by Brad Clark
He dropped his head partly because he was tired, partly because he was too ashamed to speak his mind. "It is late," he said and started to walk towards the castle.
Princess Elissa fell into step with him and said, "So, Conner. Tell me about your home."
Conner did not want to talk. His aching body was begging for sleep. His mind was numb, and his words were barely able to come out, but he told her.
“My parents died when I was young. My mother of some disease when I was real little. My father when I was a bit older. They say he went to bed one night and never woke up.”
“Oh…” her voice cracked. “I had no idea. How awful!”
Conner smiled at her response. “I hardly have any memory of them, so I guess I don’t miss them. Really, it’s okay.”
Tears formed at the corner of her eyes. She knew what it was like to be without one parent, but she could only image what it would be like to be without both parents. “You really don’t miss them? Not at all?”
“I live … well, I slept at my aunt’s place. My dad’s sister. She took me in, but she was kind of a mean old lady. She was much older than my dad and pretty much raised him growing up. I guess she didn’t really care to raise another one.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I had a fine childhood. I spent much of it in the woods hunting. Sometimes I’d be gone for weeks, sleeping under the stars, living off the land.”
His pace slowed as her jaw dropped. “Really?” she asked with a smirk.
“Seriously!” Conner replied with a laugh. “The first time I did it, I was really mad at her about something. A month later I came home carrying a big buck on my back. She didn’t say a thing. We skinned and gutted the deer, cooked and cured it.”
“How old were you?”
“Ten.”
“Ten!” she exclaimed. “It wasn’t until I was twelve before my father would let me even ride through the woods. And then I had to be escorted by a dozen Royal Guardsmen!”
“Sometimes I miss it. My aunt. My village. It was my home for so long. But I guess this is my home now.” He glanced at her and she smiled back at him. When he looked up, he realized that they were only a few feet from the castle gate.
Elissa stopped him with a soft hand on his shoulder. “Thank you for walking me home.”
He smiled. “It was nice to talk to you.”
“We should do it more often,” she said, returning his smile.
“I would like that.” Conner said.
Her hand moved out and touched his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Tomorrow night, then. In the garden.” She spun on her heels turning away from the gate, her blond hair whipping in the wind.
Conner gestured towards the castle gate. “Are you not coming?”
She smiled with a twinkle in her eye. “I come and go another way.”
***
Conner didn’t want to move. He could have, if his life depended upon it. But since it didn’t, he didn’t move. He sat with his back against the cool cavern wall, sweat pouring down his face, stinging his eyes. He was too tired to wipe his forehead and if he had tried, his muscles would have rebelled, as they were too sore to move. He had let the sword drop carelessly at his side, landing blade-side down. If Goshin had seen the blade treated so casually, the old man would have had a fit. But at the moment, Conner didn’t care. Nothing mattered at the moment, only that he was in perpetual pain.
Until recently he had been sleeping soundly at night. Between his morning sessions with Goshin and afternoon training with the squires, there was little else for him to do. He had the chores of a squire in waiting, which he was mostly able to do. Many times he hurried through them so quickly, they weren't good enough for his instructors, so he ended up with extra work, such as cleaning out pig stalls. But sleep was no longer coming easy to him at night. After he started spending time with Princess Elissa at night, walking under the moonlight through the labyrinth, his mind was just too active to shut down and allow himself to sleep. She was beautiful, but everyone knew that. But there was so much more to her. In their time together, they talked about so many different things and she taught him so much. He was also amazed at what she knew about the kingdom. They talked about the city and how the government worked. They talked about how goods from the Taran Empire made their way across the gulf to the docks of the city, through the kingdom, and even up north to Thell and the other eastern kingdoms. Sometimes Conner forgot how young she really was. She was barely a woman, just old enough to bare children, but certainly still young enough to play and joke around like a child. And she did plenty of that, but she still walked and talked like the princess she wanted to be.
She talked at length about wanting to follow her father and rule the kingdom. She shared what she had learned from her father, from him directly, or from just watching him. And then she would get quiet, as she would talk about how she knew her father did not think of her that way. He thought of her has his little daughter, almost as a favorite toy, something that he could take out and play with when he wanted to, and put her on a shelf when he became bored. He was a loving and doting father, and would do all he could to protect her. But she knew he never thought of her as the next leader of the kingdom.
Conner was fascinated by her. She was so young, but so smart. He had never really thought of her that way, until she started to talk and share her feelings and her ideas. It also made him a bit insecure around her. She could read and write as well as anyone. He had learned to read a little bit, but he really had no reason to write. Maybe he would talk to Goshin about that. That would surely make him better in her eyes.
All thoughts of Princess Elissa faded when Goshin approached with a number of scrolls tucked underneath his arm. "Rest time almost over," Goshin declared.
Conner tried to smile as a bit of humor came over him. “Are you now to teach me from your mysterious scrolls?”
Ignoring the comment, Goshin started to carefully insert the scrolls into leather cases. “These are ancient writings from a people called the Ishralla. I have spent much of my life studying their works. While you rest, I do not. I study. But rest time is over.”
“Ishralla?” Conner asked, trying to extend the conversation. “I have never heard of them.”
Goshin turned his head and gave Conner a fatherly smile. “Of course not. Their kingdom no longer exists and their peoples are scattered across the earth. They have no country or king, but they do have a history.” He paused for a moment as he set the leather cases into a wood cabinet. “They are the favored people of God.”
“This is the one God that you talk about?”
“Yes,” Goshin replied softly. “The scrolls were written many thousands of years ago by people inspired by God. They have been passed down by the people of Ishralla, carefully preserved since they were originally written.”
“Those scrolls are thousands of years old?” Conner asked. “What do they say?”
“No to first question. They were written twenty-five years ago by a monk, copied from one of the many other copies that exist. I do not know if the originals exist, but plenty of copies do. As to other question, they talk of many things. Some about the past, some about things to come.”
“Things to come?” Conner asked, his curiosity more than piqued.
“Yes. Prophecy. The plans of God have been laid out since the beginning of time. The Word of God is written to help us know and understand Him and what is to come. Many of the prophesies seem to revolve around the fact that someday, God will return to His kingdom, back to earth. ”
“Oh, like Mishan and Tishan, the gods of the sea and land are to come back to…”
“No!” Goshin retorted sharply. “The prophesies are not about your gods, but about the one God. He will come back to save the world. At least that is what the prophesy reads. But I do not understand much of it. It is written in a language that is not used anymore, by men and women that were much closer to God than I am. I do not understand all of the pr
ophesy, but there are a number of events that are listed that proceed the coming of God. One such passage talks of a light growing in the west.”
“A light?" Conner asked. "What kind of light?”
“It is not clear, but it could mean a star," Goshin replied. "The king has a looking glass that he uses to look at the moon and the stars. He has spied one star that suddenly appeared. It could be the light that the prophesy is talking about. Or it could be coincidence.” He eyes strayed back to the cabinet that held the scrolls.
“What does it mean?” Conner asked.
“For you, it means it is time to train.” His face was as stoic as it always was. But Conner could see that there was something different in his eyes. For the first time since Conner started training, Master Goshin was not totally focused. He was distracted.
"I need more rest,” Conner said, closing his eyes and leaning his back against the cold cavern wall.
“No rest,” Goshin declared. “We have much to do.”
Conner shook his head. “I cannot. I want to, I really do, but I cannot do anymore today.”
Goshin’s already narrow eyes narrowed. “You have much training. We cannot waste any more of the day. Enough has been wasted already. Now it is time to get to work.”
Conner wanted to cry, but he forced his eyes to remain dry, and his voice strong. “You constantly tell me to listen to my body. And now my body is telling me to rest.”
“Your body is telling you to be lazy, and you are listening,” Goshin said between clenched teeth. He was clearly trying to hold in his anger. “I tell you to listen to how body works, so that your mind and body are one. I do not tell you to let your body rule you. Your mind rules your body. Your body can do anything your mind tells it to.”
“My mind is as tired as my body. I cannot go on.”
“You are weak,” Goshin spat the words out. “I should never have started this. You cannot learn the ways of the Sak’hurai. We are done. You may return to your barracks and sleep there.”
Goshin turned quickly and walked away.
Conner pushed himself up, every muscle screaming in pain. Without thought, his hand grabbed his sword. “I am not weak, and I will be Sak’hurai!”
Goshin stopped, but did not turn around. “Your mind is far from Sak’hurai. A Sak’hurai thinks nothing of those around him, thinks nothing of anything around him. They train from the day they can walk until the day that they die. They live Sak’hurai. Every waking moment is Sak’hurai. For you, you spend some time here with me, learning the moves, but you do not learn Sak’hurai. You walk late nights with your princess, when you should be letting your body rest. Your mind is not Sak’hurai.”
“I have learned, and I am Sak’hurai!" Conner shouted back.
Goshin spun, a sword in his hand. Conner did not know where it had come from. But it was not a dull training sword. It shone bright in the yellow torch light of the cavern. Conner moved, lowering his base as he was taught, letting his sword come up and absorb the force of the blow. Goshin’s blade was deflected away from Conner’s head just at the last moment. Conner stepped back, finding himself in the right stance, his sword up and ready. His heart pounded, but his breathing was calm. Just as he had been taught.
“A Sak’hurai does not stop. Such a blow by me should be met by attack, not defense. You should have pressed the attack.”
“You are better than me, you would have…” Conner protested.
“A Sak’hurai does not know better,” Goshin snapped back loudly. “A Sak’hurai is better. He is either the best, or he is dead. He does not back down from one better, because he knows no better. He is best.” Goshin lowered his sword. “You are not Sak’hurai.”
“I can learn,” Conner pleaded. “I can be Sak’hurai!”
Goshin watched his pupil for a moment, studying not his stance, but the focused look in his eyes. Finally, he said, “Truly, in a short time, you have learned much. In fact, more than I thought you might. But you cannot be Sak’hurai.”
A look of astonishment flashed across his face. “But if I am to be the princess’ champion…”
“You do not need to be Sak’hurai to be her champion. You are her champion by being.”
Conner felt his remaining strength fall away. The adrenaline rush that had been fueled by Goshin’s attack was gone. He let the point of his sword drop to the ground. It took all his effort to keep the sword in his grasp.
Goshin stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You are her champion now,” he said. “You do not need to be Sak’hurai to be her champion.”
“I want to be,” Conner protested.
“You cannot be both her champion and Sak’hurai. A Sak’hurai sacrifices all. I do not believe you are ready to let her go.”
Conner let the sword fall to the ground. “It is over, then?” Conner asked.
Goshin stood silent for several long moments before finally speaking. “No. I shall continue to train you. But not as a Sak’hurai. You are not ready for that. I do not know if you will ever be ready for that.”
Conner surprised himself by allowing a tear to streak down his cheek. He lowered his head in shame. What little strength he did have left was swept away like a beach in a storm.
“A Sak’hurai has no feelings. No emotion. But you do. Maybe that is why you cannot be Sak’hurai."
“Then I have failed”, Conner said.
Master Goshin took a deep breath. “No, it is I that have failed you. As much as you cannot learn to be Sak’hurai, I cannot teach it to you. I can teach you the moves. I can teach you to dance with swords, but I cannot teach you to be Sak’hurai. And that is my failing.”
“Then I have failed, “Conner said.
“What now,” Conner asked.
"Kin San," Goshin replied. “I can teach you to be Kin San."
“What is that?”
“It is a word that means fighter or warrior. To a Sak’hurai, it is someone who can fight with a sword, but is not really trained. It can also mean a soldier in an army. But I must call you something, and Kin San is as good as anything.” Goshin smiled at the worried look that came across Conner’s face. “Do not worry. The moves and skills that I teach you are that of a Sak’hurai. There are just some things that you will never be able to master until you can become Sak’hurai. Shall we begin?”
Conner could barely move. He could barely hold up his sword, but he nodded.
Goshin held out his sword for Conner to take. “You will need this.”
Conner looked down at the sword that Goshin was handing him. It was the twin of his own, the one that Goshin had refused to let him use.
“It is time for you to learn to dance with your swords. You may never become Sak’hurai. But maybe, just maybe, you might be able to fight like one.”
Chapter Twelve
Brace put a little weight on the leg and it felt as if someone drove a knife deep into it, twisted, and then pulled it out. He used all his strength, power, and courage to keep from letting out a shout.
Mirfar leaned close and whispered into his ear. “It is still too early. Your leg has not healed.”
“I am fine,” Brace said between gritted teeth. “I have done nothing but sleep for days and I will go crazy if I have sit for one more!” Using a long limb freshly cut from a nearby tree to lean on, he hobbled his way towards the camp fire.
“You are a stubborn people, you Karmons,” Mirfar said with a smile.
Brace stopped, and turned back to the man who had saved his life. He could have left Brace to die, but he didn’t. And not only had he kept him alive, but he had made sure that his leg was taken care of well enough that he would soon be able to walk on it. Brace simply smiled and let out a soft laugh, unable to come up with the words that would express his gratitude. He knew that he would not have done the same thing. His hatred of the Thellians had run deep. But now, he looked at the man who called himself Mirfar, and he looked no different than any typical Karmon. He smiled, he laughed. He was not a
n animal, but a man. It was a shame that he had spent so much of his life hating.
Bellock, the big man, had made a thick rabbit stew. He dished a scoop into a wooden bowl as Brace approached. The other two men were already eating and looked up from the bowls for just a moment before returning to their dinner. The other two never talked. They were old, but not quite as old as Mirfar, but much older than the youthful looking Bellock. Mirfar had explained that they were nomads, wandering across the mountains while the weather was still good. They would make their way west as it got closer to fall to avoid the harsh winters of the north.
The rabbit stew was good. Most anything that Bellock made was tasty. He had a fine hand with cooking and an ample supply of spices. Brace raised his bowl in appreciation to the big man, who smiled back in return.
“It has been decided,” Mirfar said in between bites. “Kirwin and Lillimar will take your message to the king. They are trustworthy.”
Brace shook his head. “The message will not be the same if it is not from me. I must go.”
“You are unable to ride with that leg. If we had a cart, we’d throw you on the back and haul you there. But we are in the mountains and we have no cart. If the message is as important as you say, then this is the only way.” He patted Brace on his good leg. “If your message is well received, then maybe our countries are entering a new age of peace. I have known nothing but fear of you Karmons for as long as I have lived. It will be nice not to have to live with that fear.”
“Fear?” Brace asked. “What do you fear from us? It has been your soldiers that have gone south into our lands, killed our villagers…”
“We fear the Knights of Karmon,” Mirfar said, cutting him off. “If you wanted to, you could march through our cities, killing us all. We have an army, but it is made up of farmers and merchants. We have some soldiers, but I have met them and I despise them. They are no more soldiers than the dogs that run with them. True soldiers are honorable. Like you!”