“We will see. I expect you’ll be reporting our every movement to your father. No doubt he loves having a spy in our midst,” Chalmer said. He jerked the chain forward and pulled the two manacled boys into the center of the room. “Here are house five’s final two recruits.”
He reached up and hung the chain on a thick iron latch on the room’s center rafter. He then put a lock through a pair of links, binding the chain to the latch.
“You are all confined to quarters for the rest of the day. Please make yourselves at home,” Chalmer said. He slammed the door as he left.
The two new arrivals were polar opposites. One was short and slight of build with wild grey eyes. He fought against his restraints, trying to slip his bony wrist out of them. The other was a hulking brute who looked at least two years older than any of the other boys. He crossed his thick forearms over his barreled chest and studied each of the other boys in turn. He completely ignored the heavy manacle fastened around his own wrist.
“I’m Kag,” he said. “From now on, I’ll be running this squad.”
Well. With them focused on Kag, they may forget what Chalmer said, Dain prayed.
“And who is your friend?” Niles asked.
Kag’s head swiveled to the slight boy and he jerked their shared chain to bring him close. “This is Falion, a thief.”
“Thief? Why would they let a thief into the Brigades?” Strale asked.
“Is there something wrong with being a thief?” Kag returned in a menacing tone. “Something about them not being good enough to be here?”
“Why are you shackled?” Dain asked.
The bigger boy turned to him and grinned. “Well, little lordling, that bastard, Chalmer, took us out of prison but kept us chained. That way Falion won’t try and run off like he did last time.”
“Last time?” Trysen asked.
“Last night we were both in here waiting for the training to begin and Falion broke us out and we escaped. Would have made it except a merchant caught him snatching a few loaves of bread. I had to rescue Falion, and was giving the merchant a beating when the city guard nabbed us. They tossed us in irons, and then that black-souled bastard came and picked us up this morning.”
“We’ll be punished for this,” Strale said.
“What? What do you mean punished?” Dremble asked, eyes wide.
“The squad is punished for the actions of its members. If Falion stole and if Kag fought, we will all be punished as a squad,” Dain said.
“That isn’t right,” Trysen said.
Dain shrugged again. “It doesn’t matter, that’s how the Order works. You are responsible for your brothers and you share in their punishments. That’s why they sort recruits into squads in the first place. The better your squad, the more likely you are to pass.”
And it doesn’t look like we have a prayer, he thought. How had he ended up in a squad of misfits like this one?
Zek and Niles and even little Strale seemed to want to be here, but he was already off to a bad start with the others. Clearly jealous of his knowledge and now his birthright, Dremble and Trysen were shooting daggers at him with their eyes, Falion looked as if he’d bolt the second he saw another opportunity, and Kag had seemed like trouble from the first moment he’d been dragged through the door.
There couldn’t be a worse squad in the entire class. It was almost like someone had taken all the worst recruits and put them in the same house.
Two hours of strained silence later, a knock rang out on the door. Zek, the closest in bunk one, opened it. A plainclothes steward entered and placed a tray on the room’s small table. He removed plates and silverware from a pouch at his front and spread them out on the table’s side.
“Aren’t we eating in the mess hall with the other recruits?” Dain asked.
“Orders from Lord Chalmer. Punishment for a runaway,” the steward said. “He said you are all still confined to quarters and you are to dine alone tonight and tomorrow as well.”
He slid the tray open to reveal a bowl of congealed, greyish mash. “Potatoes and a bit of gravy. You’ll be having the same for the next two days.”
“That’s it? Potatoes? That’s all we’re allowed?” Zek asked.
The steward paused at the door, heaved a long sigh, and hung his head.
“Look, I’ve never heard of such a thing. Punishing boys on the first day. Tomorrow’ll be worse, though. I’m not allowed to bring you more. After your first day of training you’ll be starving. These potatoes ain’t half as nourishing as what you’ll need, but orders is orders. So eat what you can today,” he said. “Lord Chalmer said there would be additional discipline for fighting. That’ll be handed out tomorrow.”
The steward drew the door closed and Dain heard him call the other squads to dinner.
“I’ll dole out the food in equal portions,” Niles said.
“No you won’t,” Kag said. “I’m biggest, so I’ll get the largest amount. Everyone else can eat after I do.”
“Like hell,” Trysen said. He winked at Dremble and the other boy joined him at the bowl. “You can’t reach us or the table with your ‘leash’ there. You’ll get whatever we give you. Besides, it sounds like we’re missing out on a feast, and it’s you and your little friend’s fault.”
“Try it. I won’t be on the chain forever, and when I’m not, I’ll pound you,” Kag said. He held up a meaty fist.
“He is not my friend,” Falion said. This was the first time the slender boy had spoken. His voice sounded calm, but his eyes continued to dart restlessly around the room.
Dain noticed that although Falion’s eyes shifted often, they kept touching on the trunk closest to the table. Searching…he’s searching for a way to escape, Dain realized. Some means to pick the lock. Dain had once seen an escape artist in a traveling circus. He’d marveled at the man’s ability to pick any lock presented to him. His father even bet the man a gold mark he couldn’t open an iron chest that he’d found in a troll hoard. Two minutes later, the chest had been open. Inside was a small bag of rubies, and Dain’s father had tipped the man with one of them in addition to the gold.
“Best investment I’ve ever made,” Lord Harren had claimed. He’d told the story for years afterward and with each telling the chest seemed to hold more gems.
Strale divided the meal into eight even portions. Each boy took one, and Dain placed a bowl on the floor and nudged it into Kag’s reach.
Kag snatched up the bowl immediately and shoveled the food into his mouth.
Dain held the other bowl ready for Falion and saw Kag smiling deviously over his spoon.
“Go ahead,” the large boy said. “Hand it to him. See what happens. He’s smart. He knows what a pounding I can give.”
Dain set the bowl back on the table. He moved to the chest he guessed was Falion’s. The lock was gone, and he flipped the lid open. Inside was a small pouch that rattled when he lifted it. Falion’s eyes narrowed as soon as he saw it, stopping their darting. His mouth tightened but he said nothing.
Dain tossed the bag to him, and when Kag tried to intercept it, Falion struck like a snake and snagged it before the bigger boy could. In an instant he whisked a curved pick out and dropped the pouch into his shirt. Four seconds later, his shackle hung free and he sat on a bed rubbing at his wrist.
“You’re welcome,” Dain said. “Now have your bowl.”
CHAPTER NINE
“How did you know about my tools?” Falion asked. He gave Dain a sidelong look.
The sun had yet to fully rise and only the two of them were awake. The others slept soundly with low snores or, in Strale’s case, a faint wheeze.
“Your eyes kept returning to the chest. I knew you’d escaped once and figured you might have left a backup tool in your chest, just in case,” Dain said.
> Falion nodded. “Clever.”
“So now what?”
“Now I wait for the right moment and make my escape. This time I won’t take Kag with me.”
Falion shifted to watch the snoring boy. After he’d threatened and screamed at all of them some more, they’d left him chained to the latch all night. He’d finally fallen asleep with one arm held over his head and his back to one of the building’s support columns.
“He’s too big and slow. He’s the real reason I got caught. I could take you, I suppose,” Falion continued. “You seem to have a measure of wits. I could use the help.”
“I’m here to stay. I came by choice. Actually, I had to fight for the right to join,” Dain said.
“I withdraw my comment on your wits, then.”
Dain chuckled. “And what’s your story, Falion? You should be free to leave whenever you want. Unless you didn’t join by choice.”
“Oh no, I joined by choice all right,” Falion said, smiling up at the ceiling. “I chose to join instead of prison. Kag had the same choice. They were going to send us both to Illiack.”
“The prison island? You?”
“I’m a very good thief. I’ve broken out of the Emperor’s prison here in Karelton five times already. Last time the guards were taking bets on how long it would take me.” Falion shivered. “But there’s no breaking out of that island, and even if there were, I can’t swim.”
“I’ve heard only rumors about Illiack.”
“Mostly true, I expect. Shark-infested waters, supply ships only once a month, and a blockade by the royal fleet. They only send the absolute worst to Illiack. The guards are brutal; they too are the Emperor’s worst. Escape is impossible, but most of the convicts don’t last long enough to worry about that. First you have to survive the other prisoners. Many don’t.”
“That sounds…difficult.” Dain shifted his weight. “If you escape the Order or even try again, they’ll punish all of us, you know.”
Falion leveled a frank stare at Dain. “I’m thankful for your help, truly, but I have no desire to offer my services to the Light. I will stay until I’m ready to leave. The meal wasn’t too bad, though. I’ve had much worse and often nothing at all.”
Dain started to speak again but was interrupted by the door flying inward once more. It banged against the wall like a boulder from a catapult smashing into a city’s walls.
“Rise and shine, recruits!” a too-cheerful voice boomed. “This is your first day of training.”
A shaggy bear of a man entered the house. He was unkempt, his beard rough and long and matching the tangled mane on his head. He whipped the blankets off each bunk as he passed by them, then stopped in front of Kag. “Whose idea was this? Which one of you sorry clods thought it would be funny to chain him up?”
“Lord Chalmer brought him in like that, sir. He left him chained up,” Dain said.
The bear eyed the empty set of manacles and grimaced.
“That appears not to have stopped one of you from getting out,” he said. “Why didn’t you free your squadmate?”
“I escaped,” Falion volunteered. “The chain was a bit loose on me and I pulled out of it.”
Dain cringed, expecting the lie to be caught, but then noticed the manacle had been refastened. Falion must have snapped it closed after he escaped. Kag’s mouth opened and Dain thought he’d spoil the lie, but the big boy must have thought better of it. Maybe he thinks he’ll skip today’s drills if he’s chained up, Dain reasoned. No, more likely he thinks keeping Falion’s secret will make escape easier.
“I am your drill leader, Sergeant Chaney,” the bearlike man said. He spotted the thick serving spoon from last night’s dinner and snatched it up. The spoon started to glow a crackling yellow in his grip. He smacked the spoon against Kag’s manacle, shattering the clasp. “And we will begin our exercises now.”
The boys froze. Even though Dain had seen Kilian and other Paladins charge their weapons with Light, he couldn’t imagine the level of control Chaney had just demonstrated. Too little Light and the manacle wouldn’t shatter; too much and Kag’s wrist would be broken or worse. Chaney had used the perfect amount without a moment’s thought.
“I SAID NOW,” Chaney bellowed.
The day began with a four-mile run before a heaping bowl of more potato gruel. After a wolfed-down breakfast, the recruits headed out to the practice field for evaluation in swordwork.
Dain was last in line and, as he waited, he inspected the other squads. In total there were over a hundred boys this year; less than half of what Kilian expected. If recruiting is down this much, that might explain why Kag and Falion are being forced to serve. Dain wondered if any of the other squads had boys like them.
He watched the boys ahead take turns squaring off with Chaney. Many held their wooden swords awkwardly, either with a grip too loose or too tight. Most also held their weapons extended so that they were off-balance and unable to strike forward. The sergeant moved through a series of basic attacks, intentionally smacking their swords and judging how they reacted. After a few strikes he sped the tempo up, hitting their swords first and then their shoulders or bellies.
Probably judging their reflexes, Dain reasoned. Chaney was talented, though he wasn’t as quick as Thave; even Kilian wasn’t that fast, and Dain had sparred with his tutor daily.
When it was his turn he held the sword back, not too close to his body and free to strike forward. Chaney’s eyes narrowed a bit. He struck, and Dain moved and parried.
The sword was positioned well, but the strength of Chaney’s blow shocked him. The sergeant struck from the opposite side and Dain adjusted his feet for better leverage.
Again, a solid parry.
Chaney’s sword started to flash faster, seeming to strike from everywhere at once. Dain blocked the blows, but each landed like a punch to the stomach and he was soon panting for breath. His arms trembled with exertion.
Chaney’s mouth curled up into a half-smile and he stopped striking.
“Good,” he said. “But if you find yourself fighting a stronger opponent, dodge and save your strength so he won’t wear you down.”
Still out of breath, Dain only nodded.
Lunch was the same formless gruel, and afterward they practiced sword forms on the equipment in the yard. Strike, move, strike, move, strike. They hit the wooden targets again and again, Chaney offering criticism and encouragement as he walked from boy to boy until the practice yard emptied and their house was the only squad remaining.
“Now, take three fast laps around the barracks and then meet me in the mess hall,” Chaney said.
“But the other Paladin told us—” Zek started.
“The mess hall after three fast laps, I said.”
Dremble was the first to finish, with Dain and Zek coming in a close second and third. Dain’s legs burned. His lungs burned, too, a flame fueled with every breath, and his arms felt like they were wrapped in lead chains. They stopped at the practice yard and waited for the others, Kag bringing up the rear almost ten minutes after the others, and then the squad dragged their feet into the main building. A stream of older boys poured from one hallway, and Dain stopped one to ask for directions.
By the time they got to the mess the other squads were gone. A scattering of candles glowed in the hall, giving it a ghostly look. Chaney waited for them at the head of a small table, and a covered plate sat at each of the nine chairs.
Expecting gruel again and tired beyond measure, each boy collapsed into his chair. None moved.
“Waiting for permission?” Chaney asked. The sergeant opened his own plate. A cloud of warm steam billowed out. It melted away to reveal a thick slab of roast, bright-orange carrots, a pile of rice, and a huge buttered roll. “Go on and eat.”
The magnificent aroma
wafted around the room and Dain felt his stomach rumble. He was almost afraid to lift his own lid and find only potato gruel waiting again. To his right, Falion lifted the cover to his plate. He smiled and pounced into his own roast.
Chaney laughed. “Well, are you going to just watch him? Go on and eat.”
The first mouthful of roast melted like butter in Dain’s mouth. Lids and plates clanged around him as the other boys laughed and ate. The food was better than any he’d ever had. Even the carrots, which he normally avoided, were spectacular. When he realized his plate was empty, he chewed the last bite for a full minute, extracting every bit of flavor before swallowing.
“Chalmer was wrong to keep you from the hall on your first day. In the field and in the days ahead, you will know hunger, but there’s no reason to starve you on your first real day of training,” Chaney said. He finished off his roll. “And as for additional discipline for fighting, I think we’ll pass on that one since you weren’t even proper recruits yet.
“But if you do it again,” he pointed a thick, hairy-knuckled finger at Kag, “I will see to your punishment myself, and the rest of the squad,” he swung the finger to include everyone, “will be punished right along with you. There will be plenty of time for fighting later.”
Unsure of what to do next, the boys stood, ready to return to their beds. More than a few yawned as they started to shuffle off.
“Gladstone, a moment,” Chaney said.
Dain paused, using the chair’s back to hold himself upright. Every inch of his body felt sore. Strale, the last in line, stopped at the door and looked back at him, then disappeared after the others.
“I won’t force squadleader on you if you don’t want it,” Chaney said without preamble. “It may just complicate your situation here.”
Too tired to think, Dain blurted out the first thing that sprang to mind. “I do want it. Besides, I don’t know that there’s anyone better suited to it.” That sounded a bit pompous, he thought after the words had left his mouth. It’s true, though.
Paladin's Fall: Kingdom's Forge Book 2 Page 14