennifer didn’t have much to say to that. Marcus was being so guarded about himself. He wasn’t letting her in at all. “Why didn’t you write or something?” Jennifer wrapped her arms around herself and looked at the water.

  “I wanted to. But I figured in person would be better.” She turned and looked at him. “Bad call huh?” Marcus had to agree with that.

  "Bad lack of call." Jennifer started to move toward him. Marcus watched as she climbed the small curve of Strebor’s Rock to sit next to him. He straightened up as she approached, not at all comfortable with her proximity.

  “I really missed you,” she said softly. Marcus could see the intent in her face. Jennifer's jade green eyes seemed to bore into him, touching the deepest parts of his memory. He could only stare for a moment as she came closer. She leaned to him, and he stood.

  “Jennifer,” he said, not nearly as forcefully as he had wanted. He felt the oddest sensation of nostalgia. He felt as though he should remember something about this. It was all so familiar. He just couldn't recall why. She stood to meet him, leaning in close. Marcus could feel her breathe on his lips. “Jennifer!” he said, shifting away from her. She stopped short. “I agreed to talk to you," he said more sternly. "I’m not interested in more right now.”