Mercy's Trial

by Sever Bronny

  “You have proven that you are its future.”

  “But sir, you know I have no interest in becoming king—”

  “I am painfully aware of the way a teenage mind works, Stone. In time, you will change your opinion. The kingdom needs a good and just king.”

  Augum sighed, not wanting to argue the matter yet again. “But I understand what you mean.”

  The Grizzly’s shoulders relaxed as he took another sip of tea. “Good. Do you know what makes a good commander?”

  “Tactical knowledge and a practical—”

  “Patience and decisiveness. That’s what makes a good commander. When your back is against the wall, when you’re down and beaten and lying half dead in some bog and everything looks like hell, you’ll need the patience to come up with a plan and the decisiveness to execute it.” He nodded. “Don’t rush things, Stone. It’s important. Critical, in fact. Do it by the book. Follow your code. Delegate when you need to—your recent mock battles show there’s room for improvement in this arena.”

  Augum nodded along, knowing the man was right. He was a little reluctant of late, opting to undertake danger himself instead of letting others share the risk.

  “Oh, and for the kingdom’s sake, keep that temper in check.”

  “Sir?”

  “Don’t play dumb with me, Dragoon. You have been wronged many times. By this kingdom, by the enemy, by the misinformed. I’ve been watching your reactions when things don’t go well. You get frustrated easily. It shows on your face. You have to learn to get past frustration, Stone. You have to learn to do your job despite it. Your past is your future if you don’t let go of it. Get me?”

  Your past is your future if you don’t let go of it. Who knew The Grizzly could be so profound? “If you’re talking about Teleport, sir, I can assure you that I’m working on the problem—”

  “Are you working the problem or is the problem working you? And I’m talking about more than just Teleport, Stone. Just think about it.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The Grizzly snorted out a growl only for Augum to realize it was in amusement.

  “Sir?”

  “But you really do have to get that spell under control, Stone.”

  Augum smiled. “I’ll figure it out, sir.”

  The Grizzly raised a shaggy brow at him, face going serious again. “You damn well better, Stone. You damn well better.” He looked back at the crowd and spotted Jez making her way over. “Go join that undisciplined woman of yours, Stone,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

  “Yes, sir.” Augum strode off.

  “And enjoy the journey,” The Grizzly barked after him. “The Unnameables know it could be a long and difficult one.”

  Augum nodded his thanks, then smirked at Jez as she passed.

  “Shut up, monkey,” was all she muttered as she sashayed by.

  “So what’d he have to say?” Jengo asked when Augum rejoined their table. “He nag you about your ’port?”

  “A little bit.” Among other things.

  Priya’s eyes narrowed. “What is wrong with his Teleport?”

  “Nothing,” Jengo squeaked, taking a hurried sip of tea, obviously caught out that she recognized the spell’s short form.

  Later Augum found himself dancing with Maxine, one of his protectors. He was conscious of Leera’s gaze occasionally flitting to the pair of them from where she sat with the other girls.

  “So, uh, ready for tomorrow?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  Maxine was a 9th degree earth warlock, twenty-three years old and matched his height. She was the independent no-nonsense sort, having declared on becoming a warlock officer in the Solian army once she hit her ceiling, which hadn’t happened yet. She worshipped The Grizzly, clicking her heels and saluting whenever she saw him in the halls, winning his respect. She had a wide, flat face and wore her flaxen hair in a country style that Haylee had labeled “frumpy and unappealing.”

  “Feel ready to take on the Canterrans?” he pressed.

  “Yes.”

  “Did you always want to become an officer?”

  “Yes.”

  They danced at arm’s length. Her sun-bronzed hands held the back of his neck in an awkward grip as if she did not quite know how to hold him, and were rough and dry as parchment.

  “Do you ever say much beyond a word or two?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you—”

  “We need not be friends, Dragoon Stone. In fact, it is better that we maintain a cool distance as it will increase the odds of your survival in my capable hands. I take my duty on behalf of the kingdom extremely seriously, and will gladly lay down my life protecting you in its service—and I mean that. The greatest gift I can give this kingdom is a good death. But for me to perform that duty, it is best that we remain acquaintances.”

  “That’s … admirable.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, uh, glad you have my back.”

  She did not reply, and they finished dancing without speaking another word. At the end of the song, she perfunctorily nodded before striding off. Augum had the impression she danced with him to fulfill a social quota. To be fair, that was why he had danced with her—they were expected to dance with everyone they knew or were going to work with, for this was a farewell ball and certain Solian traditions had to be respected.

  He noticed that she withdrew a small piece of parchment from a pocket, checked that no one was looking, and read it. She then carefully folded it, closed her eyes, and stood as if remembering something deeply personal.

  Curious, Augum thought as he took his seat back at the table.

  “What’d you two talk about?” Leera asked.

  “Nothing, actually.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Relax, Lee, she’s as interesting as a stump,” Haylee said. “Heard her yapping to The Grizzly earlier. Duty this and duty that. Honor and discipline, blah, blah, blah. I have yet to see a facial expression beyond stone-faced from her.”

  Arthur drifted near. “Dragoon Jones,” he whispered. “I proclaim this an auspicious moment for us to consecrate tradition and dance together.” He extended his hand toward her.

  “Can’t argue with tradition.” Leera flashed Augum a crooked How do you like that? smile and accepted Arthur’s hand.

  Augum watched the slimeball smoothly guide his pirate princess to the dance floor. Like Laud, he too was having serious doubts about The Grizzly’s methodology.

  Fingers snapped before his face. “Hey, hey—no illegal arcanery against fellow students,” Olaf said, adding under his breath, “at least not in front of the arcanists.”

  Augum grinned at the jest, only for that grin to sour when Leera burst with a giggle at something Arthur said. She glanced over at Augum and he quickly looked away.

  “Guess it’s not very Arcaner-like to have him trip over his own feet,” Augum muttered.

  “Just admit you’re jealous and get it over with.”

  “I’d rather drown in a cauldron of acid.”

  “Fine, be the proud bullheaded fool, see what it gets you.”

  “It’ll get me neck massages, that’s what. She’s not going to win. She wins too many verbal bouts as is.”

  “That’s because she’s wittier than you.”

  He smacked Olaf’s chest with the back of his hand. “Shaddup.” But then he smiled. “Shall we all go over the plan one more time tonight, or prior to departure?”

  “The Grizz scheduled one last assembly in the morn. Don’t you have the plan memorized by now?”

  “Eat, sleep and breathe it. But my great-grandmother always said the key to mastery was review.” His main concern was the Canterrans storming through the gap, gaining a foothold, and preventing the sealing of the dome. If that happened, the academy would fall.

  Augum spotted Naoki Tenzay, his other protector, having an in-depth conversation with Bridget.

  Olaf took a sip of water. “I don’t like that gleam in your
eye. Whatever you’re going to do is probably a bad idea. A terrible, awful—wait, where are you going?”

  Augum, who had gotten up, flashed him a lopsided grin. “Just going to fight fire with fire,” and he strolled over to the two girls.

  “Hey, Aug,” Bridget said. “Naoki was just telling me about some of the more obscure customs in Ohm. For example, did you know they occasionally ingest bloodfruit for ceremonial purposes?”

  Augum vividly recalled seeing the effects of bloodfruit during the war when Leera had ingested some as a last resort to stave off dying from thirst. It had been a disaster, for the notorious fruit had hallucinogenic properties that caused her to mistake him for an enemy and try to choke him to death.

  “To commune with the gods,” Naoki clarified in a sweet voice tinged with the formal accent of her kingdom. The eighteen-year-old wore a traditional amber robe from Ohm embroidered with colorful mountain flowers. She was Leera’s height, had perfect posture, cropped jet-black hair, and almond-shaped brown eyes that reminded him of a girl from the war whom he’d had a crush on—his first crush, in fact, and also a girl who had died in his arms. He had long made peace with that particular death and did not fancy Naoki in that way—no woman could hold a candle to Leera—but the memory nonetheless remained.

  Naoki inclined her head slightly. “I look forward to joining you on your quest and protecting you, Dragoon Stone, which I will do to my last dying breath, as the customs of my culture demand when watching another’s back.”

  “I truly hope that will not be necessary,” he countered. “Dying, that is.”

  “Ah, except eternal happiness amongst the gods awaits those who sacrifice themselves for others. But let us not concern ourselves of such matters on this celebratory eve.” She beamed at Bridget, accentuating a small birthmark near the corner of her lips. “Bridget and I were talking about all sorts of things, and I must confess that she is a brilliant scholar of arcanery, not to mention she is one of the few I know who excels at close-quarter bow combat.”

  “And you’re really good with that staff of yours,” Bridget replied.

  “Not good enough to best Leera’s shortsword when we mock dueled, an impressive feat considering my reach.” Naoki jabbed at Augum with an imaginary staff, which he pretended to parry with his arm.

  “She’s, uh, quite strong-willed,” Augum noted, parrying another imaginary jab.

  “And stunningly beautiful, making girls green with jealousy.”

  Augum nodded in agreement. “Now let’s annoy her.” He extended his hand to Naoki. “Dance?”

  She accepted his hand with a raised eyebrow. “Honored … and intrigued.”

  “Bridge.”

  “Aug.” She did not look impressed.

  Augum led Naoki to a spot on the dance floor where Leera could plainly see them. When she loosely placed her arms around his neck, he could smell her sweet mix of oranges and cedar. Augum could feel Leera’s eyes on them and thought he might just win this silly game after all.

  “I could use your help with something immature,” he began.

  “Like I said, I am intrigued.”

  “My girlfriend is using those goons to make me jealous.”

  “And you want to make her jealous in return.”

  “Exactly.”

  “That is not very Arcaner-like, Dragoon Stone.”

  “I can’t lose yet another battle of wits. She wins too many as is.”

  “Some might say that is a good thing. In Ohm we have a saying, ‘Virtue is crafted together hand-in-hand, one step at a time.’ ” She glanced over at Leera. “But I see what you mean. She’s laying it on thick now—has her head on his shoulder.”

  Augum, burning with jealousy, refused to look.

  Naoki sighed. “What’s at stake besides your pride?”

  “A day’s worth of massages.”

  She pressed a hand to her face as she snorted lightly.

  “What?”

  “You Solians can be quite silly.” She gently rested her head on his shoulder and squeezed his neck almost lovingly, making Augum uncomfortable.

  “What’s she doing now?” he asked.

  Naoki stole a peek. “She’s a puddle of jealousy.”

  “Perfect.” Ha, that will teach her.

  The song ended and they stepped away from each other. He bowed and she inclined her head and curtsied.

  “Dragoon Stone.”

  “Lady Tenzay.”

  Augum returned to their table and plopped back down beside Olaf, who had an arm around a tired Bridget.

  “Was that worth it?” Olaf asked.

  Augum, noticing Leera carrying on an animated conversation with Arthur, narrowed his eyes and squirmed in his seat.

  “Don’t play this game,” Olaf said. “You’ll both lose. Leera’s already super jealous of Naoki. You’re just adding lamp oil to the fire.”

  “That’s the point.” He sighed. “But I suppose you’re right. I should just admit defeat.”

  “Yes, you should, before this gets completely out of hand.”

  “What are you two conspiring about?” Bridget asked.

  “Nothing,” Augum and Olaf blurted simultaneously.

  Bridget shook her head. “Guilty like a pair of thieves caught in a vault.”

  A little while later, Augum felt arms wrap around his neck and chest. “Stubbornfoolsayswhat?”

  “What?”

  Leera snickered. “Will you take this pirate girl out for one last dance?”

  He looked up at her in annoyance only for her to peck him on the lips.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi.”

  “Wow, what a begrudging hi.” A new song began, the enchanting Lover’s Lure. Perhaps at one point in the past, when they had both been far less mature than even now, she would have stormed off in anger. Instead, she twiddled her thumbs and raised a sharp eyebrow. “So … dance?”

  He sighed, trying to play up his annoyance. Yet her face fell as she hovered over him. And that’s when he saw that her feelings, like his, were hurt. He stood, opened his palm, and smiled. “It would be my honor, Dragoon Jones.”

  She smiled back and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor. By then, not many couples were dancing, and more than half the attendees had already departed to begin the nightly rituals before bed.

  He drew her near, inhaling her scent. She wouldn’t meet his gaze and her hands fiddled with the back of his neck. They swayed to the gentle rhythm of the song as candles flickered and died around them, darkening the hall.

  “I’m sorr—” she began, only for him to cut her off by blurting, “You win.”

  “I … I do?” She blinked a few times. “No, it was underhanded. All of it.” She stepped back and extended a hand. “Draw?”

  He took it. “Draw,” and pulled her near again. “You are stunningly beautiful, Dragoon Jones, and exceedingly sly.”

  She snorted but then smiled. “I am a lucky girl.”

  “And I am a lucky boy.”

  The pair kissed.

  The Last Eve

  After the dance, Augum surveyed the equipment laid out on the cot in his austere Arcaner dorm room. Amongst the basic supplies and provisions were a clean amber robe, extra linen undergarments, a wool academy blanket to serve as a bedroll, a canvas tent, and an arcane fur cube that expanded into a coat on command. He also had a Group Teleport scroll, courtesy of senior academy staff—each Arcaner had been provided one in case of emergency—and Burden’s Edge snug in its sheath. Finally, there was Augum’s Defender, a golden arcane Dreadnought breastplate with the words Defendi au o dominia—Defender of the Kingdom—etched above and below the depiction of a ferocious dragon standing before a copse of trees. The breastplate gleamed in the lightning shining on his palm, his face anxious in its reflection.

  For good luck, he also packed his mother’s locket and the birthday charm necklace his friends had gifted him during the war. He opted not to wear either, having learned the lesson that they could be
hazards in combat.

  He heard a distant knock. “Coming,” he mumbled absently. But when he opened the door, no one was there. He popped his head out and saw Bridget, still dressed in her servant gown, standing awkwardly outside Olaf’s room. Knowing Olaf was in the bathing room, Augum thought to play a small prank on her.

  “Hey—this area’s off-limits to women!” he barked in a passable imitation of The Grizzly.

  Bridget jumped with a yelp. When she saw him, she pressed a hand to her chest and hissed, “Gods roast your hide, Augum Arinthian Stone.”

  “Olaf’s bathing,” he said when he finished chuckling. “And Jengo’s visiting Priya.” Only three men were staying in the Arcaner dorms even though they could house hundreds. It made for a lonely experience.

  “Oh.” Bridget straightened. “Uh, is it all right if I, uh, if I wait for him?”

  Augum shrugged. “You know I don’t care. He’ll be done soon.”

  Bridget stood awkwardly, hands wringing, before blurting, “I only wanted to wish him goodnight, that’s all.”

  Sure you did, Sis. But he kept that comment to himself. “You don’t have to justify yourself to me,” he said instead. “I’ve been stealing time with Leera since forever.”

  “Yes, you have. Speaking of, uh, she’s coming—”

  The hallway door burst open. “Cover yourselves, you fiends, because a w-o-m-a-n enters!” Leera sang, hand covering her eyes. She was still dressed in her pirate outfit. “I’m going to count to ten and remove my hand,” she said in an obnoxiously loud voice. “One … two—”

  “You can drop the act and get over here!” Augum called with a grin.

  Leera opened two fingers, revealing a bespectacled smoky eye. “Don’t know what you’re going on about. You decent? You better be, considering you have other company.” She wandered over, smoothing her pirate coat in a dignified manner and giving a perfunctory nod to her best friend. “Bridge.”

  “Lee.”

  Augum leaned against his doorframe and crossed his arms. “You two look hilariously uncomfortable.”

  “Well, you were quite correct earlier,” Bridget said. “We are not supposed to be here. In olden days, men’s and women’s dorms would be locked, with stern minders posted at the doors. There was none of this nonsense of—”