Hidden Ability (Book 1) (3 page)

Darla sits in her chair and studies Jalan. He does not know what she is thinking, but he feels the weight of her gaze upon him.

“Go to Master Chander,” says Darla. “Tell him that I want a list of all the materials required to repair and finish the windmill. Be sure you understand everything on the list and how it will be used. You will oversee the work, Jalan.”

Darla’s words are a relief to Jalan and bolster his sense that repairing the windmill is the right thing to do. He worries a little about overseeing the work, but he worries more about what his mother will think. “What about mother? What will she say? We can’t do anything without telling her,” says Jalan.

“We won’t do anything without telling mother,” says Darla. “I will speak to her. Don’t worry. She will understand. You are not the only one that has seen our mother cry.”

Δ

Once she sees Tomac and Jalan out of her study, Darla considers what she will tell her mother, Lady Shara. It has been two years since her father died. Two years of deep grief for her mother. At first, Darla did not understand. Even now she only sees it from the outside. She lost her father. Her mother lost the love of a lifetime. Even wounded by loss, Lady Shara has done her best to stand behind Darla and support her as she struggles to lead House Yen. Darla knows she has grown stronger and more capable out of necessity and from the love her mother gives her. Lady Shara has the love of her children, but Darla can see it is not the same as what her mother and father shared with each other. Lady Shara drew great strength from Lord Hallis. When Lord Hallis died, Lady Shara gave over to Darla those things her mother’s strength could not handle alone.

It took time for Darla to realize that she could not be her father. That even attempting the comparison was unfair to both of them. Her father had made many good choices. But, trying to do everything exactly as Lord Hallis did it caused stagnation. Like her father, she learned to look at the present circumstances and not simply past precedent. Darla discovered that her father had often experimented with everything from what crops to plant to the methods for harvesting and the use of the harvest. It was very freeing to learn that her father did things without knowing how they would turn out. And, there were times he failed. That was the most shocking revaluation of all. You could try, and fail and simply try again.

Darla was much more comfortable and confident in her role as Lady Darla Yen after two years of hard work and the experience she gained. But even her greater confidence could be shaken by the largest of her responsibilities. It was one thing to test a new crop in one field and another to make a decision that affected every holding of House Yen. The large responsibilities could still leave Darla feeling small. And, one of the largest has just left her study. She remembers when Jalan arrived. Darla was seven. It was fall and the weather had turned cold. Her mother entered the manor with a bundle in her arms. Even then Darla new something significant was happening. She was ever curious and gathered with the rest of the children around her mother. Darla recalls the look on her oldest sister’s face. Guri knew what the bundle meant and looked surprised by it. Mother unwrapped the bundle and showed them a little baby even smaller than Tomac. Mother said his name was Jalan and he would be their new baby brother.

When Darla became Lady Darla, her mother said to encourage Jalan whenever he shows initiative. She said Jalan would be a leader one day and needs every experience that will help him become a great one. Darla knows Lady Shara was not thinking of anything like Jalan’s proposal to fix the windmill when she gave Darla those instructions. Jalan is right. Their mother broods. She watches the windmill and then hatches her grief anew. Her grieving stagnates the same way that House Yen stood still and lost vitality when Darla tried to do everything exactly as her father had. If the windmill changes into a working tool for the living, perhaps her mother will be able to let go of what the windmill was and accept the new life of what it becomes.

Jalan has shown her something. Darla has always thought of him as her little brother. Today she feels she has her first look at the man Jalan might become. He saw into the core of a problem that Darla had puzzled over. The windmill truly is a slowly decaying monument to their mother’s grief. Darla does not know if completing the structure will help, but bringing it out of stagnation, taking it beyond where her father was forced to leave it, is the right thing to do. It is what he would have done. Perhaps her father’s vision and Jalan’s love will transform the windmill into a beacon that can help guide her mother’s heart out of darkness.

“Keep your guard up!” bellows Lieutenant Burk.

Jalan is hot, tired and slick with sweat. He raises his practice blade higher just as the lieutenant moves to slash at Jalan’s thigh. Jalan steps back with his right leg and sweeps the tip of his blade in a circle to intercept Lieutenant Burk’s attack.

Lieutenant Burk curves his slash upward toward Jalan’s head and Jalan is forced to twist his body and pull the hilt of his blade up in order to reposition his weapon and block the new attack.

At this point, Burk lifts his front foot and kicks Jalan, which sends the boy sprawling.

“Balance! What kind of stance was that? My grandmother could have taken you boy.”

Jalan raises his arm and reaches for the lieutenant’s offered hand. After the boy is back on his feet, Burk continues.

“If you are going to step back, step all the way back and plant that heel. Where does your power come from boy?”

“My heel,” says Jalan for what he is certain must be the thousandth time.

“And!” calls out the lieutenant.

“My hips,” responds Jalan.

“And don’t forget it. Ready to try again?”

Jalan learned early in his lessons that the lieutenant wouldn’t ask for another round if he believed Jalan was too exhausted to hold the practice blade. At first, that only took a few rounds of sparring. Now, Jalan could go 10 rounds of the sand glass. Lieutenant Burk claims the sand runs for 3 minutes, but Jalan is sure it is closer to 6. There are always the occasional breaks in the routine whenever Jalan has to pick himself up off the ground. He tried taking his time getting up, but Burk only went at it harder when he thought Jalan was slacking off. It is easier to get up and spar then to nurse all the extra bruises Burk gives him.

Sparring is not the only method Burk uses to build Jalan’s stamina. After all, there was no laying-on for the first few months as Jalan worked on stance, strikes and blocks. Jalan runs every day and everywhere he is ordered to go. He climbs ropes too. At first he was allowed to use his legs. Now it is hands only and Burk makes him wear a sack strapped to his back with rocks in it.

Captain Erida teaches him about horses. The Captain calls it horsemanship. He says Jalan rides better than a plowboy. Jalan is sure that it is not a compliment. Still, the Captain seems satisfied with Jalan’s ability to care for a horse and it is a lot easier that sparring with Lieutenant Burk.

After the first year with the sword, the lieutenant started teaching Jalan to fight with short sword and knife. Jalan was surprised how similar knife fighting is to sword fighting, at least as far as target areas and slashing were concerned.

Once Burk felt Jalan attained a reasonable grasp of blade weapons, he had another lancer named Sedic start teaching him about slings and bows. Eventually, Sedic added throwing knives as well.

Captain Erida has Jalan drill with the lancers to learn how to fight while mounted. They use lances and sabers. But, Captain Erida makes Jalan train with a staff as well. He tells Jalan that horses fall and lances break, but a man has to be prepared to fight on.

Jalan enjoys all the training. He makes certain never to tell anyone that, not even Tomac. It is frightening to consider what Burk might come up with should he suspect Jalan is having fun. Still, he likes the physical and mental challenge and he doesn’t mind showing up Tomac when they go hunting. It isn’t obvious why he needs to know so much about weapons and horsemanship, or things about tactics that Captain Erida also teaches him. Perhaps they expect him to be a lancer someday. Jalan is too busy every day to worry about it. He is having fun and does not want to spoil it by asking too many questions. And, usually, the answers become obvious by the time Jalan needs to know them. Although, when the stranger arrives it might have been better to know some things ahead of time.

The stranger’s arrival does not cause a panic, but Captain Erida’s reaction does. Captain Erida is discussing the Chalmar Wars with Jalan when he glances at something behind Jalan. Erida drops the stick he is using to diagram troop movements in the dusty ground and springs from a crouch to standing while drawing his sword in one fluid motion. Jalan thought it was graceful, impressive and frightening. Almost without thinking, Jalan launches from his crouch into a forward roll that brings him to his feet behind Erida where he spins to face whatever danger made the captain draw steel.

A man of average height with lean features and white hair is walking toward them. The stranger is not carrying any weapon that Jalan can see.

“Lieutenant!” shouts Erida over his shoulder without taking his eyes off the white haired stranger. Jalan’s heart is pounding as he watches the man continue to walk toward him and the captain as though nothing unusual is happening.

“I am Krenis Enmar,” says the stranger.

“I know who you are,” says the captain in return. “The question is what do you think you are doing here?”

Lieutenant Goss and three other men storm around the corner of the stables at a full run. They all have weapons in hand as they sprint toward Erida, Jalan and the stranger.

“Captain,” says Krenis Enmar in a soft voice that carries a strong undercurrent of disapproval despite his mild tone. The man stops walking forward and stands looking relaxed and unconcerned with the end of Erida’s sword no more than a long stride away.

Erida still does not remove his eyes from the stranger as he throws up his left hand palm out toward the reinforcements and and yells, “Hold!”

Somewhat to Jalan’s amazement, they do. All four soldiers stop immediately and wait with weapons at the ready and eyes on the new arrival.

“You haven’t answered my question, Enmar,” says Captain Erida as he returns his left hand to his sword hilt.” Jalan notices the captain had taken a strong defensive stance. That seems odd because the stranger is unarmed.

“I’m here on the kings’ business to speak to the head of House Yen,” says Krenis.

Jalan sees some of the tension slip away from Captain Erida’s shoulders and back. He does not lower his sword. Lieutenant Goss and the three men with him still stand ready as well, but they exchange glances with each other, eyes no longer locked upon the stranger.

“You have a copy of your orders?” asks Erida.

“I do,” replies the stranger who sounds completely at his ease and entirely in command of the situation even though he stands alone against five armed men with more arriving as he speaks. “May I present them to you, captain?”

“We are servants of the king,” says Erida as he lowers his weapon and eases the blade back into the scabbard strapped to his left hip.

“And the king is the servant of the people,” says the white haired stranger as he slowly reaches into an interior pocket of his dusty weather stained jacket and withdraws a small leather messenger’s tube.

The words each man speaks seem like part of some ritual. Judging by the orders Lieutenant Goss starts issuing and his cajoling of the gathering crowd to move off and be about their business, things are, if not normal, then at least no longer on the verge of bloodshed. Jalan decides to remember those words.

Captain Erida looks up from a parchment he is reading. He holds the open leather tube. Its cap, covered in the remnants of a green wax seal, dangles by a string from the open end. Given the look on Erida’s face, Jalan expects to be ordered to labor in the stables. It takes him a moment to comprehend the words when Erida says, “Take Messenger Enmar to Lady Darla immediately.”

When Jalan takes a moment too long trying to sort out this strange turn of events, Erida barks out, “Today!”

“You can hardly blame the boy for being confused,” says Enmar. “A moment ago you wanted to split me down the middle with your sword.”

“I still do,” says Erida.

Krenis Enmar laughs deeply as he turns and starts walking toward the manor house without waiting for Jalan.

Krenis strides toward the manor. It has been years since he set foot in the place, but he is certain the front door is right where he left it. No one can say he has not been patient. But the boy is so old now. It is time to begin real training.

The boy arrives after jogging to catch up. He appears to be lean and fit. Grime covered from whatever Erida had him doing; his sun bleached hair is matted with dirt and sweat. The perspiration has carved rivulets through the filth on his face and soaked through much of his clothing which also carries its own layer of dust.

As the boy is about to speak, Krenis raises one finger. “Jalan is it?”

“Yes,” replies the boy.

“Yes, what?” says Krenis in a firm voice.

Jalan appears to consider a moment before answering, “Yes, sir.”

Krenis nods approval and asks, “You’re not going into the house like that are you?”

The boy looks truly puzzled and says, “Like what?” And belatedly adds, “Sir.”

He’s quick.
“Are you going to wash up first?”

“Well, err...” stammers Jalan.

“Go get a bucket of water. Wash your hands and douse your head. One does not enter the presence of the head of a landed house while wearing most of that land upon his person.”

“It’s just Darla. She’s seen me before.”

Krenis smiles and says, “I’m sure she has. Now go on.” When Jalan still hesitates he adds, “I’ll wait here.”

The boy shrugs and leaves with the air of a child complying with one more pointless adult demand.

A few minutes later a wetter and cleaner Jalan returns. “I’ll take you to Darla now,” he says.