by Wayne Meyers
Words escaped me at this outrage. It violated every principle of the Scriptures! Every guild held onto its own secrets, from the baker to the tailor. It was as preposterous even for an ex-peacekeeper to teach what he had learned to others, as it was for the butcher to demonstrate their beef cuts to a bureaucrat.
“But why?” I finally asked.
He folded his arms across his chest. “We aren’t certain. Perhaps simple vengeance by disrupting our effectiveness with counter-trained fighters. Perhaps something…deeper.”
“Deeper?”
A hesitant nod. “There are those who resent not only the peacekeepers but the entire system of government on Bellisprodus, so they seek to change things by force. To do so they must have an army capable of neutralizing peacekeepers. We are few in number compared to the overall population. Our key advantage in maintaining order over the masses are the fighting secrets we possess. Share those secrets with the world and our advantage becomes useless.”
He nodded. “Exactly. And while the peacekeepers maintain order in the thirty-two cities, the protectors also look after the best interests of Bellisprodus as a whole.”
My head started to ache. “So, you believe there may be a plot to create a revolution and change the way Bellisprodus is governed?”
Journeyman Krellus frowned. “There are indications of such a thing, yes. In my searches for Abrigus I’ve come close to finding him, only to be moments too late. In his haste they left behind training equipment, weapons, and printed instructional manuals containing many peacekeeper secrets previously passed down from mouth to ear alone.” He looked away, unspoken words giving him pause.
“You can trust me,” I said, hoping it was true.
His eyes turned back to mine. “Also, a schematic of the king’s palace.”
I straightened. “They mean to overthrow the king himself?”
“That we don’t know for certain, but the schematic is troubling. It would take an army to capture the palace, but it appears they are training one. I’ve managed to disrupt a few of their nests before they move on elsewhere and continue their plans. At best, each encounter delays them for weeks or months before they resume under a new roof.”
I shook my head. “I can’t believe that would be possible. From what I’ve learned, there are too many peacekeepers stationed in Corallius to begin with, plus the royal guard directly under the Grand-Master’s direction.”
He nodded, but the frown did not leave his face. “And we’d have peacekeepers flooding Corallius from every city over the air-tubes to respond to any attack against the palace. But they are up to something. It is possible an attack on our capital would be a diversion from their true plan.”
Rubbing my temples, I turned the conversation back to what mattered most. “Anyhow, what does all of this have to do with my father’s murder?”
Journeyman Krellus chewed on his lower lip. “I had asked Bertrand to help keep a watch out for strangers since you lived on the outermost fringe of the city by the main road leading to Solace’s western gate. He saw someone suspicious who reminded him of Abrigus and sent word to me. By the time I arrived there was no sign of the stranger, and your father had been killed by a blow to the throat only a peacekeeper would know how to deliver.”
I clutched his arm. “Did Abrigus kill my father?”
He stared deeply into my eyes before replying. “Abrigus is my responsibility, boy. He’s done far greater harm to Bellisprodus itself. I must be the one who kills him.”
My defiant glare countered this declaration.
Journeyman Krellus sighed, but the tired smile returned to his face. “The time for this conversation is not yet upon us. In the meantime, I shall relight the incense and you may resume your training. Buoyancy is an important technique to master. Jump for as long as you can, then stretch. Continue jumping. It will not be easy at first, but like everything in life it will get easier over time with hard work and dedication.”
There were many thoughts to digest, so I leaped back into the pit, then out. In, then out. In, then out. Everything he’d told me echoed within my head.
It wasn’t until the incense stick had burned halfway down and I was on my third round of leg stretches that the thought struck me like a bucket of ice water.
How would my father have known what Abrigus looked like?
Chapter Fifteen—Joys of Jumping
Isaid hold that stance, Apprentice!” Journeyman Courtwright’s tone was firm but his eyes were troubled, creasing at the corners. He had taken over training my class from Apprentice Wohl, who had twisted his ankle during tumbling practice.
Several weeks had passed since my pit training began, though my mornings continued in regular class with the other apprentices. We were practicing a low stance where I stood with my weight resting on my front leg, bent at the knee, and my rear leg stretched out behind me. My arms were held up on either side and I had to remain absolutely still, but my front leg wobbled no matter how hard I tried to keep it steady. The daily jumping routine was killing my legs.
I glanced over at Babette and Spaldeer off to my left, who maintained their stances with flawless perfection. Their heads faced straight forward as the stance demanded but their eyes had swiveled over to the right to watch me. My lips pressed together as I focused on the shooting pains running up and down my calves. Anything to avoid thinking how much I missed my friendship with Babette. Still, I could not avoid wondering if she watched me from concern or contempt. No matter what her reasons might be for treating me with indifference, the pain in my heart was worse than the aches in my legs.
A muscle spasm surged through my leg from foot to thigh, sending me sprawling to the ground.
Journeyman Courtwright spoke up with his best teaching voice. “The stance is the foundation of all your training. Like a house, a weak or faulty foundation will cause to fall everything built upon it. Now, everyone, run fifty laps, after which you may break for lunch.”
I struggled to my feet, hopping on my good leg while I massaged the other.
“A word, Hofen.”
I managed to stand on both legs and waited while the others trotted off to the perimeter of the courtyard. “Journeyman?”
He waited until everyone else was out of earshot, then placed a hand upon my shoulder. “Look, I understand you’ve been singled out for some kind of special training. But what are they doing to you?”
I looked down at my feet, unsure if I could tell. Spaldeer knew, of course, but I trusted him to keep it to himself.
Journeyman Courtwright dropped to the ground while spinning one leg toward mine, performing a leg sweep technique. Without thinking I jumped over his spinning leg and my body launched itself high into the air, my feet clearing his now upright head. When I landed, my mouth opened. I was so used to jumping out of the pit, now waist high, that I had not realized how far up I would go on level ground.
His shocked expression matched my own. “Buoyancy? To a mere low-apprentice?”
“I can do it—”
He waved his hand rapidly. “No, no, Hofen, that’s not it at all. It’s not that I think you’ll fail. You are far too young for such a demanding, specialized technique. What are they thinking? Your bones and muscles are still developing.”
An icy shiver ran up and down my spine. He was going to stop my specialized training!
He heaved a heavy sigh. “You be careful, understand me? They will demand more and more until they break you.”
“What do you mean?” He glanced around us before replying, his voice lowered to a whisper. “I mean, they see potential in you and your two friends, and for reasons not shared with the rest of us, are of a mind to test your boundaries. They want to see how much you can take, and how fast you can take it.”
It was then I realized Journeyman Krellus had never fully explained the motives behind my special training. When the conversation had diverted to my father I had forgotten the reason we were discussing him in the first place. Had he done so delibera
tely, to avoid answering my question?
“They are trying me out for their new accelerated training program—”
“Pah.” Journeyman Courtwright rolled his eyes. “Yes, that was mentioned last year when your apprenticeship began. Blah, blah…you had a head start by being here a year already, why not take advantage of it and see if it’s possible to put you on the streets a year or more sooner than normal. No, there is always a reason before anything changes. Our world was founded on consistency. The larger question is, why do we need peacekeepers to become journeymen sooner than later? What are they anticipating will happen to require more of us?”
The truth of the matter was Abrigus was out there somewhere, always one step ahead of Journeyman Krellus’ pursuit, with stolen fighting manuals for some nefarious purpose. The masters needed more trained peacekeepers to counter whatever was coming. But what that actually was I had no idea. “I don’t understand why,” I partially lied.
“None of us do. Or, those who know aren’t sharing with the rest of us.” He sighed. “Just watch out for yourself. You work hard and will make an excellent peacekeeper someday. Don’t let them steal that from you, in some reckless quest to create a weapon instead of a man.”
“Yes, Journeyman.” I didn’t know what else to say. Journeyman Krellus had my trust and the guild had my loyalty.
He smiled at me and clapped my shoulder. “Now go stretch a bit, then eat lunch. I’ll work around your limitations and even try to help counter the ill effects of whatever they throw at you. There are leg stretches that will offset some of the muscle fatigue and breathing exercises to restore oxygen to your cells faster than normal. And don’t worry. I won’t say a word to the masters about this. I trust they know what they’re doing.”
After lunch I mentioned the conversation to Journeyman Krellus, stressing the part where Journeyman Courtwright indicated his concern for my wellbeing. I did not wish to get him into any trouble.
“Back in the pit. You can jump while we talk. Yes, he is right to be concerned about your growing muscles and bones. Buoyancy training can cause a great deal of damage. But what he doesn’t know is High-Master Chendor gave you a special bath last year that did a great deal more than simply heal your wounds. The herbs that soaked through your skin will shield your growing body from harm for many months, long after we’ve completed this segment of training. But that is not for Courtwright’s ears, I’m afraid.”
I jumped from the second pit, reaching the edge with ease. “Was he right about turning me into a weapon?”
Journeyman Krellus folded his arms across his chest. “Maintain the pace. Breath as I showed you. I trust you didn’t let him know I’ve already taught you how to increase your cellular oxygen levels?”
“No, sir, I did not tell him.”
“Perfect. Courtwright is a good man and an excellent peacekeeper. But his fault lies in his own efficiencies. From his perspective he only sees a young man undergoing training too rigorous for his own good. We see a fulfillment of potential. He also would not understand the need for the protectors to be secret not only from the rest of the world, but from the other peacekeepers as well.”
My forehead creased. I had given much thought to this obscure branch of peacekeepers, and what their purpose was for. It seemed strange to me. “Why do they need to be secret?”
He chuckled. “You are smart, boy. Think on it and tell me.”
Another deferral? I felt my ears turning red and jumped harder than needed to clear the pit. “You are not answering any of my questions. Why are you really training me differently than the others? Are you turning me into a weapon? How was my father involved?”
Journeyman Krellus exhaled. “There is much I could tell you, but at this moment in your life I fear such knowledge would do more harm than good.”
I stood at the edge of the pit, breathing hard. “Please.”
He scrutinized me for a minute. “Answer the first question. Why do protectors need to be kept a secret?”
I inhaled deeply through my nose and exhaled through my mouth, slowing my heartbeat and calming my mind as I considered what little I already knew. “Well, for one thing, I don’t think there is anything in the Scriptures about it.”
He smiled. “A good thought but mistaken. There are volumes of the Scriptures not readily available to the public, for the same reasons. Trust me when I say the Founders were very thorough. The restricted material can only be seen by their designated viewers. In some cases, this may be the king himself. In others, the Grand-Masters or High-Masters of one or more guilds. At any rate I am talking around my intended point, which is that the protectors exist because of the Scriptures, and operate under the direct authority of High-Master Chendor and Grand-Master Lycos.”
I paused to assimilate this unexpected revelation, then nodded. “You have given me the answer then; the Scriptures dictate their secrecy.”
Journeyman Krellus held up a hand. “Think on it further. If we limit our minds only to what we’re told, we are confined within the boundaries of what others have crafted before us.”
I chewed on my lip. “Well, if everyone knew protectors existed, they’d need to understand why. And if they became aware that some peacekeepers have gone rogue, it might make people afraid.”
He smiled and nodded. “Exactly. Our advantage depends not only on others being unable to perform the feats we learn but keeping the citizens confident in our ability to protect them. There is a mysticism attributed to peacekeepers that is more psychological than accurate. By only demonstrating minor super-human capabilities we can allude to far greater talents, and the people believe this. They obey the Scriptures to avoid finding out what those greater powers are. No one wants to suffer a personal demonstration and end up in the dungeons because they disobeyed the law. It’s safer to behave from the fear of reprisal and the firm conviction they could not avoid otherwise due to owning lesser abilities than peacekeepers possess.
“Achieving this depends on the people remaining unaware we cannot guarantee success. If they discovered someone had compromised our greatest asset, and a horde of warmakers might swoop down upon them at any moment with fighting abilities equal to our own, we’d have panic in the streets. They’d stop believing we can protect them, and worse, that they cannot overcome us. There are simply not enough peacekeepers to handle that type of chaos.”
I considered further. “It also might make rogue peacekeepers warier, if they knew a special segment would hunt them.”
Journeyman Krellus nodded. “Yes, in most cases. With Abrigus, he already knows, and is spreading that information to his followers.”
“Abrigus was a protector, then?”
“Yes. The only one we misjudged.”
I tilted my head to one side. “So, to remain unknown, protectors would need to make sure their own members were beyond reproach, so as not to have the same rogue problem.”
Journeyman Krellus grinned. “You are close now to answering your first question. Go on, pull it together.”
I will admit I am dull-witted at times but understanding finally dawned on me. “You are training me to become a protector—not a weapon, as Journeyman Courtwright put it.”
His voice turned sober. “All peacekeepers are weapons, boy. It’s the way we conduct ourselves that matters. Kindness and compassion wherever and whenever possible, but a sharp bite if needed. We defend those who lack the teeth to defend themselves.”
These words sounded right to me. “That is a peacekeeper.”
Another nod. “But a protector must also be capable of taking a step backward to see the larger picture. We are strategists, specially trained above and beyond most peacekeepers. We may be sent out on special missions to any of the thirty-two cities. At times we must be merciless. Deceive. Kill instead of capture. The stakes are far too high to play by the normal rules, which is another reason we need to remain secret. It would appear hypocritical for peacekeepers to behave above the same laws they must enforce. Hypocritical, y
es, but necessary for success.”
I nodded slowly. “Journeyman Courtwright is too pure of heart to lie to anyone. He is a good man.”
“Now you’re getting it.” Journeyman Krellus shrugged. “He is a very good man and makes an excellent peacekeeper, but a protector must be capable of darker tasks. We skirt the jurisdiction and mandates of the bureaucracy guild in order to remain unknown. A bad man would make a horrific protector, and a good man would make an inefficient one. We must have members who are somewhere in between.”
“You believe I am to grow into such a man?”
Journeyman Krellus frowned and looked away. “High-Master Chendor believes this, and although we have never before singled anyone out for specialized training ahead of their journeymanship, he feels haste is needed. He wishes for you to become a protector younger than anyone prior to now, and by watching how you handle it, perhaps others after you. He would not want them to know what they are being prepared for until they are old enough to understand, and of course prove they may be trusted. This is why he did not want anyone to explain this to you yet.”
“That does make sense, but I’m glad you told me.”
He did not sound pleased. “In doing this, he has drawn unnecessary attention to you.”
I realized then that he did not wish for me to be a protector, and I stated such.
He stared to one side of my face, unwilling to meet my eyes. “You are right. Being a peacekeeper is dangerous enough at times. A protector is not only dangerous for the body, but the soul. You must weigh each action above the law with extreme justice. You must always remain objective and do what is right, not what you would like to be right. You must never let the feeling of power overwhelm your compassion and sensibilities.”
My eyes shut as I pondered all of this. “Now I see. You saved me from my stepfather only for my life to be risked at a higher level.”