by David Ekrut
“Yes,” she smiled. “Only, touched weapons are forged to combat elementalists.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Elwin said. “Why would elementalists make weapons to be used against them?”
“There are several reasons,” she said. “First, there are elementalists who would use their power for evil. We need a way for the ungifted to combat the Death Element. Touched weapons serve this purpose. Also, we cannot always protect ourselves. Even elementalists have vulnerabilities. If we overexert our essence with taming, we can lose consciousness or worse. Having a trained swordsman to protect us against the power of the Elements can mean the difference between life and death.
“Anyway,” Zarah said. “We should eat. Mother will expect us shortly.”
“Oh,” Elwin said. “I forgot.”
He removed the cover and examined the contents on the plate. It looked like eggs, but it had other things stuffed into it. Some sort of meat and fruit or vegetables, maybe. He took a small bite. More flavors than he could place filled his senses. One of the spices made his eyes water, but another spice had a sweet flavor as well. He wasn’t sure that he liked it. But he kept eating it, taking small bites.
Zarah muffled a giggle with her hand. “Do you not like it?”
“I am not sure,” Elwin said honestly. “It’s different.”
He took a drink. “Mmm. This tastes like apples. Almost like cooled cider.”
“That is because it is appled juice. Like cider, it comes from apples, but sugarcane is added with water.”
“I definitely like this.”
When she smiled at him, he found himself wondering how soft her lips would feel. Her eyes consumed his. When the silence stretched on and neither spoke, he became uncomfortable under her gaze.
“I wonder how Feffer is getting on,” he said to break the silence.
Zarah grimaced. “I have seen the way Sir Gibbins trains the novice soldiers. I imagine that he is not having a pleasant time.”
“Oh,” Elwin said. “I wonder when I will get to see him.”
“Not for some time,” she said. “Mother was clear that you are not to go near the soldiers. Some of them are still … Well, it would be better if you would not go near them for a while. Perhaps you should write a letter to Feffer.”
Of course. The soldiers wouldn’t want to see Elwin. He had killed one of theirs. Elwin wasn’t so sure he wanted to see them either.
Perhaps a letter would be better. Zarah was probably exaggerating about the training anyway. Feffer had always enjoyed playing at being a solider. Elwin would bet his favorite book against a copper, Feffer loved the idea of becoming a soldier enough to go through anything. He probably still thought it all a game. At least Feffer would never change.
Elwin smiled.
Chapter 8
Unexpected
Feffer balanced on the tall, wooden post with his left leg straight out behind him and both arms stretched out in front of him. He was atop the fourth post in a row of twelve. The rest of his squad stood atop the others. It had taken a tenday for Gibbins to separate the new recruits into squads, and Feffer hadn’t been grouped with Wilton or anyone else from his town. He only saw the others in passing, but he hadn’t seen his brother since they had been split up. That had been what? More than a month? With all the training, keeping up with the passing of days had become too much of a chore.
Wilton was chosen by Lord Zaak Lifesong, along with several others to train with more experienced soldiers. It didn’t bother Feffer though. Wilton always talked to Feffer like he would mess up. He’d show him.
Besides, he liked most of the others in his group. Everyone except Gurndol.
“Switch!” Sir Gibbins yelled.
Feffer jumped into the air as high as his one leg would take him and maneuvered his legs in the opposite position, landing on his right foot.
“Six.”
This was one of Feffer’s favorite exercises. Wait. What was he thinking? Favorite exercise? Well, he could at least admit to himself that the different routines could be a little fun. At least the ones he was the best at. Which was most of them. In fact, no one in his squad could keep up with him. Well, no one except Gurndol.
“Switch!”
Again, he jumped into the air and performed the maneuver.
“Seven.”
Each new squad had a member of the White Hand overseeing their training. Gibbins chose which group that he trained, and he had made it clear that he chose the group needing the largest amount of special attention.
Feffer heard a thud behind him. He knew who had fallen, before Gibbins yelled the name.
“Fandar, you worthless worm! Ten press-ups, now!”
Fandar came from a village far west of Justice, too small to even make it on the map. Feffer spared a glance back at the large boy on the ground. Taller by a foot than even Feffer and wider than any other recruit, Fandar’s sandy hair shook as he struggled through his press-ups.
On a pedestal in front of him, Feffer heard a derisive snort. He glanced to see Gurndol’s scowl directed at Fandar. Almost as tall as Feffer, Gurndol balanced on his own pedestal with the same lithe grace Feffer himself possessed. Almost. Gurndol’s rear leg swayed with the wind to help maintain balance, while Feffer could keep poised without moving.
When Gurndol’s eyes met his, Gurndol’s scowl deepened. Feffer gave him a smug smile.
Gurndol was from Justice proper. Feffer had heard that he was from a noble family, seventh in line to succession. Even though Gibbins hadn’t named a squad leader, Gurndol already tried to assume the role. And every time anyone made them start over, Gurndol punished him with a prank. They were never friendly pranks. More often than not, the recipient of the malicious deed was Fandar.
The larger boy had a difficult time even doing the ten press-ups. Feffer wanted to do something to help, but there was nothing he could do for him.
“Everyone else gets to start over,” Gibbins announced.
Even though they had all known the command was coming, the other boys joined Gurndol in staring daggers into Fandar, who slunk back to his pedestal and began to scramble up. Gurndol rolled his eyes and shared a look with the others.
Feffer gritted his teeth. He decided that he very much disliked bullies. His pranks had always been for a laugh, but they were harmless. He would put stink weed under a bed or dump water on someone in the middle of summer. Maybe steal a pie or two. He would never fill a pillow sack with soapstone, hold someone in his bunk, and hit him til he cried.
“Switch!”
“One.”
Fandar had bruises all over his mid-section. The worst part was, Gurndol convinced the other squad members to hold Fandar down. The others went along with it because they didn’t want to be singled out. Except maybe Marlin. If not so high and mighty as Gurndol, Marlin was also nobly born, and he seemed to enjoy the pranks. But, without Gurndol’s influence, Feffer doubted Marlin would have been so bad.
Gurndol was the problem. Noble prat. When Feffer tried to stop them from hitting Fandar with the soapstone, Gurndol threatened to do the same to him.
I’d like to see him try.
“What was that, worm?”
Feffer realized that he had spoken aloud when Sir Gibbins was eye to eye with him.
“Did you address me?”
“No, Sir Gibbins.”
“Everyone go get five laps. You can thank Feffer here for speaking out of turn. Then, we get to finish our post stands.”
Feffer hopped from the post and took the lead. One lap consisted of running the length of the fence and back on the far side. Each lap was about a mile. Thanks to the slip of his tongue they would have to run five miles. That was far worse than extra post stands. He would have to grow eyes in the back of his head for the next several days. Maybe his slip would get Fandar off the hook this time.
Gurndol caught up to him. “Always running your mouth, farmboy. It’s going to get you hurt one of these days.”
He had tried to explain to the thick-headed prat that his Da was a merchant not a farmer, but Gurndol didn’t seem to care. Feffer thought about tripping him but didn’t want to even consider the consequences of fighting during a punishment.
I may not be able to sleep well over the next several days, he thought, but by the Lifebringer, I will win this race.
As Feffer sped up, he heard heavy footsteps pick up the pace behind him.
Elwin sat in the wooden chair, leaning on the writing table in front of him. Zarah sat at the desk to his right with her back straight and her hands in her lap. She looked straight ahead, her expression attentive.
In front of him, Jasmine’s voice made a sea of words. He found his mind more intent on the melody in her tone than the meaning of her speech. Preferring to give history lessons, Jasmine still hadn’t spoken of the prophecies.
He knew some of the other things she spoke of were important. For instance, the more common tamings were called talents. Each talent had a specific name, which was useful in combat situations. But why did he need to know where the name lightning hurl originated? Wouldn’t it have been far more useful to learn how to make a veil than to know who first discovered it?
Many tamings had no names. Each elementalist learned his own little tricks with taming that others did not know. No one bothered to name these, or sometimes there were many names for the same taming.
Elwin resisted the urge to look at the contraption in the back of the room. Zarah had called the thing a water clock. Each hour it would chime the number of hours that had passed in the day. Elwin wanted to see the inside to figure out how it worked. When he had mentioned the idea to Zarah, she had told him it was worth a thousand gold crowns. He decided that it would be better not to touch it. Ever. Still, it was a fascinating device.
Elwin had learned to tell time by watching the sun and by reading a sun dial. The clock had been constructed by a dwarven artificer, named Pwintus Tarficer, and had hands that told the hour and minute of the day. It even tracked a tenday. In the center, a plaque of silver rotated inside a square that named each day.
Two more days until Lifeday, the only day of the tenday he wouldn’t have to attend lecture. He was promised the morning to himself, but then he would begin to learn swordplay with Zaak and Zarah. Thus far, every day had consisted of a morning of attempting to sense Zarah’s or Jasmine’s essence with his own, followed by an afternoon of lecture. Playing with a sword would be a nice break from sitting in the hard chair. The seat might as well have been constructed from stone instead of wood.
Mahindra had been true to her word by delivering his two new outfits, and in the days that followed, one or two new sets came each evening for an entire tenday. He couldn’t imagine ever needing that many sets of clothing. But he had to admit, his new trousers were softer than the cotton he was accustomed to wearing, which made the summer heat more bearable. But it did little to cushion his bum from the hard seat. Even his boots were softer, though he could still walk on the stone hallways in them without hurting his feet. Both his trousers and his tunic were a deep blue. He had never owned anything like them.
“Elwin,” Jasmine said. “Are you listening?”
Elwin sat straighter in his seat and nodded, hoping that she didn’t ask him to repeat what she had been saying.
“It is very important that you understand the things that I am telling you. Your life will likely depend on them some day.” She cleared her voice. “As I was saying, there are weapons that exist to deflect the power of the Elements. Others are made to absorb our powers to be used at a later time. These weapons, like your pendant are touched, and they are made by elementalists and used to hunt down those that are Death bound. This is the primary task of the Guardians of Life.”
From the corner of his eye, he noticed a thin smile on Zarah’s lips at the mention of the touched weapons. Elwin did not interrupt Jasmine to tell her that Zarah had already explained touched weapons to him. Jasmine did not slow down to give him the chance anyway.
“These weapons are difficult to make, and they should only be given to those who can be trusted. But several have fallen into nefarious hands. So we must always be aware, because there are those out there who fear you so greatly that they hunt you.
“The Guardians of Life is an order that was founded to preserve elementalists. We entrust them with governing our actions. The laws that they put forth are for our protection. So the people that do not share our powers do not need fear us.
“The laws are not many, and all violations are given a trial. But he who is proven to have willfully broken the law is given a speedy execution. No one will force you to become Life bound, but the Element of Death is forbidden. Those proven to be bound to Death by trial are in violation of the law. Murder by way of the Elements is also forbidden. Using the Elements to compel others to perform actions that lead to the death of others is also a crime.”
She paused. “Are you listening, Elwin?”
Elwin nodded. “So, I really will have a trial?”
Jasmine nodded. “As I said before, it should mostly be a formality. Since I was there to witness the accident, and I am Life bound, you will likely be exonerated. Though, the incident will be filed away, and you will likely be watched. It has not been verified, but there has been rumored to exist a faction within the Guardians, called the warders. One will likely be assigned to you, if such a faction exists.
“Which reminds me, theft by way of the Elements is not strictly forbidden by the Guardians, but one would be wise not to make it a habit. These crimes typically fall to local magistrates, but several suspected Elemental thieves have disappeared. It is likely that this task is given to the warders as well. Any questions?”
“When will this trial be?” Elwin asked.
“I will appear before them this afternoon on your behalf. Hypothetically, which you need to understand for educational purposes, if the inquisitors consider me an unreliable witness, which is not likely, they would seek you out for execution.”
Elwin stood up. “Seek me out execution?”
“I said there is nothing to worry over. If you would like, you can witness the proceedings? Now that you know about the trial, it might be a good lesson for you. I did not suggest it sooner, because I did not want to worry you. But you asked, and I do not make a habit out of lying to my pupils.”
He looked to Zarah, who gave him a tight-lipped smile.
“Should I go too, Mother?”
“Yes,” she said. “I think this will be educational for all.”
Elwin sagged back into his chair. His mind registered Jasmine’s voice, but he didn’t hear her words until she said his name. By her tone, she had spoken his name more than once.
Once his gaze touched hers, she said. “It appears my instincts were right. It is obvious there will be little more instruction until after the trial. Very well, then. Zarah, I will trust you to escort Elwin to the Temple of Life by the sixteenth hour. You two are dismissed.”
After Jasmine left the room, Elwin sat for a minute, trying to sort his thoughts. One word stuck out in his mind the most. Execution. Execution? It had been an accident. Still someone had died.
Zarah leaned over toward him and placed her hand on his. “It will be alright, Elwin. Mother will take care of everything.”
The touch of her hand gave him comfort. When he looked at it, she pulled her hand away. Her cheeks reddened. “My apologies,” Zarah said. “I overstepped myself.”
“No,” Elwin said. “I … um … thank you.” He moved his hand half toward hers on the table.
She smiled and touched her fingers atop his. “You are going to be alright, Elwin. You have a kindness in you. The Guardians will surely see that.”
His eyes lingered o
n hers for several moments. He could feel her heart pulse through the tips of her fingertips on his hand. It seemed as though their hearts beat as one.
“Besides,” she said with a wry smile, “they will know a poor country bumpkin who is in over his head when they see one. They could sooner sacrifice a baby lamb.”
He pulled his hand away from hers and narrowed his eyes. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
She shrugged, never losing her smile. Elwin sighed.
“Mother is not worried,” she said. “So you should not be either. You will be fine.”
“I killed a man, Zarah.”
Her wry smile faded into a thin grimace and any sign of amusement left her eyes. “It was an accident. It was tragic, but it was not your fault.”
“Did he have a family?”
There was a moment of silence. When she answered, her voice was soft. “I heard Father tell Mother that Biron was from a farm with a large family.”
Elwin wasn’t sure why, but that made it worse.
“Are you sure you want to go to the trial?”
He met her gaze. Her smile held more concern than he deserved, but looking into her eyes made him feel like he could have done anything. Finally, he nodded.
“I need to be there. I need to see Biron’s family and tell them I’m sorry.”
“We should go, then. The trial will begin within the hour.”
An hour. Elwin took a deep breath. Within the hour, he would face the inquisitor. No one from his hometown had ever been taken to trial, so he only knew what he had heard in stories. He had thought only those unfortunate few who pledged their souls to the Seeker faced such a trial.
Had he stayed in Benedict, would his friends and neighbors have turned against him? After Biron’s death, they had looked at him as if a stranger or some dangerous creature. Their downcast eyes and accusing stares lingered in his mind. Would they have scrawled a dragon on the door of his father’s farm in accusation of his lost soul?
A sudden fear gripped him. What if the inquisitor found him guilty? Word would reach Benedict. What would happen to his parents? His grandparents?