Peacekeeper's Plan

by Wayne Meyers

  Ah, the innocence of youth! How little I understood that stagnation leads to compliance for the sake of itself. Without the capacity for change, we lose the capability to grow as a society. While the Founders wished this for themselves and hoped to create a legacy of such after they had passed on, each new generation deserves the right to choose for themselves how they wish to live. So I learned later in life, but not until years had passed, which was probably best overall. To voice such heretical thoughts at the time was unacceptable for anyone and a hundred times worse for a peacekeeper.

  I tried to bring up the topic again on our way back to the guild, and several times again over the next few days, but neither Spaldeer nor Babette cared to discuss it further. Babette simply looked gloomy and shook her head, but she forgave my inability to understand her seriousness and conviction to concepts too incomprehensible for me to grasp during those last years of false stability.

  Chapter Nineteen—The Pouch of Beans

  Spaldeer lifted his head from the pillow on the bed across from mine. “I think I can help you.”

  A little over three months had passed since we had discovered the guildless, long enough for our grueling routine to remove the outrage from our young minds—perhaps along with the sweat from our pores. As such, I returned my attention to other things.

  Sitting at the desk that butted against the head of my bed, I glared at the red pouch of hot-pepper beans High-Master Chendor had bestowed upon me on my first day at the guild several years ago, instructing me to toss it without making a sound. Though I had tried many times between then and now, the secret to accomplishing this remained out of reach.

  I tossed it again into the air, but the pouch still rustled as loudly now as it had back then. Slamming my fist on the desk, a cup of pencils fell over spilling its contents onto the floor.

  “If you want my help, that is,” Spaldeer continued.

  I’m ashamed to say I flung the pouch at him. “Take it, then. I have had my fill of this impossible task.” After mastering every technique and form my teachers had thrown at me, it was maddening being unable to solve this one riddle.

  To my surprise, Spaldeer snatched it from the air before it struck his chest. What he lacked in brawn he made up for in speed. Clucking his tongue, he tossed it noisily back to me. “This is your task to overcome, my dear altbrud. But if you ask me nicely, perhaps I may impart some helpful advice to assist you.”

  Taking a deep breath, I smiled despite my ill humor. Spaldeer always knew how to calm me down when my temper got the best of me. Frankly, as rudely as I treated him sometimes, I don’t know why he put up with me to begin with. I pushed my chair away from the desk. “Please help me.”

  He crossed his legs, tucking the thin blanket beneath his feet and leaning back against the wall. It was late and the ceiling lights were off, but the brightness of two moons illuminated our room through the open window. We were both exhausted after a lengthy day of book studies and fighting training, but he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and explained without complaint. “All you’re doing is the same thing over and over again, throwing the bag in the air and hoping it will stop making noise. You’re not actually trying anything different.”

  I became irritated again before I thought about what he was saying and realized he was right. “Yes. I keep trying my best, but I can’t figure out how to silence the beans.”

  Spaldeer chuckled, resting his chin upon his knees and yawning. His eyes were bleary. “So, you keep doing the same thing expecting different results. You know what they call that?”

  “Madness.” I shrugged. “I could not kick a post before I started training, but over time, my feet now strike the targets at different heights with precision and power. Sometimes practice is all one needs.”

  He nodded. “Very well, I concede that point. But to master this exercise, you must adjust your mind just as your legs and eyes adjusted to strike the posts where you wish. To further my analogy, you would still be kicking off-target if you didn’t adjust your balance, weight distribution, and built up the muscles in your legs. Physical adjustments come naturally to you. You have talent here. But there is more to fighting than the physical alone.”

  “Chi,” I said, remembering the strange surge of energy I had once experienced during my jumping training.

  Spaldeer applauded softly. “Yes. I’m glad you’ve covered that somewhere along the way, because that is a lesson normally reserved for journeymen. I suspected you would know something about it since you’ve studied buoyancy. As for me, I peruse many books during my long hours in the library.”

  What I didn’t understand was how to invoke this untapped source of strength on demand. “But how does that help me here?”

  “Chi is not something easily explained. I’ve read about it, as I mentioned, but have never attempted to practice it.” Spaldeer frowned, sitting up straighter as he pondered this. “But here is the effort you need to make: when you throw the beans, instead of thinking you wish them to move silently and letting your arm do the work, focus inside yourself as you would were you jumping. In other words, don’t concentrate upon the beans but within your body’s core. Let the beans move as they may within their pouch.”

  I sat back in the chair, exhaustion tugging at my consciousness as I struggled to understand how to cross the bridge from what had occurred once during my buoyancy training to the task High-Master Chendor had set for me. Ignore the beans, focus within. Ignore the beans.

  My own snoring woke me up. “I think I understand but must wait until I can keep my eyes open before I try this.”

  Spaldeer did not reply, other than with his own snore. He had fallen asleep sitting up.

  Shaking my head as I stumbled into bed, I resolved to resume working with the pouch first thing in the morning. I think I fell asleep before my head even hit the pillow.

  But my plans were deferred when a grip on my throat awoke me. I attempted to dislodge the hand but could not budge it. Had the owner of the arm wished to strangle me there was nothing I could do to prevent it, but this owner only held his hand in place to make the point and did not apply the necessary pressure.

  My eyelids opened to Master Voralius standing over me with a smug expression. Once he understood I recognized him he released my throat and yanked me to my feet with an effortless pull on my nightshirt. “You must learn to sleep with one eye open, Apprentice.”

  “Yes, Master.” Journeyman Krellus was away again, and I did not know when he would be back. He had promised we would begin something new when he returned, but in the meantime, I was to put my full attention toward regular classes. This had offered me some consolation. As much as I enjoyed my special training, a few days or weeks at a less hectic pace had been appealing. Apparently, my respite was short-lived.

  Spaldeer stared at us from his pillow, openmouthed.

  “Journeyman Krellus asked me to keep an eye on you during his absence.” Master Voralius shrugged apologetically. “I’ve been busy, but how can my journeymen respect me if I fail to honor their most benign requests? So, I’ve resolved we’d simply start a bit earlier in the day than usual.”

  “Yes, Master.” I did not know what else to say. It didn’t seem wise to point out that the day had not actually started yet.

  Master Voralius released my shirt and turned on his heel. “Well, hurry along then. When the sun crests the horizon, I must be with the High-Master for our morning consultation.”

  I followed his brisk walking pace by jogging, my sleepy mind reeling from this unexpected awakening even as a spark of excitement ignited within me. An actual master was going to train me? “Where are we going?”

  “A wise student learns more by watching with their eyes and listening with their ears than speaking with their tongue.”

  We left the dorm building and headed toward the training building where I had practiced my jumping until Journeyman Krellus had left a few days ago, and deduced we were to pick up where he had left off. My hunch proved correct, a
nd at the room of pits I strapped the weights onto my legs without speaking in preparation to follow the usual routine of starting from pit one, then working my way over and across to the deeper ones.

  “These too.”

  Master Voralius threw to me the arm weights, which I proceeded to tie about my wrists.

  “Begin.”

  I jumped into the first pit, and with a bit of concentration, launched myself out and toward the second pit with a single fluid motion. When my feet cleared the lip of the first pit, something swished through the air and struck the back of my legs, making me yelp in surprise and pain, and instead of a graceful landing I tumbled into the second pit. I turned to see Master Voralius standing at the lip wielding a long bamboo switch.

  “Jump.”

  I launched myself from the second pit and toward the third with a swift and painful repeat of events. I stood in the third pit rubbing my calves, where two angry red welts appeared through tears in my sleeping pants.

  “Jump and avoid, Apprentice. I’d prefer to think I’m not a cattle driver.”

  I tried to jump out of the way of the stinging bamboo, but it followed me wherever I went. I no longer attempted to follow a routine, only to escape his stinging switch. It didn’t matter which pit I tried—some deeper, some shallower—I only needed to avoid his relentless strokes. He followed me wherever I went, always behind me, always reminding my legs they were not moving as quickly as he’d like.

  “Flip over backward.”

  I reversed my motion, jumping up and out of each pit, but instead of propelling myself forward, spun in the opposite direction. His switch continued to strike, sometimes my legs, sometimes my back, as we danced about the room until my breath came in gasps and sweat drenched my clothing.

  Master Voralius finally gave a laugh and had me stand before him, my chest heaving, and allowed me to catch my breath. I was fuming, first at myself for not moving quickly enough to avoid his switch, and then at him for beating me for no good reason. I clenched my hands into fists, unable to meet his amused eyes. Journeyman Krellus had never trained me like this.

  His voice took on a lofty tone. “How silly of me. I had forgotten all about your weights. Remove them.”

  I did so, and after all the jumping and straining to avoid Master Voralius’ bamboo switch, I felt as light as a feather. A familiar collection of untapped energy simmered within my lower midsection. Had my chi returned to me?

  “Again!”

  He swung the stick at my ankles, but I leaped over backward into the nearest pit without being struck. As I jumped out of the pit he swung at my chest, but I twisted my body while still rising to one side, spinning over horizontally away from the end of the switch. As I was about to land, he swung at my head, so I ducked beneath the swipe and sprung away off my toes, barely touching the ground in the process.

  Exhilaration surged through me, and I realized his true intentions were to teach a lesson that no amount of words could have driven deeper into my thick head. The chi flowed within me again as it had that one time before, but now unrestrained and unlimited. I was untouchable.

  So it went for some time, with Master Voralius racing after me swinging, and me leaping, twisting, flipping, and rolling to avoid being hit. Finally, he bade me stop, and patted me on the back. I was so thrilled with my achievement that I barely acknowledged the pain from his hand on my shallow wounds.

  “You mustn’t think me too cruel for beating you. We usually reserve the switch for journeymen, but as you’re well aware, we’ve accelerated your training considerably. Everything has a purpose. In this case only the repeated blows while your body is under duress from being weighed down can release the proper amount of chi. With your mind distracted and your muscles forced to perform at their peak, the twelve meridians of your body fully open releasing chi from your core to the very tips of your fingers and toes.”

  “Meridians?”

  He waved a hand dismissively. “You’ll learn more about meridians as a journeyman. For now, consider them an invisible pathway within your body like your arteries and veins, only instead of carrying blood from one part of the body to another, they transport energy. By nature, they stay closed and most people other than peacekeepers will never know otherwise, nor become aware of their existence, performing their duties through muscles alone.”

  I nodded to show my understanding, still enthralled by this new milestone.

  Satisfied my curiosity on meridians was satisfied, he continued. “Once your chi simmers and we remove the weights, the full benefits of the buoyancy technique are revealed.”

  “Master, it felt…incredible.” I could not find words to describe the rush of energy that had electrified every fiber of my body. When I last performed for High-Master Chendor without weights I had felt light and free, but this extended the strength of my muscles far deeper, like comparing a brick to a bean.

  “Good old Krellus lacked the heart to raise your training to the next level so he’ll be thrilled to learn I’ve taken care of it. We will practice this way every morning. After a week or two, you’ll find the ability to summon your chi at will without the switch. By practicing further, you shall strengthen the amount of chi available until you have what you require for any situation.”

  It surprised me to hear that Journeyman Krellus had not wanted to train me with the switch. He truly cared about me in a way no one else did, other than my mother. A pang of longing surged through me at the thought of her. How I missed her so and could not wait for our reunion! Perhaps I would see her sooner rather than later if I made journeyman quicker through this experimental accelerated training program.

  “You are doing very well,” Master Voralius continued, “so keep up the practice. Once you have mastered the buoyancy technique there are many others to be considered. You are close to finishing here.”

  He bowed to me and glided away, leaving me alone to stretch my aching legs and arms. As I did so I recalled Spaldeer’s advice from last night and achieved an epiphany. The timing could not have come better for I now understood fully what to do with the pouch of beans.

  It wasn’t until nighttime before I could test my newfound confidence. A full day of training, chores, meals, and one invigorating hot shower preceded my bedtime, but once I returned to my room I had the pouch out in no time.

  It was simple, really, now that I had put the pieces together. The beans rustled against each other because the throw jostled them together. I had to throw the pouch in a manner that did not disturb the contents. A simple concept, of course, but not readily achieved. However, when I jumped without the weights, I felt lighter and more capable than I did while wearing the weights. In addition, I now had an inkling how to voluntarily invoke my chi. It was a matter of focus, breathing, and mental concentration. The chi had always lay dormant within me, but the blows from the switch had reflexively brought my chi to the surface. Words cannot properly explain this, but once the inadvertent reflex occurred, it trained my body and mind on how to replicate the process. The rest would come with patience and practice.

  I snatched the pouch from the drawer without saying a word to Spaldeer, who was in bed holding a book while watching me with raised eyebrows. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and remembered what had happened that morning. I focused deep within myself, centering my mind’s eye upon my middle, an inch or two below my navel. And then, I exhaled while tossing the pouch, exerting my concentration to keep the beans within still while the pouch launched from my fingertips.

  “Impressive, my dear altbrud. They were much quieter that time. Have you then figured out what I tried to explain last night?”

  I snatched the pouch from the air as it descended, laughing loudly. The feeling from the morning had returned and I could sense it, as though it were tangible. It was raw and unformed, but I knew through experience that repetition and diligence would shape and mold it into whatever I wanted, just like with my body and the techniques I had mastered. “Yes, and no. Your words definitely h
elped but this morning’s exercise cinched it.”

  Spaldeer chuckled. “Ah, so that was the purpose of Master Voralius’ early visit. To train you while Journeyman Krellus is away.”

  Nodding, I tossed the pouch again and again, thrilled to hear it make less noise with each repetition. “Indeed. A painful lesson, but one well worthwhile.” I showed him the gashes on my back and legs which stung after the long day of activity and sweat, even after the cleansing shower.

  Spaldeer sat up and frowned. “Those do look painful. Perhaps that explains the package on your bed.”

  “My bed?” I walked over to see a small brown package resting near my pillow. I tore open the paper to reveal a small tub of a foul-smelling ointment. A note simply said, “Apply liberally before bedtime. Master V.”

  The salve numbed my wounds, and by morning, they were nearly healed.

  After a week of these special morning training sessions the switch only struck me half the time even with the weights on. There is a feeling in the pit of one’s stomach like another appendage you can manipulate at will that provides bursts of energy. This metaphorical muscle started off weak, but I learned how to invoke it at will, and it strengthened.