Quest for Lost Heroes (3 page)

'Why don't you visit Maggrig and Finn? They still have that house in High Valley. They'd be glad to see you and you could talk of old times.'

'They were always loners and we were never close. No, I should have died at Bel-azar. Nothing has gone right since then.'

'Death comes soon enough to all men,' said Naza. 'Don't wish for it. Come inside and have a drink.'

'No, tonight I will sit out here and think. No drinking. No fighting. I will sit here.'

'I'll send a jug out to you - and a hot meal. I'll have some blankets brought out too.'

'You needn't do this for me, Naza.'

'I owe you, my friend.'

'No,' said Beltzer sadly, 'you owe me nothing. And from now on I work for my food.'

*

Forty wooden pegs two inches in diameter had been driven into the lawn; each was set some three feet apart in rows of eight. The eight young students stood before the pegs awaiting instructions from Chareos. The morning sun was bright and a light breeze caressed the elm trees which bordered the lawn.

'Now, gentlemen,' said Chareos, 'I want you to walk along the pegs, turn and come back as swiftly as you can.'

'Might I ask why?' enquired Patris, the Earl's eldest son. 'Are we not supposed to learn the use of the sword?'

'Indeed you are, my lord. But you hold a sword in the hand, and that is only one aspect of the bladesman's skill. Balance is everything. Now kindly take your positions.'

The youngsters stepped on to the pegs and made a wary start. Patris moved smoothly out, turned and ran back to where Chareos waited. The other youths followed more carefully. Three slipped and had to make the attempt a second time; these three Chareos took aside.

'You will continue on the pegs until I return,' he told them. One was the fat child, Akarin, son of the city's Elder Magistrate. He would never be a swordsman, but he was a game boy and Chareos liked him.

He took the other five youths to the Run. It had been finished the day before and Chareos was well pleased with it. A long plank was angled up to join a platform of logs some six feet above the ground. The logs were balanced on greased spheres of wood, allowing them to roll gently. At the end of the log run was tied a knotted rope. With this it was possible to swing the twenty feet to the second set of logs and down a greased plank to the ground. The youths looked at the structure, then gazed one to the other.

'Who wishes to be first?' asked Chareos. No one spoke. 'Then it will be you, young Lorin,' said the monk, pointing to the red-headed son of Salida, the Earl's Captain of Lance.

Gamely the boy ran up the plank and on to the logs. They rolled and twisted under his feet and he half fell, but righted himself and slowly made it to the rope. With a leap he sailed over to the second run, released the rope and missed his footing, tumbling to the soft earth. The other youths did not laugh; they knew their turn would come. One by one each of them failed the Run until, at last, only Patris was left. He nimbly ran up the plank and on to the logs. Moving carefully, he reached the rope and then swung. Just before landing he angled his body sideways and, bending his knees, dropped into a crouch. Although the log rolled, his balance was perfect. But the greased plank at the end of the Run foxed him, and he slipped and fell sideways to the mud.

Chareos called them to him. Their fine tunics of embroidered silk were covered in mud and grime.

'Gentlemen, you are in sorry condition. But war will render you yet more sorry. The soldier will fight in rain and mud, snow and ice, drought and flood. It is rare that a warrior ever gets to fight in comfort. Now make the attempt twice more - in the same order, if you please. Patris, walk with me a moment.' He led the Earl's son some way from the others. 'You did well,' he said, 'but it was not innovative thought. You watched and you learned from the errors of your friends. The greased plank fooled you because you did not consider the problem.'

'I know now how to descend it, master Chareos,' said the boy.

'I don't doubt it. But in real war an officer may have only one chance to succeed. Consider each problem.'

'I will.'

Chareos wandered back to the three youths on the pegs. Each was coping more ably with the course, save Akarin. 'Let me look at you,' said the monk and the boy stood red-faced before the Swordmaster as Chareos gripped the flesh above the youth's hips. 'You know, of course, that you are carrying too much weight. Your legs are strong, but your body is out of balance. If you truly wish to become a swordsman, then limit your diet to one meal a day. Make it a broth, with meat and vegetables. No honey-cakes. No sweetmeats. You are a fine boy, but your mother spoils you.'

The other two boys were allowed to attempt the Run, but they fared badly. Akarin pleaded with Chareos to be allowed to try.

'They will make fun of me,' he pleaded. 'Please let me attempt it.'

Chareos nodded and the fat youngster ran at the plank, made it to the logs and wobbled towards the rope. Under his great weight the logs did not roll as badly as with the other youths. He swung on the rope, but lost his grip and dropped into a mud pool. A huge splash went up, followed by a roar of laughter from the other boys.

Akarin hauled himself clear of the pool and stood blinking back his tears.

There was always one, Chareos knew, who had to endure the taunting. It was the nature of the pack.

He led them to a nearby pasture and opened the chest containing swords, masks and mail-shirts. Then he paired off the youngsters, partnering Patris with Akarin. The Earl's son stalked across to the monk. 'Why must I have the Piglet?' he demanded.

'Because you are the best,' answered Chareos.

'I do not understand.'

'Teach him.'

'And who teaches me?'

'As an officer, my lord, you will have many men under your command and not all will be gifted. You must learn to use each man to his best advantage. Akarin will gain more from partnering you than he would with any other boy . . . and I will teach you.'

'So from now on he is my problem?'

'I believe that will be in his best interests - and yours.'

'We will see,' said Patris.

When the afternoon session ended, Akarin had learned a great deal from Patris, but his arms and legs were bruised from the countless blows the older boy landed with their wooden practice blades.

'I will see you tomorrow, gentlemen,' said Chareos, watching as they trudged wearily back to their homes. 'Wear something more in keeping tomorrow,' he called after them.

The following afternoon the youths assembled by the pegs and Chareos came out to them. Akarin was not present; instead, a slim boy stood beside Patris.

'And who is this?' enquired Chareos.

'My cousin, Aleyn,' answered Patris.

'Where is Akarin?'

'He has decided not to continue his lessons.'

'And you arranged this, my lord?' asked Chareos softly.

'I did. You were wrong, master Chareos. When I am an officer I will have no one in my force who is not excellent in every department. I shall certainly have no pigs.'

'Neither will I, my lord. I suggest that you and your cousin remove yourselves immediately. The rest of you gentlemen can begin on the pegs.'

'No one move!' ordered Patris and the youths froze. 'You dare to insult me?' the boy demanded of Chareos.

'You have brought discredit on yourself, my lord,' Chareos answered him icily, 'and I will no longer be at your service. Since these youngsters are your friends, and in some way dependent on your good graces, I shall not ask them to remain and incur your displeasure. There will be no more lessons. Good day to you.'

Chareos bowed to the group and walked away.

'You'll pay for this!' Pat
ri
s shouted.

The monk ignored him and returned to his rooms, his fury hard to control. He was not angry with Patris, but with himself; he should have seen it coming. The Earl's son was a fine athlete, but his personality was flawed. There was in him an arrogance which could not be curbed, and a cruelty which would never be held in check.

After a while he calmed his emotions and walked to the library. Here in the cold, stone quiet of the reading hall he sat and studied the writings of the philosopher Neucean.

Lost in his studies, he did not feel the hours flow by. A hand touched his shoulder.

'The Earl is waiting for you in the Long Hall,' said the Senior Brother.

*

Chareos left the library and walked through the arched gardens towards the steps to the Long Hall. He had expected some reaction to his dismissal of Patris - but a visit from the Earl? And so swiftly? It made him feel uneasy. In Gothir the old feudal laws had been much revised, but the Earl was still the ultimate power in the Southlands and, on a whim, he could have a man flogged or imprisoned or both.

Chareos gathered his thoughts and climbed the stairs to the Hall. The Earl was standing alone by the south window, his fingers tapping rhythmically at the sill.

'Welcome, my lord,' said Chareos and the slim young man turned to him, forcing a smile. His face was fine-featured, his hair long and blond, heat-curled in the manner of the Lord Regent's Court.

'What are we to do about this business, Chareos?' asked the Earl, beckoning the monk to a seat by the window. Chareos sat but the Earl remained standing.

'You are speaking of the lessons?'

'Why else would I be here? You have caused quite a stir. My wife wants you flogged; the Captain of the Guard wishes to challenge you; my son wants you hanged - though I pointed out that withdrawing from lessons is hardly a crime. So, what can we do?'

'Is the subject so important, my lord? There are many swordmasters.'

'That is not the point and you know it, Chareos. You have insulted the heir to the earldom and, in doing so, it could be argued that you have insulted me.'

'The question of right and wrong must be considered,' said the monk.

'The fat boy? Yes. But I want this business resolved. I suggest you invite the child - what's his name? Akarin? - to return to the classes. You can then pair him with someone else, and the lessons can continue.'

Chareos considered the question and shook his head. 'I am indeed sorry that you feel the need to be involved in this . . . petty matter. What with thoughts of the Nadir, the Slave raids and the many duties you face, this is an unnecessary irritant. However, I do not see that the resumption of lessons is what is called for here. Your son is highly gifted, but arrogant. Resumption of lessons will, for him, be a victory. It will be the better for the boy if he is placed with another master.'

'You speak of arrogance?' snapped the Earl. 'He has every right to be arrogant. He is my son - and we of the House of Arngir are used to victory. The lessons will resume.'

Chareos rose and met the Earl's icy stare. 'I should point out, my lord, that I receive no pay. I chose - as a free man - to administer the lessons. I choose as a free man to cease them. I am contracted to no one, and therefore am not under the law.'

'Then you are telling me that the insult to my family stands? Be careful, Chareos. Think of what that means.'

The monk took a deep, slow breath. 'My lord,' he said at last, 'I hold you in the highest regard. If you feel that my actions have brought discredit to you, then accept my sincerest apologies. But at the beginning it was made clear to the students that, in the matter of my lessons, they had no rank. There would be no privilege. Patris not only dismissed one of my pupils, but stopped the others from obeying a command. By all the rules that he - and you - agreed, he had to go. I cannot reverse that decision.'

'Cannot? Say it honestly, man. You will not.'

'I will not.' A cold silence grew between the men, but the Earl seemed unwilling to end the meeting and paced by the window for several minutes.

'Very well,' he said finally. 'It will be as you say. Logar will take over the duties of Swordmaster. I will see you, as agreed, at the castle hall on Petition Morning.'

'You still wish me to practise with you, my lord?'

'I do. Or are you withdrawing from that duty also?'

'Not at all, sir. I will look forward to it.'

The Earl smiled. 'Until then,' he said, turning on his heel and striding from the hall. Chareos sat down, his hands trembling and his heart beating wildly.

It did not make sense for the Earl to retain him, and he had an uneasy feeling that the next practice would not be a pleasant experience. Was he to be publicly humiliated?

He wandered to the window. Now would be a good time to leave. He could travel north to the capital, or south-east into Vagria. Or even south through the lands of the Nadir and on to Drenan and the Great Library.

He thought of the twelve gold coins he still had hidden in his room. He could buy two horses and supplies for a journey. His gaze flickered around the Hall; he had been almost content here.

His mind journeyed back to the last night on the gate-tower, as they sat with Tenaka Khan, the violet-eyed Lord of the Nadir. 'Why did you let us live?' whispered Chareos.