Trial by Sorcery

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Trial by Sorcery Page 10

by Richard Fierce


  “The opponents we face are probably going to make us look like children with sticks,” I said to Maren.

  “I learned how to defend myself from the captain of my father’s guard,” Maren replied. “I’m sure I can hold my own. How long do you think each match will take?”

  I shrugged. “If they all go like this one, probably not long. Why?”

  Maren looked toward the gate that led to the city and I suspected I knew what she was thinking. She looked back at me and frowned.

  “I have a feeling that Josephine is still here,” she said.

  “I’m sure she is, but you promised to stay out of trouble.”

  “I know, but …” Maren looked toward the city again. “There’s something I can’t explain that’s telling me I need to find her. I think the elderly woman is still alive.”

  I bit my lip and considered telling her to go, but I knew that if she were caught leaving or wasn’t back in time, her chance at proving herself worthy of being a dragon rider would be gone.

  “Just wait until after the test and I’ll go with you,” I said. “It’ll be our date.”

  Maren didn’t reply, but she didn’t leave, either. I turned my attention back to the enclosure and watched the next match. It was one of the nobles who’d hung around with Simon. He lasted a little longer than the first student, but he too lost his match.

  The next five matches were all the same, but the sixth ended up being a lot bloodier. A student who had probably never touched a sword had his hand cut almost in half. The healers were able to mend it quickly, but the student was shaken and was escorted from the enclosure by one of the Curates.

  A portion of the sand inside the enclosure was stained with the student’s blood, a reminder that this test was the most physically dangerous. Despite the presence of the healers, I found it almost barbaric to allow such brutality as part of a test to join the school. Then again, those who passed would be trained for combat, riding dragons into battle and probably seeing more brutal things than what this test offered. Still.

  “Does your father know what goes on here?” I asked.

  “I’m sure he does,” Maren replied. “He considers the dragoons to be the most powerful part of his army. He also knows, like everyone else, that becoming a dragoon is far from easy.”

  “That makes sense,” I said.

  The next student was preparing to enter the enclosure. So far, there had been a different senior student for each match.

  “I wonder how many of these senior students have seen a real battle,” I said.

  Maren didn’t reply, so I turned to look at her.

  She was gone.

  19

  It only took me a moment to decide that I needed to follow her. She couldn’t have gotten very far, so I waited until the match started and I was certain Master Pevus and the Curates weren’t paying attention to anything except the battling students.

  I jogged toward the gate that led to the city, pausing to glance around the grounds of the Citadel. Maren was nowhere to be seen, but I wasn’t entirely sure that she had planned to search the city for Josephine. It would make sense that Josephine would hide in the city rather than within the Citadel somewhere, though.

  With a final scan of the area, I stepped through the gate and into the city. There were a few empty buildings adjacent to the wall that surrounded the Citadel. They appeared to have once been used for warehouse space. A single smaller building was across from them. I was going to continue further into the city, but I noticed that the side door of the lone building was cracked open.

  It could have been nothing relevant, but I decided it was better to check and be sure than to possibly miss something. I walked closer and heard sounds within. There was a muffled cry, then silence. I grew nervous as I got closer to the door. If Josephine and Maren were in there, what help would I be? I wasn’t a sorcerer and I didn’t know how to fight one, either. But if I ran to get help, it could be too late for Maren.

  I swallowed hard and slipped inside the building. There were plenty of windows, but the wall towered high enough that it blocked most of the natural light. It wasn’t dark, but it was dim enough that it gave me pause. There was a long corridor with doors on either side, but at the end of the corridor, it opened up into a large room.

  My palms were getting sweaty and I wiped them on my robes, which only made things worse because of the mud on the garment. Moving as quietly as I could, I headed for the large room at the end. I heard movement and stopped mid-step. Someone was talking, but it was low and I couldn’t make out the words.

  I risked a glance and saw all I needed to. The elderly woman that had been bound in Josephine’s room was on the floor, curled into a ball. Her eyes were closed, but she was breathing. And next to her was Maren. I ground my teeth in anger.

  Maren’s arms were bound behind her back and she was sitting on her knees, a roll of cloth in her mouth. Pacing back and forth anxiously was Josephine. I leaned back against the wall, trying to figure out what I should do.

  “I can kill them both right now,” Josephine said, talking aloud to herself as she paced. “No one will ever find their bodies, but how do I avoid suspicion? That is the problem.”

  By the way she was conversing, it sounded like she was trying to talk herself into committing the deed. Perhaps she had more of a conscience than I knew. And if she wasn’t completely set on the course, maybe I could say something to keep her from hurting them? What could I say, though? I didn’t get much time to think about it, because Josephine paced past the opening of the corridor and stopped when she saw me.

  Her eyes widened briefly, then she stepped behind Maren, lifted her to her feet, and pressed a wicked-looking dagger to Maren’s throat.

  “Don’t move,” Josephine snapped.

  I raised my hands in front of me, palms toward her. “I’m not armed,” I informed her.

  “I don’t believe you,” Josephine said, narrowing her eyes at me. “Who did you bring with you?”

  “Nobody,” I replied. “And I’m not lying. I don’t have any weapons.”

  “How did you find me?”

  “By accident … but the open door of the building was a good clue.”

  Josephine scowled and pushed the blade harder against Maren’s skin, cutting a small line that bled a little. Anger was boiling within me, but I refused to do anything rash.

  “You don’t have to do this,” I said. “Just let them go.”

  “You don’t understand,” Josephine said. “I must do this.”

  “Why? Because that man told you to?”

  “What do you know of him?”

  “Nothing,” I said. “Other than the fact that he radiates evil.”

  “He is evil. If I don’t do this, he’ll kill me.”

  “Not if he can’t find you,” I said. “Turn yourself into Master Pevus and I’m sure he will help you.”

  Josephine laughed. It bordered on maniacal and helpless all at once. “Pevus will be dead before long, and he won’t be able to help anyone. No, no one can help me. I will do this and prove my loyalty to the Necromancer.”

  So that’s what people called him? I wondered what it meant. If we made it out of this predicament, I was going to ask Maren.

  “What for? You murder two innocent people to prove to someone that you are no better than he is? Please, Josephine. Think about this.”

  “I’ve thought plenty about this!” Josephine growled. “There is no other way! It’s either follow his orders or die.”

  I felt utterly helpless. My arguments weren’t seeming to sway the Curate at all, and she seemed so afraid of the Necromancer that she felt she had no other options. I did the only thing I could do. I begged.

  “Please.”

  Josephine stared at me. I didn’t know if sorcerers could read thoughts, but I projected everything I could into my mind that I couldn’t put into words and hoped she would understand. Whether or not that’s what did
it, I didn’t know, but she lowered the blade slightly.

  “She’s your friend,” Josephine said.

  “Yes.”

  “And you came here to help her even though you had no way to fight me?”

  “Yes,” I said again. There was a lump growing in my throat, but I swallowed hard and tried not to let it break my voice, but the tremor was obvious.

  The silence stretched into what felt like an eternity. I started to worry that Josephine was going to ignore my plea. Maren was looking at me, so I held her gaze with my own. Whatever happened, at least neither of us was alone.

  “Maybe if I had …” Josephine started to say, then trailed off. Her eyes hardened, then they became watery, filling with tears.

  “Go,” she hissed, pushing Maren toward me. Maren staggered and fell. I slowly knelt and helped her up, keeping my eyes on Josephine. She watched me quietly, but I could still see the turmoil on her face.

  “Come with us to Master Pevus,” I said.

  “Go,” she repeated, her tone dangerous.

  I nodded and helped Maren to her feet and removed the cloth from her mouth. The elderly woman was still asleep, and when I stepped toward her, Josephine raised the dagger at me. I backed away and grabbed Maren’s hand, pulling her with me.

  “We have to help the woman,” Maren protested.

  “We’ll come back for her,” I whispered. “With Master Pevus.”

  That seemed to ease Maren’s hesitation. We hurried along the corridor to the door. I tried to untie the ropes around Maren’s wrists, but it was difficult to do while we were moving. I pushed Maren through the doorway and looked back.

  Josephine was still there. She hadn’t tried to stop us. The elderly woman was still her prisoner, but I was confident we could reach Master Pevus before Josephine escaped with her. She wouldn’t kill the woman. I knew she wouldn’t. She was too conflicted with herself to do it. As I was about to close the door, Josephine lifted the dagger. I stopped, too horrified to look away.

  The Curate drove the dagger down, into her own chest. I slammed the door closed and cried out, pulling Maren toward the Citadel. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Josephine had stabbed herself. Why would she do such a thing?

  “What happened?” Maren asked, still struggling to get free of her bonds.

  I wanted to tell her, but the words wouldn’t come out of my mouth. My throat was constricted tight and it was all I could do to breathe. We made it back to where the others were, and Maren shouted to get someone’s attention. Everything became a blur for me. The stress of the day, the physical and mental exhaustion, everything weighed on me and I collapsed near the stands.

  Maren screamed. I didn’t know if anyone heard her over the commotion of ringing steel. I didn’t care. I had experienced death before, but this was something different, something so heavy that I didn’t know how I would bear it.

  “Are you all right?” I recognized Master Pevus’s voice, but it sounded far away. “What happened?”

  I pointed toward the way we’d come. “Josephine,” I gasped. “She’s dead.”

  20

  I didn’t know how much time had passed when the storm of emotions finally passed.

  Maren had stayed with me almost the entire time, aside from her test, holding my mangled hand and occasionally whispering soft words or making soothing sounds. We sat in the stands and I was vaguely aware of the other students staring at me and whispering to one another.

  “Let them wonder,” Maren said. “You don’t have to tell them anything.”

  I wouldn’t tell them, even if they begged to know. No one needed that knowledge, that pain. Eventually, Master Pevus came to sit with us. The other students finished their testing, but I barely heard any of the noise.

  “Death is not an easy thing to witness,” Master Pevus said. “Especially a death as tragic as Josephine’s.”

  “I don’t understand it,” I whispered.

  “Neither do I. Not fully.”

  Master Pevus stared at the enclosure quietly. I started to feel a little more normal, though I was exhausted. Everything felt dreamlike, and for a moment I wondered if any of it had even really happened.

  “Do you think you can take the test?” Master Pevus asked. “I can try to push it back, but the decision is not mine alone.”

  “What do you mean?” Maren asked.

  “The council here at the Citadel is only one of many, and we all report to the Conclave. We have orders that the testing must be completed today, but I can send a letter requesting more time.”

  “No,” I finally spoke. My throat was dry, so it sounded more like a croaking noise. “No,” I repeated. “I will take the test.”

  “Eldwin,” Maren said, squeezing my hand. “You need some rest.”

  “No, I’m fine. I can do it. I need to do it.”

  Master Pevus seemed like he was about to object, but he bowed his head and stood up. “Let us get you ready, then.”

  I stood up and followed Master Pevus around the enclosure to where the racks of armor and weapons were. Curate Anesko was there and he helped me put a chainmail shirt on. Some of the other students came out of the Citadel and joined Maren in the stands. I didn’t know why they wanted to watch my test, but I ignored them. I hoped the test would take my mind off everything else.

  Anesko handed me a helm and I slipped it onto my head, then stared at the rack of weapons. There were numerous swords, a few axes, and a single mace. I chose a blade that was closest to the size and heft of my father’s sword and nodded at Anesko. He led me into the enclosure and said, “Good luck. Sebastian is one of the best.”

  I assumed he was trying to make me second guess myself, so I didn’t pay his last comment any attention.

  On the other side of the circular battleground was my opponent, Sebastian. It was impossible to tell if I’d seen him before because he was wearing a helm with a visor. I took a few practice swings, stretching my muscles.

  This was it. My final test. The defining moment that would determine my future. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, then rolled my shoulders and prepared for the bell to ring. A few moments later, the clang echoed across the battleground.

  I stalked forward slowly, watching Sebastian’s posture. He moved with confidence and the ease of a skilled warrior. Perhaps Anesko’s comment wasn’t entirely exaggerated. We circled one another like giant hunting cats, prepared to pounce at any moment. Sebastian made the first move. He rushed me and swung his sword horizontally, trying to strike me in the chest. I lifted my blade and blocked it.

  The blades clanged together loudly. I was surprised at Sebastian’s strength and almost lost my grip on the hilt. Although my right arm was shriveled compared to my left, I was right-handed. I’d tried a few times to use my left arm more, but it felt awkward and unnatural.

  It quickly became evident as Sebastian struck again and again that my right arm could not hold up under the onslaught. He was keeping me on the defensive, and I knew I had to turn the tide against him somehow. I dropped to one knee as Sebastian swung at me, and it left him open as his sword flew harmlessly above my head.

  I jabbed my blade straight into his ribcage. At least, that’s where I aimed my strike. Just as quickly as the opening had come, it was gone, and Sebastian had adjusted his stance. The next thing I saw was his thick boot coming straight for my head. I threw myself backward to dodge his foot and slammed hard onto the ground. The force was a little painful, but I ignored it and rolled to the side and scrambled back onto my feet.

  Sebastian came at me again, his blade glinting from the sunlight. It flashed brilliantly and I was momentarily blinded. I brought my sword up to try and block the blow I was expecting, but it never came. Instead, pain exploded in my knee and flared up my leg. I cried out in surprise and agony as my leg gave out and I crashed to the ground. I released my hold on the hilt and grabbed my knee.

  “Do you need a healer?” Sebastian asked, lifting his
visor. His eyes were creased with worry.

  I don’t know why I did it. Perhaps it was the anger or the exhaustion, but I wasn’t in my right mind. I nodded, but it was a lie. I was in pain, but it wasn’t as bad as I pretended, and it was quickly fading. As soon as Sebastian turned his back to me, I snatched my sword up and drove it into the back of his legs, right behind his knees. A few of the students in the stands cried out, clearly not liking what they saw.

  Red, hot rage flooded my vision and I went to strike Sebastian again, but he crawled out of range on all fours. To his credit, he was still holding onto his blade. I went after him, but he was quicker than I anticipated and got back to his feet and twirled gracefully in a circle, his sword held outstretched. I leaped backward, but the tip of his blade grazed the chainmail that covered my arm.

  I was suddenly overcome with guilt for my actions, but there was no time to apologize. It was obvious that I’d angered Sebastian, for he held nothing back. He pressed his attack, his sword a flurry of strikes that I couldn’t keep up with. He knocked my sword out of my grasp and landed a solid strike across my chest. Throbbing pain erupted across my flesh despite the armor I wore. Between that and my general exhaustion, I knew I couldn’t defeat Sebastian. I collapsed to my knees and put my hands up in surrender.

  “Do you yield?” Curate Anesko shouted from outside the enclosure.

  “Yes,” I tried to shout back, but I didn’t know if he heard me.

  Sebastian removed his helm, gave me one last long stare, then left the battleground. As I sat there in the dirt, the realization that I had probably failed the test began to set in. Not only had I let my anger get the better of me, but I had also given up. None of it could look good for me.

  I slowly got to my feet and returned my armor and weapon to the racks. Maren joined me as I walked to the Citadel.

  “What am I going to do now?” I asked.

  “Nothing until you know your results,” she replied.

 

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