by Victor Kloss
— Chapter Twenty-Nine —
Captain of the Old Guard
Ben woke to the smell of coffee. His nose twitched. That was strong coffee, and may have been the reason he had regained consciousness in the first place. It certainly helped with the grogginess, though his head still hurt a little. He didn't open his eyes, but rather tried to use his senses to get a feeling of his surroundings. He was sitting in an upright chair. To his surprise, he found he wasn't bound. The floor was carpeted beneath his feet, and there was a soft light creeping through his eyelids. He concentrated on sound. He could hear breathing, and the delicate sipping of coffee. Ben resisted the urge to frown, knowing that would give away his consciousness. Where exactly was he? Instinct told him he was still in the museum. But why had they not thrown him into some dark, dank room? It was most puzzling.
Ben opened his eyes, and promptly received his next surprise.
An elderly woman was standing opposite him, drinking a mug of coffee and watching him closely. She wore the uniform of the Old Guard, with the addition of several medals on her chest. Though she was clearly old enough to be his grandmother, she stood with her back perfectly straight.
“Ah, there you are,” the woman said in a perfectly spoken English voice that could have come from the queen. “I was wondering when you might venture to open your eyes.”
“Where am I?” Ben asked, looking around. The room was small, but cosy, and looked very much like an office, minus the technology.
“Elizabeth's museum, of course,” the lady said. “My office, to be precise.”
Ben's head was slowly getting back into gear. To his great surprise, the scabbard was leaning against his chair, and hadn't been confiscated or returned to where it came from.
“Where are my friends?”
“Safe,” the lady answered. She took another sip of her coffee, and put it down on the desk. “Now, I believe we are getting ahead of ourselves. Shall we do introductions?”
Ben still couldn't understand why he wasn't in deep trouble or why this lady seemed so calm about their attempted robbery, but he didn't complain.
“Ben Greenwood,” Ben said.
The lady leant forwards, and extended her hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Ben Greenwood. My name is Anna Farland. I am captain of the Old Guard, and have been for the past fifty years.”
Ben took the old woman's hand and was surprised by the firmness of her shake. Questions swirled round his head. He was fairly certain Anna would address them in her own time, but she appeared in no hurry, and he couldn't wait.
“What's going on?” Ben asked. “Why am I here? Why have I not been reported to the authorities?”
Anna smiled, her many wrinkles creasing around her thin lips. “Ah, the impatience of youth. I remember that wonderful feeling – I still get it occasionally, you know. I might be eighty years old, but I don't feel it. Now, where were we? I'm rambling. Ah yes, why are you here, and why have you not been reported? Both those questions have the same, simple answer: we were expecting you.”
That was arguably the last thing Ben expected to hear. He leaned forwards on his chair, to get a fraction closer to Anna, fearing he may have misheard her crisp, upper-class accent.
“Yes, you heard correct,” Anna confirmed. “For eight years, to be precise.”
“I don't understand,” Ben said.
“I feel a story coming on,” Anna said. “Let's see now – yes, it happened eight years last summer, in fact. Your father, Greg Greenwood, came in to this very office with Elizabeth's scabbard. You can imagine my surprise and delight at receiving such an item for the museum. But to my astonishment, he said he only wanted to keep it here temporarily for safekeeping, and that one day you would come and claim it.”
Ben's mouth opened, but no words came out and, after a pregnant pause, Anna continued.
“I, of course, refuted his claim to the scabbard. It belonged to Queen Elizabeth, and hence its rightful place was in the museum. But he immediately put me straight, showing the most remarkable letter from the queen herself, giving your family, the Greenwoods, the responsibility of safeguarding the sword, and its scabbard, and to do with it what he wished.”
Ben couldn't help glancing at the scabbard. “But there is no sword.”
“Correct,” Anna said. “Your father said he would return later with the sword, but he never did. I was most disappointed. The scabbard is a remarkable item, but if we could have displayed the sword as well, that would have been something to behold.”
Ben felt strangely breathless, though he was dimly aware it was also very late, and his body had been through a lot recently. He tried to sift through the multitude of revelations, to make some sort of sense from it. Eventually he found the right questions.
“Why didn't you just give it to me when I came in?” Ben asked.
“Your father was very specific about that. You had to claim it. Additionally, your father said there were powerful spells connected to the scabbard, and if anyone but you tried to leave the room with it, there would be unpleasant consequences.”
“But once I claimed it, why did you summon pretty much every single guard in the building to stop us from leaving?”
“Again, your father's instructions. He said you were to be tested upon escape, that it was necessary. He would not give a reason.”
Ben was momentarily silent. Did his dad think that by the time he came to claim the scabbard, the sword would also be there? Surely not – he would have mentioned it when he saw him just moments ago in the void. Even so, something didn't sit right. He stood up, and immediately had to grab the chair to stop himself falling. His head was still throbbing from the strike, though he'd barely noticed it while talking to Anna.
“Am I free to go?” Ben asked.
“You always were,” Anna said with a smile. “Though I can appreciate that may not have been apparent.”
Ben returned the smile and picked up the scabbard. He walked to the door, but as he was about to exit, he turned back to face Anna.
“Aren't you curious about all this? The scabbard, my dad, me?”
Anna narrowed her eyes and, for the first time, Ben saw a real intelligence there. She gave a thin smile. “Curious? Yes, that, unfortunately, is one of my failings. I wonder the significance of the scabbard, and why you, Ben, should claim it. But the moment I saw the letter from the queen, I've never wavered from my duty to safeguard the scabbard until your arrival.”
“Thank you,” Ben said.
Anna gave a smart salute. “Good luck, whatever it is you're embarking upon. I have a feeling you may need it.”
It was past two o'clock in the morning when Ben, Charlie and Natalie staggered out of Elizabeth's museum, looking rather haggard but jubilant. As they descended the steps, Ben saw a shadow at the bottom.
“Thank god, you made it. I had a bad feeling you weren't going to come out, and I'd have to come looking for you.”
“Joshua,” Ben said with surprise. “What are you doing here? I thought you had Warden duties.”
“I finished them an hour ago, and came straight here.”
Joshua's eyes went straight to the scabbard. Even with the lack of light, Ben could tell from the glint in Joshua's eyes that he was impressed.
“Can I hold it?” Joshua asked.
Ben felt strangely reluctant, but he handed the sheath to Joshua, who inspected it closely, drawing it up to his face to run what looked like an expert eye over it.
“It's stunning,” Joshua said softly. “The craftsmanship is like nothing I've seen.” He handed it back to Ben with something close to an approving nod. “Now we just need the sword to go with it.”
“Yeah, I have some news about that, actually,” Ben said.
Ben proceeded to tell them all that had happened as they walked to the Dragonway, including his meeting with his parents in the void, which left them all open-mouthed, even Joshua.
“Are you okay?” Natalie asked
. Even in the dark, Ben could see her concerned green eyes.
“Yeah, I'm fine. It was a bit of a shock, but it was nice to see them again, even if it was only for a few minutes.”
“I can imagine,” Joshua said with a sad smile. “I don't understand what your father said about the sword. Why didn't he just tell you where it was?”
“I don't know,” Ben replied honestly. “But I think we should trust him. Remember the riddle: Find me last. I am not hidden. I have a feeling we will only find the sword after we have found your shield.”
Joshua gave a reluctant nod. “You may be right.”
“Well, we'll soon find out,” Ben said. “How long until we can get to Vanishing Street?”
“Six days,” Joshua replied immediately.
“Are you guys satisfied with all the research you've done?” Natalie asked.
Joshua looked to Charlie, who spoke up. “Outside, yes. Vanishing Street is a highly secretive place, but it's also famous, so I was able to find several references to it. But Lord Samuel's house is another matter. I could find almost nothing on what we might encounter inside.”
“The only thing we could find was a few letters from Lord Samuel himself,” Joshua said. “And really the only useful thing he would say about the house was that there will be a challenge for everyone. But he doesn't reference who everyone is.”
Ben recalled his father's voice. “He means the Guardians. There will be a test for all the Guardians.”
“How do you know that?” Joshua asked, frowning.
“My dad. He said all the Guardians would be needed.”
“Well, that's good to know,” Charlie said. “Though I dread to think what he's come up with for each Guardian.”
Ben smiled grimly. “We'll find out in six days’ time.”
— Chapter Thirty —
Spellsword Apprentices
The Institute was gearing up for war.
Though they had clearly been planning for months, it was now becoming obvious everywhere you looked, as evidenced on their stroll up the hill to the Institute the following morning. There were soldiers everywhere. Humans, elves, dwarves, even giants, ogres and other races Ben couldn't recognise. Institute members were spread among each group. Many of the houses had been temporarily claimed by the Institute to cater for the soldiers. The taverns were busy, but, apart from a few boisterous dwarves and the composed elves, a repressed anxiety filled the air.
An uncomfortable feeling started in the pit of Ben's stomach. Would he be instructed to join one of the units? He had made leaps and bounds in his training, but he didn't feel anywhere near ready to go to war against the dark elves. The very thought of it made him queasy, a feeling that lasted until he reached the Institute.
Ben, Charlie and Natalie had trouble getting through the front door, it was so busy. As soon as they were in, they gave each other a wave, and began heading off to their relative departments.
“Ben Greenwood!”
Ben recognised the friendly voice of Zadaya, one of the weapons instructors. The dark-skinned elf was waving at him.
“Over here, my friend,” Zadaya said. He had with him two dozen other apprentices, most of them with four or five colourless diamonds hovering above their shoulder.
“What's that about?” Charlie asked, squinting at the group with curious eyes.
“No idea. I'll see you at lunch and let you know.”
Ben was the youngest by some distance, but his reputation with the sword and, more significantly, the spellshooter was well known now, and he got several respectful nods, as if he had passed some silent entry test.
Zadaya took out a scrap of paper he had been referring to. “Good, good! That's everyone. Now, follow me. We go outside.”
Ben recognised a few of the apprentices, but it was the muscular, shaven-headed boy near the front who made him feel a little better.
“Do you know what's going on?” Ben asked, after edging his way over to William.
“No clue, Ben,” William said, cracking his knuckles idly. “But all of us are Spellsword specialists, so I'm sure you can take a guess.”
Ben followed Zadaya and the rest of the apprentices as they bustled their way past members through the over-crowded atrium.
“Excuse me! Coming through,” Zadaya commanded in a loud, almost musical voice. He was waving his arms flamboyantly from side to side. “I have here your future Spellsword stars. Such little time, so much to learn!”
Many looked up – some with annoyance, a few with amusement, and one or two in anger. They all moved, eventually, and soon they exited out into the Institute gardens. It was a beautiful winter's day; the air was wonderfully fresh and the blue sky allowed the sun to highlight the vibrant winter flowers and lush green grass. But for once Ben barely noticed the lovely weather; he was too busy wondering where Zadaya was leading them.
Even the gardens, normally a place of retreat and respite, were busy. As they circled the Institute grounds, Ben saw units of soldiers being briefed on the open grass, often by their native captain plus a Spellsword or occasionally a Warden.
Ben started getting a nasty feeling in his stomach. Were they forming some sort of apprentice military unit? Did that mean they were going into battle, after all? He noticed he wasn't the only one who had gone slightly pale. Only William maintained a calm expression, though even he looked a little concerned.
“Aha, here we go. Some space for us,” Zadaya said, waving his piece of paper in triumph. He turned to the apprentices. “Line up, five across, by rank.”
As the only third-grade apprentice, Ben didn't hesitate going straight to the back.
“Lots of anxious faces,” Zadaya said not unkindly. “Do not worry, apprentices. You are not going into battle. You might be good, but you are not ready – not nearly ready.”
Despite an effort to maintain a straight face, Ben heard several sighs of relief, including his own.
“However, you are all good Spellswords, useful Spellswords! You will form a combat unit, but your role will be to help defend the Institute. The dark elves may try to take our wonderful building while we are busy dealing with them in the Seen Kingdoms. My job is to turn you from individual apprentices into a group that can fight together.” Zadaya's dark, shoulder-length hair whipped in the wind as he thrust a finger skywards for emphasis. “We will train every day, until you know each other's moves like your own. Any questions?”
There were several. Zadaya took one from a grade-four girl near the middle.
“What is our schedule? Are we doing this all day?”
Zadaya nodded enthusiastically. “You are, my friend. We do not have much time, and there is much to learn.”
Unlike Dagmar, Zadaya was happy to answer as many questions as the apprentices fielded, before they got into action.
If Ben thought Zadaya's pleasant demeanour was going to make the training any easier, within the first thirty minutes he was thoroughly disabused of that idea.
“You need to be fit, no?” Zadaya said. “I mean elf-fit, not human-fit. Very important. Another twenty. Go!”
Despite the breeze, Ben was already sweating. He wiped his brow, and then rattled off another twenty push-ups, before proceeding to sit-ups and squats. Then there was the running, and the sprinting. Ben considered himself fit, and indeed he always finished within the first half-dozen, but he couldn't remember his lungs being punished quite this much, even in football training with Coach Frank, who Ben strongly suspected was a sadist.
Thankfully, the fitness training was interspersed with combat, leadership and coordination drills. Ben soon learned that a unit of Spellswords fighting together was a very different prospect from fighting alone, and far more effective. Though Ben had the least experience among the apprentices, he more than held his own and, by the end of the third day, he'd been made a squad leader, one of four apprentices in charge of a group of six.
Despite the looming date with Vanishing Street an
d its significance, Ben was surprised to find that he was so involved with training that he barely had time to think about their mission to find the shield. And it might have stayed that way if not for the news that they received the morning before their invitation to Vanishing Street.
Ben and Charlie stepped off the Dragonway and stopped dead the moment they exited the station, staring with astonishment at the sight before them. The hill up to the Institute, which was normally bustling with soldiers, was half-empty. Several of the taverns were closed and many of the houses that had been appropriated by the Institute were clearly empty.
“What's going on?” Charlie asked.
“Let's find out.”
They hurried up to the Institute, which was also far sparser than normal, though on inspection it was the soldiers not the Institute members who were no longer present.
Ben looked around for someone they could get some answers from, and saw Natalie hurrying towards them, a stack of papers in her hand. Her face was creased with worry.
“Dark elf movement,” Natalie said, as soon as she approached them. “The Institute thinks they're going to launch an attack on southeast England.”
Ben suddenly felt his breakfast rear its ugly head. “When?”
“Literally in the next day or two,” Natalie said. “Our spies have reported serious movement in Erellia. They're launching their ships and mobilising an aerial force.”
“That's why our soldiers aren't here,” Charlie said.
Natalie nodded. “They've gone to Allarr to get ready.”
“Allarr?”
“Taecia's military port,” Charlie said.
Ben found training difficult that day, and he wasn't the only one. Many of the apprentices were off the mark, and Zadaya had to reprimand them with a sharp clap on more than one occasion.
“Focus, my friends!” Zadaya said. “If the dark elves attack while you are like this, you will not last long.”