Jabberwocky (5 page)

It seemed half the town was waiting when Tjaden exited. Unable to control his excitement, he thrust a clenched fist into the air. That, along with the triumphant look on his face, sent the crowd into jubilant celebration.

Before Captain Darieus mounted, he approached Tjaden’s father and in a voice not meant to be heard over the crowd said, “The young lady who…” The townspeople swept Tjaden away and he heard no more.

Although Tjaden knew the next six weeks would feel like six years, he was caught in a swift current from crowd to throng to celebration. An impromptu feast was held in Tjaden’s honor. The residents of Shey’s Orchard converged on the wabe bringing food, musical instruments, and a euphoria that Tjaden had never experienced.

Despite his exhilaration, one small part of him questioned if he had truly earned the invitation. Tjaden would never pass up the chance to become an Elite, but this was not how he wanted it to happen. He was grateful to the townspeople for not bringing up the fact, though he was sure he had lost some respect in their eyes.

Elora attended with her family and they were even more excited than Tjaden had expected. After warmly congratulating Tjaden, Elora’s father, Aker, said, “Well, Elora, are you going to tell him the good news?”

Elora took him by the hand and led him through the mob of well-wishers to a spot at the edge of the wabe.

Tjaden couldn’t wait. “What is it?”

“You’re not going to believe it. Captain Darieus wants Father and me to go with you to Palassiren for the induction ceremony!”

Tjaden, already slightly immobile in Elora’s presence, was paralyzed.

She continued in the best imitation of a gallant voice she could manage. “I am to ‘recount the heroic acts and selfless display of courage,’ and ‘relate the ferocious and brutal nature of the frumious bandersnatch’.”

“No,” Tjaden exclaimed at the thought of being made an example for the other recruits.

“No?” Elora responded in surprise.

“No. Yes!” He was torn by conflicting emotions.

“Yes?”

“No…yes you should come, but no I don’t want a big deal made. I know how competitive those men will be, and this’ll just make my life harder.”

“Well I’m proud of you. And I’ll tell the whole world if I get the chance.”

“Elora,” Tjaden said awkwardly. “I didn’t do it for the whole world. I did it because you…” he grasped her shoulders and almost forgot what he intended to say when he stared into her brilliantly dark eyes. “You, not someone else, were going to die if I didn’t do something.”

“So you decided to die instead of me?” Elora’s eyes somehow grew even wider and he couldn’t tell if she was angry or appreciative.

“What do you call clubbing a bandersnatch on the side of the head? If that thing had an ear it would be deaf now.”

Elora grinned as Tjaden continued, staring down into her eyes, “Besides, I’m still here. But I would have died for you.” High on his recent success he continued with uncharacteristic boldness. “For you I’d catch a live Jubjub bird, tame it, and teach it to say ‘Elora’. For you I’d fight a dozen bandersnatches using a fork for a sword and a corncake for a shield. For you I’d visit every town in the kingdom to prove there is no one to match your beauty. For you I’d kill the mighty Jabberwock.”

Overcome, Elora wrapped her arms around him and disappeared in his embrace. For the first time in his life he wished he never had to leave Shey’s Orchard.

Elora’s voice came out muffled. “Just come home, Jay. Come home.”

He wished he could stay there all night, but the crowd swept the pair back to the celebration. His exultant mood had little to do with the festivities.

The next day Tjaden asked Ollie to accompany him as his Fellow. True to form Ollie responded, “Of course I’m going with you. The real reason they invited you was because they knew I’d be your Fellow.”

“Why didn’t they just invite you?” Tjaden asked, humoring him.

“I’d make all the other Elite recruits look bad. As a Fellow I’ll be able to blend in. It’s for the best.” He nodded confidently.

The days passed so slowly Tjaden felt like he had to physically drag time to get through each one. His arms healed from the damage the bandersnatch inflicted and the bone mended where it had broken. He continued to practice sparring and improve his physical condition. Tjaden felt stronger than ever.

Plans and preparations were made as their departure crept closer. The town as a whole arranged to assist his mother with the groves while he and his father made the trip to Palassiren. Adele, Elora’s mother, insisted that she didn’t need any help. Aker had cast enough rough mirrors for her to finish while he escorted Elora to the capital.

The evening before they were to leave, a more subdued gathering took place on the wabe. It was a chance for the townsfolk, including both of Tjaden’s brothers to wish him and Ollie luck and say goodbye.

The sun had just set when they returned home. His father, looking very solemn, gathered him and Ollie. “After I escort you to Palassiren, it will be over a year until we see each other again.” He paused. “I…want to make sure you know I’m proud of you. Both of you.”

For the second time in two months his father had praised him. Tjaden didn’t know how to react and felt a little uneasy. He realized there was something comforting about his father’s usual stoic nature.

“Ollie,” his father continued, “I have something for you.” He went into his room and came out holding the yew longbow from the auction.

Speechless, Ollie accepted the bow and examined the superb weapon. Tjaden noticed his glance out the window to see if any daylight remained. Surprisingly, there was moisture in Ollie’s eyes.

Tjaden couldn’t resist. “I don’t know which surprises me more, you being speechless or you crying. I haven’t seen you cry since you fell out of that grapefruit tree, how long ago was it? Two weeks?”

Ollie kept his eyes on the bow. “Muzzle it! This is the best bow I’ve ever seen, and easily the finest in Shey’s Orchard. And it’s been six years since I fell out of that tree.”

His father didn’t intervene. Ollie could take a little of what he had dished out for so many years.

“Thank you,” Ollie said as he embraced the closest person he had to a father. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“Wow, at a loss for words for the second time tonight,” Tjaden said. “That bow has changed you already.”

Tjaden was shocked that his father had given Ollie the exceptional bow; they were both convinced it was destined to be Tjaden’s. But the bow was the perfect gift for Ollie. Tjaden should’ve known all along it was intended for his friend.

Before Ollie could retort, his father spoke up. “We’ll see how detached you act after you see this.”

He walked across the small dining area, reached behind the hutch, and withdrew a four foot long object wrapped in burlap. He handed it to Tjaden, who solemnly accepted the gift.

Please be a sword!

His optimism was confirmed. The sword he unwrapped was one-handed, although the hilt was long enough to provide a counter balance and could be grasped with two hands if desired. Wrapping his fingers around the hilt, he slowly withdrew it from the hard leather sheath.

It was not just any sword; it was a masterpiece. Tjaden could only stare, mouth agape.

“Who’s speechless now?” said Ollie wryly.

Tjaden barely heard him. “Where did you get this? I’ve never seen a finer sword in my life!”

The blade was not straight, rather it had wave-shaped edges, giving it the appearance of a dangerous, meandering river. The steel itself was folded, a time intensive method of crafting in which layer upon layer of thin steel was pounded flat, adding strength that a solid cast blade lacked.

“I ordered it from Palassiren. It’s a sword worthy of an Elite. What do you think of the hilt?”

Tjaden flexed his fingers and extended the sword in front of him. Unlike other swords, this one was an exact fit in his large hand. “It fits perfectly! It’s unlike anything I’ve ever held.”

“I had them forge the hilt from a mold of my hand. The blade’s lighter than a straight sword of the same width, but it’s reach is half a hand longer.”

Tjaden continued to marvel at the excellent craftsmanship. Like a newborn foal testing its legs, he cautiously swung the sword. The close quarters forced him to be content with examining the weapon. He felt the edge with his thumb. “Sharp, but not too sharp. Perfect for penetrating armor or bone, but the edge won’t fold the first time I strike steel.”

He longed to spend hours trying the blade, getting accustomed to the length and forging the metal into an extension of his right arm. But night had fallen and the Elites would be waiting for them at sunrise.

After another lingering look at the sword, Tjaden replaced it in the sheath which was etched with flames. The sheath alone would have thrilled him. After leaning it carefully by the front door next to his father’s bow and quiver, he thanked his father as profusely as he knew how.

Ollie carried his bow into the small bedroom they shared. Tjaden’s bed covered nearly half the room, and on the days Ollie slept there they slid the trundle bed out from under Tjaden’s, leaving only two small walkways along the walls.

“You know that would fit better in the front room,” Tjaden said when he entered.

Holding the bow protectively, Ollie replied, “If I’m not mistaken, your dad’s habit of carrying his bow saved your life. Besides,” he added candidly, “I’ve never had anything nice
or
new. I plan on keeping this close.”

Bracing one end of the bow with his foot, Ollie removed the string to preserve the bow’s strength.

Tjaden was convinced this would be another one of Ollie’s fleeting interests but didn’t admit it. “Tough to argue with that,” he said and blew out the lamp.

Sleep was elusive, but eventually came. Tjaden, his father, and Ollie awoke before sunrise. His mother packed a breakfast of boiled eggs and salted pork. The food for the rest of the three day trip to Palassiren would be provided by the soldiers’ cook. Tjaden and Ollie each carried a small pack that contained all they would need at the Academy.

With his sheathed sword belted around his waist and Ollie’s unstrung bow firmly in hand, Tjaden felt like the two of them could take on an army.

Embracing Tjaden, his mother looked into his eyes and said, “The next time I see you, you’ll be a man. Become the man we both know you have in you.” He hugged her again, wiped a tear from her cheek and promised that he would.

Then Tjaden the boy walked out of his house for the last time. The next time he entered he would be wearing the Circle and the Sword.

*****

As Elora approached the meeting place with her father, she didn’t know if the chills she felt came from the cool morning or anticipation of the journey to Palassiren. Tjaden, Ollie, and Mikel were already waiting, but the soldiers, who had arrived in the town the night before, were still arranging provisions for the trip. After greeting one another, the fathers talked about crops and mirrors and work and days away from work.

Elora, Tjaden, and Ollie broke off into their own conversation, speculating on what the capital was like, how hard training would be, and how little each had slept the night before. As long as Tjaden had a topic, he chatted naturally, albeit a little to-the-point. But when a lull arose in the conversation or a topic was exhausted Elora could practically hear Tjaden’s mind spinning as he tried to think up something else to talk about. While she didn’t relish his unease, she did take it as a compliment that he put so much effort into engaging her in conversation, without bragging or talking extensively about things that didn’t matter. He was a genuine person who cared about the things he did, and did the things that were important to him.

The Elites arrived shortly, along with another recruit named Rodin who lived in Peridia, eight days south of Shey’s Orchard. He was accompanied by his father and an older brother, whom he had chosen as Fellow. As soon as they started on the road out of Shey’s Orchard, Rodin sought out Tjaden and proceeded to explain why he had been chosen for the Academy, with strong undertones of why he was the greatest fighter in the land.

Elora heard every word Rodin said to Tjaden. She was sure everyone in the group heard his greatly embellished stories.

Any other boy would brag about fighting a bandersnatch,
she thought
. But not Tjaden.

After establishing himself as the most skilled warrior in the kingdom, Rodin spared a glance for the rest of the party. He barely noticed Elora’s father or Mikel as they discussed the merits of corn as a crop. He didn’t greet Ollie. In fact, he didn’t even seem to notice Ollie. But the unstrung bow at Ollie’s back did gain his attention and he scrutinized it from tip to tip. Shifting his gaze to Elora, he gave her a similar inspection. She was glad Tjaden hadn’t seen.

Rodin was handsome enough, but a pair of strong arms and a nice smile didn’t make up for his arrogance. Elora avoided rash judgments, but it was obvious Rodin and Tjaden were on opposite ends of the spectrum of soldiers and she made it a point to ride as far from Rodin as possible.

The morning sun cast long shadows as the group turned their horses onto the main road, the Telavir Spoke. The road traversed the kingdom, starting at Palassiren, near the center of Maravilla, and laid out a straight path to Telavir, a large shipping city on the coast far to the southwest. The Telavir Spoke was the southwestern leg of the highway system. The capital formed the hub of a large wheel with the major roads spread out in eight directions, known as Spokes. Only the Northern Spoke, which had one sharp bend through a mountain pass, was not a straight route to the outskirts of the kingdom.