“Stay with me?”
Gwaynn nodded.
ǂ
Gwaynn stayed with her all that afternoon and evening. Late that night she held him captive with her large brown eyes and nearly begged him not to leave her. Her pleas reminded him so much of his twin sister Gwynn that he could not help but relent and stay the night. Alynn, Pugg’s wife, brought Gwaynn a blanket and he moved a second cot close to Vio’s. Lying there, he held her hand as he had his sister’s, back when they were younger and he was so afraid of the dark.
He was surprised how nice her hand felt in his and in the dark he was extremely aware of her breathing and any tiny movement she made, which given her injuries, where few. Despite her pain and injuries Vio fell asleep quickly. Gwaynn rested quietly beside her thinking and listening to her slow even breathing. He was tired himself but it took several hours for him to finally relax and follow her in the world of dreams.
He woke suddenly and fully, at first unaware of where he was exactly. Vio’s hand was still loosely in his, and for a long moment he believed it to be Gwynn’s. He lay still; at a loss as to why he had awakened so quickly, but then he became aware of another presence in the tent. At first he suspected it was Pugg, or perhaps Alynn come to check on Vio, but whoever was present was moving too carefully, too stealthily to be a friend. Without thinking Gwaynn grabbed his kali from under his cot and jumped to his feet. It was not completely dark; the interior of the tent was lit very dimly by the large gibbon moon, which allowed Gwaynn to see the dark outline of the attacker.
“Who is there?” Gwaynn challenged loudly, as he moved from the cot to stand in between Vio and the stranger.
No answer came except for a quick attack from the dark figure before him. Gwaynn sensed rather than saw the blow coming. He sidestepped and parried it with his left hand. Two more quick blows came at him, one missed completely and Gwaynn instinctively blocked the other. He could still see the vague outline of his enemy though only his arms and head stood out against the relative brightness of the tent walls.
“Gwaynn!” Vio whispered urgently through the pain in her mouth, awaken by the clash of swords.
Gwaynn made no answer; his entire concentration was on his dark, nameless opponent. Another blow came and again Gwaynn blocked it, not moving away, not giving any ground, stubbornly remaining between the attacker and the helpless girl behind him.
The assassin before him attempted to circle past, but Gwaynn moved easily to block his way. But when the next attack came it was relentless and though Gwaynn managed to block many of the blows, one grazed his chin and another hammer blow fell against his right thigh. He grunted as it landed and fell off to the left, not feeling pain, but knowing that he had taken a serious injury to his leg. He knew he was in trouble if the fight continued for much longer.
His attacker, however, did not press his advantage but instead darted past Gwaynn and made a lunging attack at Vio.
“Gwynn!” Gwaynn yelled, confused.
Vio saw the attack coming, gasped and lunged from the cot and onto the floor. She landed with a yelp of pain, but the blow missed her and she was safe for a moment, the cot shielding her from her assailant.
Gwaynn moved forward as the attacker reached down, and roughly tossed the cot aside, then prepared the killing blow to the girl at his feet.
Gwaynn must have made some noise, however, because at the last minute the dark shape turned to face him. Gwaynn did not care. It was his turn to attack. He was suddenly wide-awake and very angry, tired of having those who cared for him killed and taken away. He moved in with no fear, no hesitation. His attack came in three furious blows, the first throwing his opponents left kali from his grip the next ringing strongly against the right and the third slicing threw the neck of the dark shape before him.
In the darkness, Gwaynn saw the figure before him stagger. His lone kali fell with a thud to the grass floor of the tent. A strange sucking sound could be heard, as if someone was trying to pull a boot free from the mud, then the head of the stranger flopped back as if on a hinge. The body wavered for a moment then fell straight down and slightly on top of Vio. She screamed…loudly.
Gwaynn stood completely still, staring at the dark mass lying before him, as Vio continued to scream, though how long it took him to become aware that she was screaming his name, he could not have said. He had killed. He had taken someone else’s life. It was a shock and the feel of it was completely different from the way he had always dreamed it would be. Throughout his early childhood, he’d played at war; played at battle and killing. As a child, he’d saved countless damsels, slain more enemies than could be counted, and always in his daydreams he had felt victorious, strong, and happy. Now, however, in the reality of the event, he felt slightly nauseous, dizzy, and….happy.
The tent finally came into the light and Gwaynn realized there were people around him. Pugg and Alynn were suddenly there bending and helping Vio from beneath the corpse. Tar Kostek and Amon silently studying him, and Tar Nev, one hand on Gwaynn’s shoulder and the other running through his own bushy hair. As always, there was a slight smile on the face of his teacher.
Gwaynn moved forward as if in a dream, wanting to know the identity of his attacker, wanting it to be Navarra as he never wanted anything else in his life, for then some of the pain in his life would be over, behind him. He limped forward, bent and saw instantly that it was not the Executioner; it was instead B’dall of the Deutzani, this year’s katas champion.
XI
The following morning Gwaynn found himself bandaged up and on board the Carol-Anne, on his way to Lato Island. As he suspected, he had a serious stab wound in his right thigh, but Alynn cleaned it and carefully placed a poultice of moss and other herbs directly on the wound to pull out any possible infection and to aid the healing process, then she wrapped his thigh tightly.
“You clean this every other day, and pack it in tightly,” Alynn instructed giving him a small bag filled with bandages and the wet moss.
“We’ll see he’s taken care of,” Nev said and Gwaynn noticed the shy look of respect Alynn gave the Tar.
Gwaynn thought he might have some deep reservations about boarding another trireme after his last experience, but now as he lay comfortably in a hammock on the bustling deck he felt no such apprehension. He was not surprised to find that he had complete confidence in Jon, for it was obvious that the man knew his way around his ship. Gwaynn watched as the crew loaded the last of the goods and supplies that they would be taking with them. The pace was a bit frantic because the launch was a few days early, but Jon, at Nev’s urging, quickly made arrangements for their departure. They could have made the trip by Traveler, but Jon would not hear of it, and insisted that he be allowed to ferry them the thirty miles east to the island of the Scholars.
Gwaynn sat quietly out of the way, enjoying the blue skies, the soft breezes and the pleasant smells of the sea. He watched quietly as the crew loaded and stored their goods and ware. Nev was off attending some business of his own, but assured Gwaynn he would be back well before they were scheduled to pull anchor. Gwaynn didn’t mind he needed some time alone to think. He went through the battle with B’dall over and over again in his mind, sifting through what he could remember, concentrating on the points where he’d made the mistakes that had led to his injures. He had no illusions that he was indestructible, and knew that with only a few minor changes, he would be the one now lying dead in the tent. He had been lucky…good yes, but also lucky.
“Nev also likes time with his thoughts after he has killed,” Jon said taking a seat on the deck next to Gwaynn without asking, but Gwaynn hardly felt that the man had to ask; after all, it was his ship. Jon sat, flipping a knife over and over again, catching it by the handle deftly in his palm each time.
“I keep going over the fight in my mind,” Gwaynn said, watching the twirling knife.
Jon nodded, and took a moment to direct a sailor storing rope near the main hold. “Yes, I thought from the look on
your face you just might be.”
Jon cocked his head. “Tell me Gwaynn, how old are you now?”
Gwaynn frowned; surprised that he had to think about it before answering. He and Gwynn were about month and a half from their sixteenth birthday when Solarii fell and Gwynn had died. He had turned sixteen shortly after arriving on Noble Island. “What day is it?” He finally asked.
“You don’t know what day it is?” Jon asked with a smile. This lad was going to go far. Jon could tell he was all business, but then Jon had never known his brother to make a rash decision.
Gwaynn shook his head with a rueful smile of his own, and then his face lit up. The Competitions were always held mid March, culminating on the fifteenth, the ids. “March sixteenth?” he asked tentatively.
Jon laughed and slapped his leg. “Close my man, it is the eighteenth,” he said and threw the knife up high, spinning quickly before catching it again.
“Well that would make me sixteen. I won’t turn seventeen until July first,” he said not smiling, his thoughts turning melancholy. It was hard to believe that nearly a year had past since Gwynn’s death, his Mother’s death, and that awful day on the scaffold. He thought about it in silence for a spell, reliving those last horrible moments. In some ways it seemed a lifetime ago, and in another way it seemed only yesterday. Time, he thought with a haunted laugh. It was like time moved at different speeds…at least in him, in his memories and thoughts.
Gwaynn’s eyes suddenly widened as his mind plunged over the falls of understanding. If he could control himself, he could control time, speed it up, slow it down. At first it did not seem possible, but he knew subconsciously his mind had already achieved the impossible countless times. During moments of intense concentration, pressure and action, came such clarity of thought that it was beyond time. When he was under duress or endangered, time seemed to slow and even stand still. He relived the fight with B’dall once more, focusing on the moment of his attack. Time had slowed in the dark tent. He remembered back, to the moment he knew what B’dall would do next; he remembered being in control. He concentrated on the moment when the fight began to slow. At first nothing appeared to happen and then Gwaynn closed his eyes reliving the fight on the beach with Navarra, the Executioner. He still felt the sea breeze, could feel the rocking of the ship, and through the twine of the hammock he could feel the vibrations caused by the footfalls of the crew around him, but all of this slowly faded as he remembered and relived.
Gwaynn opened his eyes suddenly. The breeze was gone, but more eerily so was the sound of the lapping sea against the ship and the sounds of the crew around him. All about him, complete silence. It made Gwaynn shiver as he glanced around. Jon was talking to him, but his mouth was moving very slowly and no sound was coming from his mouth. The knife he was flipping was near its apex, hardly turning. Even Jon’s hair was barely rippling in the stillness. Gwaynn smiled. He could feel in his mind what to do. He understood completely now that Nev was not keeping the feather from falling at all. The feather continued to fall just as it always had. Time indeed had split in two, one path moved quickly and the other much, much slower. Gwaynn felt a swift and suddenly awe for the man who’d chosen to be his teacher. Gwaynn flexed his mind, adjusting his own time frame and Jon paused and then talked slower still, until Gwaynn could barely discern any movement from the man beside him at all.
To Gwaynn, the entire world suddenly became surreal. This could not be happening. But it was, and more than that, it was easy. Gwaynn smiled and yelled out for joy. The sound of his voice was hollow, dead. He heard it only through the interior of his body and not through the air itself. He frowned, shivered again, and attempted to climb from the hammock. Pain shot through his injured leg, so he settled back down, but he did lean over and carefully snatch the knife out of mid-air, before fully reclining back once more. Gwaynn smiled and concentrated on returning his pace of time to normal, but for a long moment nothing happened. Time was still passing slowly. Panic flashed through Gwaynn and he had visions of going through his life alone, surrounded by a motionless world, but then all at once Jon was talking, the ship was rocking and the breeze was blowing against his face. Gwaynn’s stomach gave a sharp jolt; much like when he’d stumbled at the top of a long staircase back home.
“Ah!” Jon said in surprise, actually glancing around for the missing knife.
Gwaynn grinned, but then doubled over in pain. His stomach felt hollow and his hands were shaking badly. He looked up at Jon, who was staring at the knife in Gwaynn’s hand with a mixture of fear and awe that Gwaynn was not at all sure he liked. The large man’s breathing was coming in gasps, and without warning his face darkened with anger.
“That…” he sputtered, “is not very polite.”
Gwaynn’s mouth popped open.
“I’d have thought my brother would have taught you better,” Jon added still angry. “A bit of warning before you do your parlor tricks would be nice.”
“I’m sorry,” Gwaynn answered and felt another cramping pain rip through his abdomen. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“Frighten me,” Jon bellowed indignantly. “I’m not frightened, just startled is all. Knife bloody disappeared on me mid-throw. Thought I was going to cut myself. Nev was always pulling such nonsense back in his younger days. Mother never could get used to it. And let me tell you,” he added pointing a large dirty finger at Gwaynn. “None of us much cared for it.”
“I’m sorry,” Gwaynn repeated. “I wasn’t even sure it would work. It was my first time.”
“Your first time?” Jon exclaimed, his turned to be surprised. “Well, you seem to have got it down quite right. My brother couldn’t have done better.”
Gwaynn smiled weakly at this.
“Suppose now you’re bleeding hungry?”
Gwaynn nodded. “Famished,” he managed to say in the middle of another gripping cramp. He found it hard to believe that slowing time for such a small duration could take so much out of him after all, he had barely even moved.
Jon laughed. “Serve you right if I just let you starve,” he quipped, but he stood and moved aft, then quickly returned with some hardtack and salted pork, plus a skin of fresh water. Gwaynn ate it all in silence and without pause. Jon had to fetch food two more times before Gwaynn felt sated. When he was finished he promptly fell into the deepest sleep in nearly a year.
ǂ
Nev woke him late that evening. Gwaynn was surprised that he had slept the entire morning and afternoon away, and was even more incredulous when he realized that the Carol-Anne had already left the dock and was well across the harbor. Stars were just beginning to appear in the sky with regularity as Gwaynn hobbled over and leaned against the railing next to Nev and together they watched the lights of Euter disappear in their wake.
All around them, the crew of the Carol-Anne were hard at work, some pulling oars and others working the rigging until they cleared Noble Island and moved out farther into the Inland Sea. Jon was barking orders while handling the steering oar himself. He guided them smoothly along the northern shore of the island that had been Gwaynn’s home for the past year, and except for the lights of Euter, it was an indistinguishable dark mass gliding slowly past.
“Jon tells me you’ve been doing tricks,” Nev said leaning carelessly over the railing in order to watch the spray of the sea in the moonlight.
Gwaynn smiled, but in the darkness no one noticed. “Just one,” he answered softly.
“And?”
“It nearly killed me,” Gwaynn answered, exaggerating.
“And?”
“It is not something to be done lightly.”
“No, a talent used only when necessary, to finish a fight or run away from one,” Nev answered. “It would be disastrous otherwise.”
Gwaynn nodded, completely agreeing. If he had moved through the fabric of time much longer he was sure he would have lost all his strength.
“We will practice on Lato. You must be able to concentrate whi
le otherwise distracted.”
“When will we get to Lato?”
Nev smiled. “Not long, maybe three hours. We will be there long before sunrise, but Jon will not dock until daylight. One more thing, you must not perform any tricks for the Scholars even though at times you may want to very badly.”
Nev paused for such a long time that Gwaynn thought he was done making his point, but then with a deep breath he continued.
“Most Scholars are a bit full of themselves, and though they possess great knowledge, they are undisciplined, timid and mostly avoid any kind of action,” he explained. “They will not hesitate to share their opinion, however, nor will they hold their tongue if they believe you are in the wrong. Don’t let their arrogance bait you.”
“I won’t,” Gwaynn answered, his mind already churning over the strange warning.
ǂ
Gwaynn wasn’t sure he would be able to sleep that night, but he did, and well. However he woke while it was still dark, with the sun just bringing a hint of light to the east. He limped up on deck surprised to find both Jon and Nev already awake.
“Ah, come lad. You must see this,” Jon barked in the stillness of the night. “Awe inspiring it is.”
Gwaynn joined them at the rail and waited. No other words were spoken. The three of them watched as the sky slowly brightened and illuminated first the dim outline of what was to be the new island in Gwaynn’s life. He could just make out the circle of the harbor which surrounding the ship on three sides. Taking his cue from the two older men, he remained quiet.
Little by little the land before them came into focus in the cool morning air. Gwaynn could make out the forested hills plainly against the brightening sky, colorless at first but then the sun broke the horizon and flashed a spotlight on the tips of the highest land mass. First the greens of the trees, brilliant in the clear morning air, sprang out
The Black Horseman Page 19