Sword Masters

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Sword Masters Page 4

by Selina Rosen


  "I see you have me at a disadvantage, as I do not know your name," Tarius said suspiciously.

  "Do you think I come to steal horses?" the stranger asked.

  "Doubtful. From the look of your hands, I'd say you've never turned an honest day's work. You don't carry yourself like a swordsman; more like a noble," Tarius answered. "If you'll simply state your purpose, I will gladly tell Sir Darian of your presence here."

  "So you think I'm up to no good then?" he asked.

  Tarius looked him up and down again. He was a medium-sized man with a head full of blond hair and a well-kept red beard. Tarius was thoughtful.

  "I must admit I can't guess your purpose. I only know that I have never seen you before," Tarius said. "Who knows but that you are some Amalite spy . . ."

  He laughed loudly then. "Ah, young Tarius, you are no sleeper! I will let you off the hook. For, you see, I am King Persius."

  The boy nodded in his direction and said by way of apology, "Please pardon my ignorance, Your Majesty. However you must realize that I didn't expect to run into the king of the entire land in a barn full of horse crap."

  * * *

  The king laughed. This boy was far from intimidated by him. It was just as obvious by the way he held himself that he did not feel humbled in the king's presence. He remembered what he had read about one of the Kartik religions.

  "Are you a follower of the One Who Has No Name?" he asked curiously.

  "I am," Tarius answered without blinking.

  "Then why do you come to serve me as a swordsman of the Jethrik?"

  "Because all is one. The Amalite are a wound on the planet that will spread if it isn't taken care of. When you have a wound on your leg you don't bind your arm. If we stop the Amalites now, here, then they won't spread. I serve you because I believe in your cause, on the day I do not believe in your cause, then I will no longer serve you."

  "You won't swear fealty then?" the king asked, a bit taken aback.

  "Why would you gather good and honest men around you, and then ask them to follow you blindly? If that be the case why not take any sort of man? Don't you surround yourself with good strong men of good character so that if you make a mistake someone will be there to stop you from destroying the country?" Tarius countered.

  The king smiled. This was a good man; a man whose council he could use. A man of good and pure judgment. Such a man was a rarity, and Persius made a mental note to keep in touch with this one. The king liked Tarius, but there was something different about him that went beyond that fact that he was definitely out-country bred. Persius couldn't quite put his finger on it. Something in his mannerisms—in the way he held himself.

  "And what do you think of a monarchy?" the king asked.

  "It is a shame that people must be governed. However I have seen the justice of men ungoverned. Their compassion does not exist, and there is no pity. The poor go hungry. The strong act in moments of passion and execute their prisoners without a trial. The innocent die cruelly at the hands of ignorant beasts who long to kill what they do not understand."

  Persius smiled then; he thought he knew what was different about Tarius now. The boy was queer, a lover of other men. It wasn't a problem. It wasn't widely accepted among the Jethriks, but it was tolerated. They weren't the Amalites, so there was no law against it. It wasn't even grounds to keep someone out of the academy as long as they didn't conduct their perversions on academy grounds.

  "What do you think of a king?"

  "If a king is good and just, then the kingdom will have a time of peace, or if forced to war will be victorious. If not, then all shall parish," Tarius said. "That is why good men must rise up and smite a bad king."

  "And what sort of king am I, Tarius?"

  "If I did not think you were a fine king, I would not be here now."

  The king laughed loudly now and moved to pat Tarius on the back. "You are indeed the only truly honest man I have ever met. All day long people tell me how great I am. If I were to ask you what sort of man I am, what would you say?"

  Tarius looked confused. "What do you mean, Majesty?"

  "Am I a better man than you are?"

  "No, and no better than the crippled boy who works in the bunk house. All people are equal; only our natures set us apart. Good and Evil—those are the only differences that matter."

  "And you love only your blade, is that right Tarius?" the king asked.

  "I was talking to a horse, Sire," Tarius explained. "Telling him, if you will, my woman problems. If it's not too presumptuous of me, what are you doing here, Sire?"

  The king laughed. "Well, if you must know, I occasionally like to come by and check out how things are going around the kingdom. Keep in touch with the people. I think that in order to be a good king, one must remain a part of the whole. I must remind myself that I am the same as the stable man, the Swordmaster, and the crippled boy who works in the bunk house."

  Tarius nodded with appreciation. "That is very wise."

  They walked out the front doors of the stable, and an escort of five guards fell in behind them. The king saw the puzzled look on Tarius's face. Obviously he didn't understand why the king's guards hadn't been with the king.

  "Sometimes I like to talk to horses, too," the king whispered in Tarius's ear.

  Tarius laughed.

  * * *

  Darian watched as the king walked across the courtyard with Tarius at his side, and his guards walking closely behind him. The king's personal guards were all of the order of Swordmaster as well as knights, and so to walk behind one still in training must have chapped them good.

  Tarius would go far in the kingdom, and with the gods' good graces, he'd go far with Jena, as well.

  Chapter 3

  Darian looked at the list in front of him. It was never an easy decision, but this batch of recruits had very few clear-cut culls among them.

  The council that decided who went and who stayed consisted of Darian, Edmond, Justin, and five Swordmasters who had helped in the training up to this point, including Arvon.

  "OK let's start with the one who should be easiest. Tarius?" Darian asked.

  "At this very moment I know that Tarius can beat my best," Arvon said. "He holds back out of courtesy to me, because he likes me."

  "I agree," Justin said. "When I sparred with him he out-classed me in both speed and style. I admit I had my reservations about him, but he is a fine young man who, in spite of his many differences, tries to fit in."

  The other fighters were all in agreement. Edmond was silent.

  "Edmond?" Darian asked at length.

  Edmond took in a deep breath. "He didn't pass his written exam. He did very well in class; his oral presentation was superb."

  "How bad were his scores?" Darian asked, worried.

  "Don't tell me we are even thinking of denying Tarius acceptance into the academy because of bad grades!" Arvon said angrily. "He is unequaled in skill with weapons of all kinds. We are fighters; we should be able to fight first."

  "We are also arbitrators of justice, and as such we can not be ignorant," Darian said. "How bad were his scores?"

  "Bad," Edmond said. "He missed questions he got correct in class. He's not stupid by any stretch of the imagination, but his writing is barely legible. He might even have gotten some of the answers correct if I could have read what he'd written. Actually, I think he's illiterate. I'm sure that he knows the law, and he's most certainly virtuous."

  Darian remembered the nights Tarius had been sitting with Jena studying under candlelight. The times he'd seen him under a tree in the courtyard going over the book with Tragon or Harris. If he had just been studying all that time, there was no way he would have failed the test. Edmond was right. Tarius hadn't been studying for the test; he had been learning to read and write.

  "If you gave him that same test orally he would pass with flying colors I have no doubt of that," Edmond said. "However a Swordmaster must be able to read."

  Darian turned to
the servant standing at the door. "Go and fetch Jena."

  They all gave him a puzzled look. Darian shrugged and didn't bother to explain himself.

  The servant returned with Jena in tow.

  "Yes, Father," she said sweeping into the room.

  Darian flinched at the sight of her. Her hair was undone, there were no shoes on her feet, and her dress had been pinned up on one side till it was almost indecent. She looked like one of the serving girls from down at the pub instead of a noble's daughter. He stood up and walked to the side of the room with her.

  "What's wrong?" Jena asked.

  "Have you been teaching Tarius to read?" Darian asked in a whisper.

  "I can't say," Jena said looking at her feet.

  "That means 'yes.'" Darian shook his head in worry.

  "Are they going to kick him out?" Jena asked in a panic. If they cut him, he wouldn't hang around to try again. He'd go back to Kartik, and she'd never see him again, she knew this as well as Darian did. "You can't let them do that, Father," Jena begged in a whisper. "He couldn't read at all when he got here, not at all. He learns quickly, and he's learning more all the time."

  Darian nodded, then smiled. "I don't suppose you'd be opposed to tutoring the boy, then?"

  She shook her head quickly.

  "All right, go on then."

  Jena left, and Darian sat back at his place at the table. "Tarius can obviously read and write a little, or he couldn't have answered any of the questions. I have just talked to Jena, and she has said she would be happy to tutor the boy. Does any one have any objections to Tarius's entry if he learns to read better?"

  "I have none at all," Edmond said with a smile.

  The list didn't get any easier as they went on. Finally, there was only one more spot, and two candidates left—Tragon and Derek.

  "Derek is the better fighter, there can be no doubt about that," Arvon said and the other fighters all agreed.

  "However Tragon had a perfect score on his written exam. The only perfect score in this batch I might add, while Derek's scores were barely passing," Edmond said. "In fact, Derek's scores were not much better than Tarius's, and as we all now know, Tarius is just learning to read."

  "Derek has the will to fight and the strength," one of the men said. "I don't think Tragon has either. I think he's here because he feels he must be here, not because he wants to fight."

  "I agree," Darian said.

  "Derek is ill mannered, and we already have the likes of Gudgin to deal with," Justin said. He had voted against Gudgin and lost. He hoped that they would look at their past mistake and not repeat it this year. Justin knew the importance of unity among the Swordmasters. It was why he had originally objected to Tarius, and it was why he objected to Derek now. He had admitted he had been wrong about Tarius, and now he hoped that Darian would admit he was wrong about Derek.

  "Gudgin has calmed, and in time so will Derek," Darian said.

  "But Tragon is already a gentleman, and not without skill. He is getting better, and he will continue to improve," Arvon said. "There is merit in what Justin says. We can teach a man to be a better fighter, but how can we teach him to be a better man if he doesn't have the right metal to begin with?"

  The discussion went on for what seemed to Darian to be hours. Surprisingly, it was Edmond who finished the controversy.

  "It seems to me that the choice is simple. We will be pairing these men off into teams. As has already been stated, Derek has trouble getting along with others. We currently have a man before us who is way ahead of his brothers academically, but weak in the sword. We have another who out classes all with his sword, but who failed the written part of the test. Am I the only one who sees that by pairing these two men together we will have the most perfect team of Swordmasters to ever ride for the king?"

  All agreed, and Tragon was admitted into the academy.

  * * *

  They watched as the number of recruits in the room went from twenty-five to fifteen. They said good-bye to the friends they would miss, and encouraged them to try again, but none of them dared to show how glad they were not to be cut until the others were gone.

  It was Burgis who let out the first scream of triumph. This had been his fourth attempt at getting in, and he could not contain his excitement. After Burgis it was perhaps Tragon who celebrated the loudest.

  Tarius lay back on her bunk and watched them all as they whooped and hollered. She smiled and relaxed for the first time since she had taken that damned test, but she didn't feel like celebrating. She felt sorry for the ones who didn't make it, even for Derek who was a big, stupid jerk. She wasn't even supposed to be there; she was lying to the world. She had taken the place of someone who did belong there. She comforted her guilty conscience by reminding herself of how stupid their rules for admittance were.

  After a few minutes they decided to go in to town and find a pub they could terrorize.

  "Come on, go with us," Tragon pleaded, pulling at her arm. "I owe my good fortune to your good teaching and your help. Please come! I'll buy you a drink. Hell! I'll buy you a hundred," he said throwing his hands in the air and spinning around.

  Tarius laughed. "If it's all the same to you, I'll pass. Maybe some other time, though."

  "I'll hold you to that," Tragon promised.

  Tarius watched them go feeling sorry for whatever pub they landed in that night. Then she got up and went to her locker. She pulled out her own clothes, wiping the mold off the leather. She looked around quickly to make sure she was alone, and then changed. She slung her sword over her back and walked out into the courtyard. She would go into the woods tonight. She took in a deep breath enjoying the smell of the dirty leather garments. She had missed the feel and the smell of them, the dark hiding her in the night. She moved on quietly, sneaking around everyone she saw. She was good at this—at not being seen. It was a game she had played for years. She saw Darian suddenly step out of his house, so she jumped and rolled into cover, coming up in a crouching position with sword in hand, just because it was part of the game.

  "Are we under attack?" a voice asked quietly from behind her. She pivoted quickly and saw Jena standing there. Jena stooped to pick up some strawberries she had dropped out of her skirt, smiling broadly at Tarius saying all too clearly that she knew exactly what Tarius had been doing.

  Tarius sheathed her sword and moved to help Jena pick up the berries. "I was . . . I was . . . I'm sorry I startled you."

  "I figured I'd better say something quick before I startled you," Jena said.

  They reached for the same berry, and their hands touched. Their eyes locked for just a moment, and then Tarius looked away and moved her hand. When all the berries had been picked up, Tarius got straight up in one fluid motion and put down her hand to help Jena to her feet. Jena took it willingly and held it tight long after Tarius had helped her up. She purposely caught and held Tarius's gaze.

  "I'm glad you're staying . . ."

  "Your father tells me I am to study my reading and writing. That you have once again volunteered to help me. I will be forever in your debt," Tarius said, gently trying to take her hand back. Jena wasn't letting go.

  "Is it true what they say?" Jena asked looking at the missing finger.

  "That my finger is in the hilt of my sword?"

  "Is it?" Jena asked.

  "Yes, it is," Tarius said.

  Jena made a face. "Did you cut it off yourself?"

  Tarius nodded simply.

  "You know, of course, that's insane. Don't you?" Jena asked with a smile.

  "So I've been told."

  Jena kissed Tarius's cheek and finally let go of her hand. Then, suddenly shy, she turned to walk quickly away. At the steps to the kitchen she turned. "Do me a favor, won't you?"

  "Anything you ask," Tarius said.

  "Don't whack anything else off." She ran inside.

  Tarius frowned hard and started walking in the opposite direction. "Well, there isn't much fear of that as I've got no
thing to whack off," Tarius mumbled under her breath.

  She liked Jena because Jena didn't give a damn what everybody else thought. She wore what she felt like wearing, or didn't wear it as the case might be. She spoke even when she wasn't spoken to. She laughed freely and sincerely, and she was beautiful in a way that few women were. For one thing, she still had all her teeth. Her long hair was almost always flying wildly about her head, and her blue eyes shone with pure mischief.

  She could fall in love with Jena, and it was obvious that Jena was developing feelings for Tarius. There was only one small problem. Jena thought she was falling in love with a man. Tarius was a lot of things, but a man wasn't one of them.

  She felt even more guilt than she had earlier. The Swordmasters' guild deserved her deception because they had stupid rules, but Jena didn't deserve it. Tarius supposed she could do things to purposely make Jena hate her. The problem was she didn't really want to. She enjoyed being lavished with Jena's attention. It was her curse that she had this thing for Jethrik women. No doubt because Jethrik women would reject her, when Kartik women would and had fought over her.

  It was all crazy. Her affection for Jena could ruin everything she had worked so hard for. It could do nothing but hurt Jena and would only make Tarius crazy. Yet she was walking around on air because Jena had kissed her cheek.

  All proof that what everyone says about me is true. I am crazy.

  She took a run at the wall, cleared it, landed on the other side and ran off into the night.

  * * *

  Arvon looked at Tarius. He liked him. Mostly, he had to admit, because he was just so damned pretty. Arvon was sure the boy was every bit as queer as he was, and he couldn't help but feel attracted to him. Still, right now the little shit was pissing him off. He was holding back as if Arvon couldn't handle everything he had in him. Arvon was pretty sure the boy was right, but he still wanted a chance to try.

  "Is that all you got, pretty boy?" Arvon chided, trying to make Tarius angry. Tarius's fighting didn't change, so Arvon threw a blow harder than was usual in practice. It barreled its way through Tarius's defenses and connected just above the eyebrow opening Tarius's head. Tarius stepped back and put a hand to his forehead, wiping the blood away.

 

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