Dralin (18 page)

“Private Jornin,” the commander said. “Do
you feel, without reservation, that you are able to do your
duties?”

Frath honestly didn’t know, but wasn’t about
to say so and jeopardize his chances of staying. “Yes Sir. I am
able to do my duties,” he answered immediately while standing.

“I figured as much. Just checking,” the
commander stated as though growing bored with the hearing. “Captain
Unermin,” he said to one of the Guard’s experts sitting in a
gallery to the right of Frath. “I want you to test him in the
training yard and determine if he’s physically and mentally capable
to handle combat and . . . whatever else he needs to be able to
do.”

A man nearly as tall as Frath stood and
smacked his fist to his chest in acknowledgement. Frath had never
sparred against the man, but knew that Captain Unermin was one of
the five best swordspeople in the Guard. He was also excellent in
every other form of fighting and lighting fast too. Fortunately,
Frath didn’t have to defeat him, just show that he would be able to
handle himself mentally and physically.

“This way private,” Captain Unermin ordered
in a commanding voice. Frath jumped to his feet and quickly
followed the officer. They walked through a short hall before
exiting into an open practice area. The sun instantly beat down on
them with the full force of a humid summer. There was no breeze to
move the air and keep them cool, so they all began to sweat
immediately.

A lieutenant ran ahead and grabbed
dull-bladed practice swords from a covered rack along the wall.
They were similar to the swords normally worn, but a little off
balance from use in practice.

Frath easily caught the one tossed at him
and instantly had to roll to the side as the captain came at him,
catching his own in a mid-air leap. It was an excellent test to
check his reflexes, but Frath really wished he had been given time
to warm up. It wasn’t as if Unermin needed any kind of
advantage.

Then the strangest thing happened. As he
rolled into a defensive position, Frath saw the captain’s shadow
move before the captain did. On a gut instinct, he countered the
captain’s motion before it happened. Their swords met and Frath
leveraged his fists to the captain’s face. He was surprised when
they made contact and the captain fell down with a bloody nose.

Frath stepped back, disengaging from combat.
Captain Unermin rolled back and to his feet, coming up ready.
“Hold!” the lieutenant who had thrown them the swords ordered,
coming between the two. Frath stepped back and put the tip of the
practice sword between his feet in an indication he would press no
further.

Captain Unermin threw his sword to the
ground and said a few choice words as Master Verbo and Healer Irmin
rushed up to stop the blood gushing down the front of the officer’s
tunic. Frath looked around and saw everyone looking at him in awe.
More than a few had jaws hanging open. Even Sergeant Gorman and
Bava were staring in amazement at the fact that a private had so
quickly bested one of the best warriors in the city.

It didn’t take long for the two healers to
fix the nose completely. Their healing magic was strong and a
little thing like a bloody nose didn’t faze them at all. Frath
wished they had been around the few times
his
nose had been
busted.

The healers went back to the benches
everyone had settled on. Frath didn’t know if the test would
continue and it didn’t appear that they did either, but it
certainly appeared as if they were hoping so. Members of the Guard
liked good sparring matches.

Frath didn’t really want to spar at that
moment. His heart wasn’t in it, but when the captain bent over to
pick up the sword, Frath decided his heart was just going to have
to deal. He took a defensive posture while the captain twirled his
sword and started circling. Frath heard a couple of cheers from the
audience that were quickly cut off. He wanted to glare at them, but
knew better than to take his eyes off his opponent.

The captain’s shadow did another odd thing.
It silently warned that the captain was going to attack without
relenting. Frath didn’t know how he understood the mysterious
message, but he did. When the attack came, the shadow did
everything the captain did, but an instant sooner.

Even with the forewarnings of movement, it
took everything Frath had to keep up with the man. Two weeks of no
real exercise combined with being thrown across the church by a
goddess and lying unconscious for three days had taken a toll on
his body.

The other problem was that the captain knew
moves Frath had never seen before. Fortunately, Frath was a rapid
study and learned a great deal from the battle. Unfortunately, even
the shadow’s forewarning wasn’t enough to enable him to keep up and
eventually Captain Unermin began landing hits.

Frath wore out more rapidly than usual,
struggling to fight off the blows. Finally, the lieutenant
intervened. “Disengage!” he ordered. Frath stumbled back and
dropped his sword, panting heavily. Captain Unermin raised his
sword as if to deliver another blow, but only for a second before
stepping back and throwing it to the ground in disgust.

They stood there for a minute, staring at
each other. Frath panted heavily, but wasn’t about to back down
even if the captain were to kill him for it. He was certain he had
failed the test miserably.

The Commander came forward with a frown on
his face. “Captain Unermin, I see that you’re upset. Did the
private fail the test?”

“Fail?” the captain asked incredulously, his
expression still livid. “Commander, if you let this man out of the
Guard, you’re a
fool
!” The commander raised an eyebrow.
Captain Unermin explained, “I haven’t been caught by surprise in
years, let alone hit in the face. I threw down everything I had and
that man held his own.” He pointed angrily at Frath. “It was as if
he knew what was going to happen next. If he wasn’t so out of shape
from whatever happened to him, he might have been able to keep up
with me a little longer.”

“Interesting,” the commander said
thoughtfully while looking at Frath. He turned to the other two
committee members. “It seems as if being God-Touched will not
interfere with his duties. It also seems as though we would be . .
. what was the word, Captain?” he asked Unermin, who had the good
grace to blush just a bit. “Fools? Yes, that was it. We would be
fools if we let Private Jornin out of the Guard.”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t want to be a
fool,” The wizard stated dryly. “I say we keep him in the
guard.”

“I concur,” the committee captain agreed
with a smirk.

“So be it,” the commander declared for all
to hear. “Frath Jornin is capable of performing his duties. This
hearing is over.”

“Yeah!” Sergeant Gorman threw a fist in the
air and came over to pat Frath on the back heartily with Bava right
behind. Frath took the abuse as he was led away. He worriedly
noticed Captain Unermin watching him all the way out of the
practice yard.

Chapter
11

Frath’s purple eyes sparkled in the sunlight
as he stood next to the weaponmaster while they watched Pelya
practice basic moves with a wooden sword. The seven-year-old girl
was frighteningly good with it for someone so young. Up to that
point, he had never seen a child wield a sword the way a grown
guardsperson would.

She was wearing small pieces of wood on her
chest and back for armor in addition to small pieces of wood tied
to her shins as greaves. They had been made by a couple of talented
guardsmen specifically for her. Shoulder-length wavy black hair was
tied back in a ponytail and her face was twisted in
concentration.

Pelya was swinging the sword in the exact
same patterns that students were supposed to learn, only she was
more precise in the movements than most of them. The practice yard
was filled with other students being drilled in various routines by
tough instructors with loud voices. The clatter of wooden and metal
swords filled the air while the odor of leather-covered bodies
sweating in the morning sun filled the nostrils.

Frath had seen the grizzled weaponmaster,
Commander Gilron Coodmur showing Pelya a few things here and there.
Each time he demonstrated something new, the commander would stand
back and look on in amazement as she immediately executed the
routines.

After a while, the weaponmaster began using
Pelya as an example of a good student who listened whenever one of
the other trainees was being particularly dense. He even told a
couple that the little girl would wipe the floor clean with them if
it ever came down to a fight. It was an effective tactic that got
many to work harder.

The weaponmaster enjoyed having Pelya around
and was very protective of her. Perhaps it was because she was the
one person he didn’t have to boss around, or perhaps it was because
of her precocious smile.

Gilron Coodmur was forty-five years old and
was still the best person in the Guard with a sword, even better
than Captain Unermin. In addition, he knew how to use every other
weapon ever made and had a knack with improvised weapons. His
training yard had tables, chairs, bottles, wagon wheels and just
about everything else imaginable. He taught recruits how to
confront people fighting with the objects and even how to use most
in a pinch. Gorman was now a master sergeant working for the
weaponmaster and Frath was a corporal, working with new recruits
out in the city most days.

The commander’s hair was mostly grey and
there were numerous hard-earned battle scars all over his sun-baked
body and face. He had been in wars and seen the worst humanity had
to offer. At times, he would begin talking about a battle and then
a look would pass through his hazel eyes before he took a deep
breath and changed the subject.

“You know, when I first heard that a baby
had been brought into the barracks, I was furious,” he told Frath
in his low, gravely voice that sounded like rocks being tumbled
through a river. “Then I saw the little thing. She looked at me
with those lively blue eyes and I knew there was something about
her . . . she’s growing up to be quite the little warrior.”

“Yeah,” Frath agreed. “. . . I don’t know
how to feel about it. I’m scared every time I think about what
could happen to her in this forsaken city.” What he didn’t say was
that he had nightmares about it nearly every other night. He tried
distancing himself from the emotions and fear, but Pelya was the
only thing he loved in the world and he had seriously debated how
he would end his own life if anything happened to her.

“You’re doing a fine job, Corporal. Not only
that, but every person in the Guard is her aunt or uncle and would
die for her,” the commander said, putting a hand of reassurance on
his shoulder. Gilron looked around the busy practice area and at
the blue sky that was clean from early spring rains the night
before. “You know, a few people have thought to complain about the
girl, but I’ve always gone and talked to them about the matter. I
listened to their concerns, of course, but then I set them straight
as to how things were going to be.” He winked at Frath.

“Umm . . . Thank you, Sir,” Frath replied,
not really knowing how to respond. Mostly he was grateful for
having such a well-respected man in his corner.

“Not at all. Pelya is a delight to have
around. I’m pretty sure everyone in the guard showed up for her
birthday yesterday. You’re taking her to Lady Pallon’s today aren’t
you?”

“Yeah, she wants Pelya to meet Ebudae so
they can get into trouble together.”

Gilron laughed loudly. “That sounds about
right. The old lady is an odd duck from everything I’ve heard about
her and her granddaughter is said to have inherited that
oddness.”

“Lady Pallon has been a good friend to me,”
Frath stated defensively. “She’s not great with children, which is
why I haven’t brought Pelya before, but I still like her.”

The commander patted his back in a friendly
gesture. “Of course. I meant no offense. I like odd people. I’m
your
friend after all, aren’t I?” he asked with a wink.

“Yes Sir . . . I mean if . . . I’m just a
corporal, Sir,” Frath stammered, overwhelmed by the officer’s
words.

“Nonsense. You’re my friend. Don’t abuse it,
but I’m here if you need me for anything.” He nodded at Pelya.
“I’ll kill or die for your daughter, both if need be, my friend.”
Frath could only nod. There were a lot of people who felt that way,
but the commander wasn’t just anybody.

“Pelya!” Gilron shouted. “Your father’s
here. Time to go.”

“Aww.” Her shoulders slumped, but then she
straightened quickly and held her wooden sword upright. “Yes Sir!”
she said loudly before going to replace her practice sword and
armor in the locker that had been made specifically for her. Her
voice was that of a child, but had the volume of an adult.

She enthusiastically ran into Frath at full
hug. He laughed and returned the hug, squatting down to be at the
same level. It was the best feeling in the world to hold his
daughter. Pelya was dressed in a bright shirt that matched her
eyes, given to her the day before. Her leggings were sturdy, brown
and plain -- also a gift. In addition, she wore new black boots and
a silver necklace with a hawk, the Guard’s icon. Gilron patted
Frath on the shoulder again. “Have a good day, you two.”

“Thank you, Sir,” he replied.

“I love you, Uncle Gilron,” Pelya said,
attacking the commander with a hug.

“I love you too, little one. Be good for
your father now,” he told her with a genuine smile as he tousled
her hair.

“I will!” She took Frath’s hand. “I’m ready,
Daddy.”

“Alright, let’s go.” They strolled out of
the practice yard, down numerous halls and finally through the gate
into the city beyond.