“Here we are,” Mern said. He stopped before an oak door at the tower’s top. A tapestry showing the triumphant Palatine hung above it. The lifeless head of Atraxas hung in the mighty hero’s grip, a crowd kneeling before him.
Mern knocked.
“Come in,” a gruff voice answered.
The clerk entered first and spoke to the man inside before Dain could see anything but his guide’s back. “I’ve a first year with me. He’s worried about his sergeant, says he’s struggling to fulfill his duties. The Sovereign is meeting with the Emperor, so I brought him to you, sir.”
“By all means see him in, then. I will be happy to see what I can do.”
Too late, Dain recognized the voice and his mistake. How could I have been so foolish?
Chalmer smiled at him over his steepled fingers.
“Recruit Gladstone, I am surprised. You’re having trouble with Chaney, I take it? I will be happy to listen to your complaint,” he said. “Mern, thank you for bringing this recruit to me. I assure you I can handle it from here. You may return to your post now.”
Mern nodded and retreated, closing the door behind him.
“So Lord Harren Gladstone’s spy has a problem with his sergeant,” Chalmer smiled. “Do tell.”
Dain froze. He couldn’t imagine the enormity of the mistake he’d made talking to Mern. But it hadn’t been the clerk’s fault. Likely he doesn’t realize how badly Chalmer hates me, and if Chaney is correct, hates Chaney, as well. And now what do I tell him? Anything I say will be used to hurt us both.
“I am concerned for Sergeant Chaney,” Dain started, seeing no way out.
Feigning concern, Chalmer knit his brows and took out a quill. He dipped it in ink and started to write. “And why is that?”
“It’s his leg, sir. He’s having trouble with it locking up. I’m sure you know of his condition,” Dain said. No point trying another lie, better to stick with this one, he reasoned. Two lies in one day. The Light’s tenets spoke strongly against lying. I’m sorry, Creator.
“I see,” Chalmer said. He scribbled something and then stopped to stare at Dain. “Anything else? Any other problems with Chaney?”
“No, sir. Just that. He doesn’t want to report it to the infirmary is all, and I’m concerned about him.”
Chalmer didn’t reply, and the air in the room seemed to grow colder. He stared at Dain with a dark gaze and a growing smirk.
“I thought you would be in here to complain about Chaney’s drinking,” Chalmer said at last. “Or perhaps his dereliction of duty regarding your training and that of your squad. I thought you might also complain about how your squad is destroying itself from the inside.”
Dain felt his eyes widen, and he struggled to school his expression. He knew. He knew everything.
Chalmer’s smile was like a wolf’s snarl.
“Oh yes, I know all about your little squad. See, wee lordling, I put that squad together personally.” He chuckled. “I was against allowing prisoners into service, but I lost that vote.” A sharp flash of anger crossed Chalmer’s features. “So then I decided to put all of my bad eggs into one basket. The two criminals, those idiotic poor boys, the sons of a couple of rival lords, a hopeless weakling, and the spy. Then I handed them to a cripple.
“You see, that’s how you stop a contagion. You put all the infected people in one building, sealing it up tight, and then you burn it to the ground. Much easier than healing the sick person-to-person. You simply purge all the unclean away in one fell swoop.”
Chalmer laughed and rose from his desk. He stared out the window and gazed over the practice yard and the Emperor’s tower beyond.
“So, my suggestion for your little problem…” He turned and faced Dain again, a feverish light in his eyes. “My offer is this: Leave. Quit and go home. Quit now before you disgrace yourself. Tell your father I have won and he doesn’t even know it yet. Even now, the pieces move into place.”
Dain found himself considering it. Hadn’t he just been thinking of this? Why put in all the work here just to fail during the trials? It might prove better to quit now than to fail outright. He could go home and reconcile with his father. Kilian could teach him to wield the Light. Thave could help him with his swordwork and studies.
No. He shook his head. No, he couldn’t.
“I won’t quit,” Dain said, finding his voice. He’d fought too hard and sacrificed too much to get here. He wouldn’t quit for anyone; not his father, and certainly not for a man like Chalmer. He had to finish and make his family and his ancestors proud.
“Then go back to your bunk, and know that I have already won,” Chalmer said, dismissing him with a wave. “It matters little. You and your squad will fail the test and you’ll leave in even greater disgrace.”
“I won’t fail,” Dain said. And why does he insist that he’s already “won”? What has he won, exactly?
Chalmer laughed. “Your family is rife with failures. Your father and his barbaric ways. Your mother and the traitor blood in her veins. The Emperor should have executed all of you years ago.”
Dain forced himself to walk and not run out, slamming the door behind him. He could hear Chalmer laughing through the wood.
This would not stand. He would not allow Chalmer to drum him out. He passed by Mern’s empty desk and headed straight for Chaney’s quarters in the other wing.
Years ago, Kilian had shown him one of the Order’s secrets; one that they would punish him for if they knew. He called on that secret now.
Without slowing, Dain took a small warhammer off the wall. He stood before Chaney’s door and focused on the Light like Kilian had taught him. He drew it in and felt the blazing heat rise in his chest. His own rage felt like molten lava by comparison. How dare they try to drum him out? How dare they accuse his family of treason? He directed the power through his arm and into the hammer’s head.
He brought the hammer down on Chaney’s door with a grunt. The door exploded inward in a shower of slivers none bigger than a man’s thumb.
Chaney sat on his bunk, head down, a half-empty bottle of rum in his lap.
“You could have just knocked,” he said. He tipped the bottle and took a swig. “You want one?”
“No. I’m looking for my sergeant. Have you seen him? Cause all I’ve seen lately is a drunk in his place,” Dain said, his rage still coursing through him in hot waves.
“Drunk, hmm?” Chaney said. “Creative, boy, creative. Better men than you have tried to help me. Bental himself was in here before he left. Called me a coward. Me. I saved him twice when we took Thistleton’s first wall and he calls me coward. Pompous bastard.” Chaney took a second hit of the amber liquid. “Who taught you that, anyway? You shouldn’t have learned to charge weapons already.”
Might as well tell him, Dain thought, feeling reckless. He’s probably too drunk to remember this conversation, after all. “Master Kilian. He thought it might be useful. On the frontier we don’t restrict learning that might keep men alive.”
“Makes sense. You highlanders are a practical lot,” Chaney allowed. “But I wouldn’t go showing it around if I were you.”
“I just left Chalmer. He’s going to run you out if you don’t pull yourself together.”
Chaney sat bolt upright. “You told him about…this?” He gave Dain an ugly glare. The mention of Chalmer had clearly brought anger boiling up through the drunken haze.
“I didn’t have to. He already knew. Knew far too much, in fact,” Dain said. He spent a few minutes explaining everything that had happened, starting with meeting Mern. He tried dancing around why he’d done so, but Chaney pressed.
“Why did you go to Mern in the first place? Why didn’t you just come to me?” Chaney asked. His eyes turned to the nearly empty bottle at his bedside. “Ahh. I see. You went t
o complain about me.”
“Not complain. To get help for you. You’ve fallen apart on us, Chaney.”
“The squad’s a disaster,” Chaney said, rubbing at his face with his big hands. “He’s stuck every malcontent into one unit, you said so yourself, and there’s no way I can save it. You should probably just quit.”
“I am not quitting. Getting here has cost me too much,” Dain said. He was sick of everyone trying to make him leave.
He decided then to tell Chaney the whole of it. Fighting with his father. His desire to bring honor to his family. Kilian’s warnings. All of it.
For a long time Chaney said nothing. He reached for the bottle and hefted it in his hand.
“Away from the temple and out of the Sovereign’s sight, most Paladins fall to drink or some other vice,” Chaney said. “I’m afraid you’ll find that Kilian is right. The Order isn’t what it used to be. There are fewer good men among us every year, and those left waste away while Chalmer leads the ambitious and greedy to conquest. He’s corrupted everything we once held dear.”
Chaney stared at the far wall in disgust.
“You can change. My father says the greatest gift the Creator ever gave us was the ability to learn and change and grow. That is what defines us,” Dain said. Even though they’d parted on poor terms, he found his father’s words ringing true.
Chaney heaved a sigh. “Your father is right. I’m sorry to say it, though,” he said, shooting a sidelong glance at Dain. “Damn you, boy. Couldn’t you have just let me wallow in my own self-pity for a while longer?” Chaney waved a hand at him. “Leave me to my thoughts tonight and I will consider how to fix this. There has to be a way to salvage the squad. I can at least get you all trained.”
Eager to start the day, Dain roused the others early. He’d explained the situation to Zek and Niles, enlisting them to his cause. They too wanted to succeed. After Strale understood that there’d be no healing if he didn’t pass the first year, he also wanted to help.
Kag, Dremble, and Trysen they didn’t bother with. They’d never listen unless it was beaten into them with fists. Dain and Strale wanted to try convincing Falion, but Niles and Zek disagreed. The withdrawn boy still wanted nothing more than escape.
Why hasn’t he, then, Dain wondered. Certainly Falion had had plenty of opportunities. In Chaney’s absence he could have just wandered off and, if none of the other boys said anything, he could have been gone for a week or more before anyone noticed.
Chaney arrived early. His expression was grim and he seemed distracted. Dain hoped he hadn’t polished off the rest of the rum this morning.
“Three miles. Run,” Chaney barked.
“We ran four yesterday when you weren’t here,” Kag lied. “Can’t we take it easy today?”
“No. Your trial is in another half-year and none of you worms will pass if you stay as you are,” Chaney said. A bright gleam of anger was in his eyes. “NOW RUN.”
He cuffed Kag on the head and Dain’s group led out. Kag and the others lagged behind with Falion running in the middle, a member of neither band. Dain encouraged his group and had them moving at a good pace. Maybe they could shame the others into working harder, he reasoned.
When the first group returned, Chaney waited for them at the cabin’s front.
“Each of you will now duel Dain. As you fight, I will offer you advice,” he said. “To make things more challenging for him, Dain will fight two against one.”
“What?” Dain said, frustration mounting. “That’s hardly—”
A sharp look from Chaney told him to keep his mouth shut. He nodded and held his sword ready.
“Zek and Niles, you’re up first.”
Dain swung his sword in a circle to stretch his shoulder. He never lost at swords. Not ever. He took great pride in that fact. But facing two opponents at once…the advantage was too great. He couldn’t win. What was Chaney playing at?
Zek and Niles stepped into the circle. They held their swords lazily.
Despite their friendship, Dain’s frustration bubbled over into anger at the sight. They expect me to lie down and let them win. We’ll see about that. He started to get an idea on how to keep them off balance.
Chaney rang a small bell, the match started, and Dain didn’t wait. He flew onto the offensive, sword striking at Niles and then Zek in turn.
Surprised, Niles let his guard down and Dain stung him on the chin. Zek saw an opening but was too slow, and Dain’s weapon caught him on the wrist. He dropped his sword and, while parrying Niles, Dain kicked him in the belly.
Zek let out a huff and bowled over.
Dain focused on Niles then, and the boy started to panic. He slashed wildly, chopping and hacking and finding nothing but air. Dain struck his arms, legs, and then chest in succession. Niles too went down in a heap.
“Aww, just in time,” Chaney said to Falion. “You and Strale attack Dain now.”
Falion looked at the fallen Niles and Zek. Cautiously, he entered the circle. Strale joined him.
“Stay apart,” Chaney told them. “That way he has to split his concentration more.”
Falion moved away from Strale, and Dain countered by thrusting his sword in that direction. He circled, trying to keep the two stacked behind each other.
“C’mon now. Surely two of you can take him,” Chaney taunted.
Briefly, Dain wondered if Chaney was still sore at him for breaking his door down. Maybe this was some kind of punishment.
He took another strike at Falion. Strale moved in to support but Dain backed him off with a feint. Alone, neither boy was dangerous, but unlike Zek and Niles they were both cautious by nature. They wouldn’t fight recklessly, and he couldn’t provoke either of them. He needed to tilt the odds in his favor and push them to act.
Dain shifted his attention to Strale. He charged and struck almost recklessly until Falion started to turn his way. He feigned a lunge at Falion then struck again at Strale. He connected to Strale’s arms, but couldn’t score a serious blow. Strale yelped, though, and Falion moved in to defend him.
Dain swung a wide, sweeping slash. From the corner of his eye he saw Falion starting in. Instead of hitting Strale he brought the sword all the way around, swinging his hips and striking Falion on the shoulder.
Falion fell and Dain pounced on him, striking him a half-dozen times while Strale took a breath.
“Dremble, go ahead and jump in there,” Chaney said. “Falion’s out.”
A grinning Dremble leapt into the circle, and Dain groaned quietly to himself. He pressed the attack and Dain was forced to give ground.
With Dremble’s arrival, Strale grew bolder. He moved in to trap Dain between his sword and Dremble’s.
“That’s it, Strale, press him some. Don’t allow him to bunch you up!” Chaney said.
Dain was having trouble breathing now. He started conserving his strength, letting most of Dremble’s attacks miss and parrying Strale’s instead of attacking.
“Hit him,” Kag said. He and Trysen had finished their run and were watching with excitement.
“I’m trying,” Dremble said. The momentary distraction cost him, and Dain stung him on the elbow. His fist and sword flew back to protect himself and Dain slipped to his side and kicked Dremble’s knees out from under him. He fell in a heap and Strale stumbled over him.
Dain struck at them both until Chaney spoke again.
“Strale and Dremble out,” he called. “Looks like it’s up to Kag and Trysen. Let’s see if you two can do any better.”
Dain snatched up Strale’s sword and held it in his off-hand in a reverse grip, tip down. Thave had shown him this.
“Interesting,” Chaney commented.
“I’ve been wanting a rematch, Kag,” Dain said. “Trysen may beat me, but you
won’t—I’ll make sure of it. You’re too slow by half to even catch me.”
Kag’s face twisted, his knuckles white on his sword’s hilt, and he charged.
Dain’s blade caught him in the mouth, and he was about to land another when Trysen struck him on the shoulder. He retreated, upper arm throbbing, and Trysen followed up with a stab at his side.
“Don’t fall for it, Kag. He’s trying to make you mad enough to make a mistake,” Chaney offered.
Dain parried, and then Kag joined back in.
The fighting wore on and Dain lost track of his movements. Exhausted, he could only just manage to fend their swords off. His arms burned with the exertion and his fingers were going numb.
Kag and Trysen both smiled. They know they have control now. It’s only a matter of time until I miss a block or parry. I have to force them into a mistake…that, or…
He let Trysen hit him on the arm—a glancing blow—and gave a theatrical groan.
Kag’s eyes brightened. He stepped forward, striking hard from the opposite side. He lunged far enough that Trysen couldn’t follow up.
Dain slid beneath Kag’s arm and smashed his off-hand sword into Kag’s face. He felt a crunch, and then backed away out of range.
Trysen followed him and Dain barely fought him off.
Blood streamed from Kag’s ruined nose into his mouth. He wiped at it with his arm and stared at his bloody sleeve.
“Break my nose will you, lordling?” he growled. “I’ll break more than yours.”
Kag rushed in and began swinging wildly, striking Trysen as he tried to get to Dain.
Paladin's Fall: Kingdom's Forge Book 2 Page 16