by Alex Cannon
Gidas stood on the balcony watching two men hack away at each other with large wooden staffs.He was quite bored. The men below were excellent fighters and were no doubt some of the best trained warriors at Jahvel’s school. But his admiration for such skills was admittedly low.
The school was called Cznia Mizrak in the old tongue of the east.Most people simply called it Jahvel’s.It was where men went to learn the art of martial combat, both weaponless and with every weapon known.Gidas snorted. He had never needed to use his fists to solve problems.
The morning air was cooler today. He stood on a breezy balcony looking out over a rich blue sky and flat, lightly wooded land.He moved back into his simple but elegant room. He had a huge four-post bed, two heavy desks with elegant gilded lamps.He had his own privy and a huge fireplace well tended by the staff of Jahvel’s.Covering the floor was a thick rug.
A knock disturbed his thoughts.
“Yes?” he called.
“Master Lazerek would like you to come to his quarters right away,” came a muffled voice from the other side of the door.
“Yes, tell him I am on my way.”
“Yes, sir.”
He washed his face and put his shoes on. Lazerek seemed to want his attention every waking moment. Half the time Gidas did no more than just attend to him and waste the day away doing nothing.Sometimes his master would deign to teach him some piece of obscure magic but to what end he could not imagine. Oh, the games these mages played.
He collected himself, and made his way to Lazerek’s room. The halls in Cznia Mizrak were designed to commemorate Jahvel’s numerous victories in battle. Numerous tapestries depicted battles won and enemies vanquished, how enrapturing.Jahvel seemed to have no shortage of immodesty, the entire school being a shrine to his greatness.People said there was no better fighter in the land than Jahvel—even the Osaban Priests were said to pale in comparison to his skill. Gidas doubted that, but had seen nothing to convince him either way. When you got right down to it, who really cared who could defeat whom?
Jahvel was no longer young, but the man still looked in the prime of health. Gidas wondered what was happening with all this slowing of age.Jahvel did not look much younger than himself, and he knew the man had to be as old as Lazerek. Well maybe. If Lazerek was really over two hundred-fifty years old, then Jahvel looked like a newborn pup.
He knocked on Lazerek’s door.
“Come.”
He opened the door.
Inside were Jahvel, Lazerek, and a few of Jahvel’s men.Jahvel did not seem to be able to go anywhere without his small entourage.
Lazerek’s room was more like a small house. It was a monument to opulence—from the thick rugs to the shiny wood, from the ornate tapestries to the heavy gold lamps. He tried to catalogue all of them in his brain, but it was futile.This visitor’s room was set up strictly for the most powerful individuals in the land and Gidas thought it was aptly decorated.His eyes landed on Jahvel.
Jahvel was a man with a body made for hand-to-hand combat. He stood over every other person in the room by at least two inches.His hair had some slight graying at the edges. His skin was a light, almost yellowish, hue. His eyes were glistening coals of fire. His nose was long and angular, and his mouth was a thin line. Although Jahvel stood still, it appeared he could strike suddenly.He stood in what Gidas thought was an odd stance.He seemed to be leaning back constantly with his arms crossed.
Jahvel’s hand rested on Gamaliel, the ancient dagger of the gods. It had been crafted by the god Bzok many thousands of years ago who imbued it with part of his spirit, providing some imperviousness to magic.He sensed a begrudging respect between the two men, but no friendship. They spoke to each other cordially, but it was obvious that Jahvel did not treat Lazerek with the same deference that every other person they had come across did.
“You sent for me, master?”Gidas said bowing slightly. Jahvel attacked him with a stare.
Lazerek was just putting away his silver flask.
“Yes.We are departing Cznia Mizrak soon and I want to make certain you retrieved the books I have requested from Jahvel’s library.”
Gidas nodded.”Yes Sir, I have them in my bag, ready to depart.”
“Excellent, those books will be helpful in our search for that damned hidden temple.It has come to my attention that something has gone wrong to the south and we must get there with haste.”
“Yes, sir.” Gidas found an out of the way place where he could stand.He was not dismissed, but it was clear Lazerek was done with him. He was not allowed to leave the room so he had to endure simply standing and waiting. If he was not in yelling distance, Lazerek seemed to become irritated.
Lazerek turned back toward Jahvel.”I appreciate the force of men you are sending with us.But I am not certain if it is necessary.”
“Aye, I believe that it is necessary,” Jahvel started; his voice was untamed, yet genteel.”The word has gotten out that another hunt for the Swords is afoot and everyone is jumping on the wagon. You will have many bands of thieves, cutthroats, burglars, and their ilk running about the countryside hunting for the three Swords of Saddig.This land is about to become another madhouse, and you are leading the way.”
“I shall be quite safe. I am a mage.”
Jahvel stood taller.”We make good partners, and if, by my sending more men, helps you retrieve the swords, especially Bellatrix, it is worth it.”
Gidas almost laughed out loud.Lazerek would never share power.Perhaps that is why Jahvel wanted to send his own men with Lazerek so they could keep watch on him.Gidas knew Lazerek’s power and Jahvel and his entire school had no idea of what real power was. Lazerek needed no man to protect him. Bellatrix would belong to Lazerek, and no other. At least not for a while.
“We do make a good team,” Lazerek lied.”I will accept your men in our group. You are sending me with your Sicari, correct?”
“Of course, they are the best.”
“Excellent.”
With the addition Jahvel’s fifty men, the party was now quite formidable.