Rebel Elements (Seals of the Duelists) (11 page)

The emperor set his gloves on the table, retrieved his rings, and exited the Archive. Cassander collected everyone else’s gloves and put them back in the box.

“If you need any further access to the Archive, Philo, don’t hesitate to ask.” Wateyo

slipped on his rings. “This has been a pleasant diversion from approving High Way repair requests.”

Philo reached into the bowl for his rings, and came up one short. He
tsked
. “Kipri, son, you missed a ring earlier.”

“I did? I’m sorry.” The young man scooped up a lamp and held it high as he scanned the floor. “Which one are you missing?”

“It’s that gold one I acquired after our little adventure near the Marghebellen border wall. Had that funny symbol on its face.”

Philo and all of his assistants searched the floor around the table, but did not find the ring. Not wanting to keep Lord Eshkin from his duties, Philo called off the search.

“Ah well.” He blew out his lamp. “It’s not like I have no other jewelry. Still, it was a fine souvenir.” Lord Wateyo and Philo locked the Archive door with their keys and returned to the main floor, where they parted ways.

Back in his office, Philo instructed his young eunuchs to sit around the larger of his two work tables. “Now,” he began, opening a desk drawer and lifting up a false bottom. He pulled out a spare gold ring and slipped it on. “It’s time to get those hands cramped and aching. I want a full copy of my tracing from each of you today, and then we’ll begin our comparisons.”

Philo beamed at the boys’ expressions of dismay.
Yes, it’s good to be home.

Bayan trailed Calder and the rest of his classmates along a well-used trail that arced across a windswept plateau covered with bent, dead grasses, then through a narrow tunnel. On the far side of the dark passage lay an oval structure reminiscent of a switchball stadium, open to the sky with a tunnel leading through the center of one long side of its thick outer wall.

On the smooth pebbled surface of the arena, the students huddled in their heavy blue winter uniforms, tucking their icy-cold iron manacles under their armpits and blowing frosty breaths, while six beaming individuals stood before them. Bayan looked at the stances and smiles of his new teachers and cringed. They seemed entirely too excited for his taste.

“Welcome to your first class, trainees,” said the curly-headed Tjaard Staasen, stepping forward with an inclusive gesture. “We’ll lead you to a warmer classroom in a few minutes, but there are some things we can show you here in the Wind Arena that we can’t in the form training classroom. Namely, any magic whatsoever.”

Bayan’s eyebrows rose.

“That’s right. As powerful as duelists are, we must maintain a safe environment for training purposes,” added Wekshi, the Wind Instructor. Her short, stiff braids barely moved in the strong breeze. “You’ve all experienced at least one magic mishap, or you would not have come to the attention of the Academy. We don’t want any more of those to happen while you’re still learning to master your magic, and we don’t want these fine old buildings to be damaged either. They’re hundreds of years old and represent a physical connection to our history.”

Takozen, the sleek Flame Instructor with a hooked nose, spoke next. “There are many exceptions to the indoor magic rule, but everywhere that trainees are regularly expected to be is protected, with the exception of the center of your barracks room. As that is where your hotstone is, I assume you will be wise enough not to stand on it and bake your feet while trying a little premature magic.”

After the nervous giggles had faded, Instructor Staasen spoke again. “We’ll begin today with a little explanation of the way in which magical motions differ from the basic defense moves you all learned in school. This will demonstrate clearly why you will spend so many hours of your life perfecting them.”

“Excuse me, Instructor Staasen? I’m just curious whether that’s true.”

Bayan looked back to see the copper-skinned girl who had reminded him of Imee. Her dark gaze was one of mild curiosity with a hint of smugness, and it was aimed not at the Instructor, but at Bayan.

“Whether what is true, Kiwani?” Staasen asked.

“Well, not all of us attended school in Helderaard, Eikenweer, or Gallenglaas. If someone hasn’t had the full experience of learning the Waarden defense moves, won’t this class be a bit above his comprehension?”

“Bayan,” Calder said in a warning tone.

The darkness had swirled all the way up into his head and was pressing at the back of his eyes. He’d balled his fists and taken a step toward Kiwani without realizing it. If she noticed, she showed no sign of concern.

Several other trainees eyed Bayan doubtfully, but Staasen gave Bayan an easy smile. “Bayan, would you care to show the class your defense competency?”

Bayan jerked his head in a nod, eyes still on Kiwani.

“Then, please, choose your tegen and—”

“Her.” Bayan pointed at Kiwani. To his annoyance, she seemed surprised that he’d selected her as his sparring partner. Who does she think she is, that she could accuse me of incompetence, then expect me not to prove myself directly to her?

Bayan strode over to her, crunching across the pebbles of the arena floor. The other trainees backed away from Kiwani, and only then did her expression change to one of uncertainty. He gave her a perfunctory bow, which she returned a split-second before he grabbed her by the right arm and jerked her off-balance. She bent her knees and tried to twist into a counter-throw, but Bayan had too much strength and momentum in his tug.

He whipped her by the wrist in a big circle. She flew head over heels with an undignified squawk, and thudded onto her back on the pebbled ground. The force of her landing made her wheeze. Before she could catch her breath, Bayan, still gripping her wrist above the manacle, rolled her face down and twisted her arm behind her back. The darkness thudded with every pulse of his heart, and he couldn’t help reveling in it. He jammed a knee on the back of her neck and pushed on her twisted arm, further tightening the lock.

A frantic patting brought him out of the blackness. Kiwani was tapping on his leg. “
Sey, sey
, let go!” she cried, her voice muffled by pebbles.

He let go of her twisted arm and backed away, breathing hard. The other trainees stared at him. A couple of them offered Kiwani a hand up, but she clambered to her feet without help. She waved off her companion Azhni and glared at Bayan.

“I don’t believe such a forceful show was necessary.” She straightened her blue tunic with an indignant tug.

“It answered your concerns, didn’t it?” Bayan retorted.

“Enough, trainees,” said Staasen. “Bayan, please watch your use of force when working with a smaller tegen. And Kiwani, please keep in mind that you are here to train as hard as you can, and then some. This is not finishing school. The trainees who have the hardest time adapting to the level of effort expended in workout classes are the children of nobility. But they all toughen up. You will too.

“Now, let us continue.” He raised his voice to the entire class once more. “Weaponless combat is for the defense of the common masses. A defensibly trained society is a polite society. However, when you train to be a duelist, you learn the difference between theory and practice. In theory, common defense moves and duelist magic are based on identical elements: the six sacred motions.”

Bayan gritted his teeth. Despite knowing all the basic defense maneuvers Dakila’s uncle had taught him in school, he had no idea which six motions were sacred, nor which matched with which element. Since Instructor Staasen had not bothered to list them for anyone, he guessed that his fellow trainees already knew them by heart.

Students and instructors alike backed up to make room as the Staasen waved to Wekshi to join him in the center of the group. Wekshi and Staasen bowed, then she threw a punch at Staasen’s stomach. He parried with a smooth arc and stepped back. She advanced and punched again, this time at his face, and again he parried. After four punches, they paused.

“All parries, all arcs, correct?” Staasen asked.

The class nodded.

“I had to modify those arcs each time, to fit the various attacks my tegen made. This is the defense you know, but take a moment to tell yourselves that you’ll probably never need to use it again.”

“Why not?” Calder asked.

“Because in practice, the six sacred motions are used differently in magical defense than they are in common defense. With common defense, the motions are inanimate, applied to individual situations by the waarden to his tegen. With elemental magic, the motions come alive, and the elements fight for you.”

Wekshi stepped forward, performing a quick maneuver involving different arm positions. She did a stylized spin, followed by a ducking step forward and a double-arm push that didn’t come anywhere close to Staasen.

“Doesn’t look very dangerous, does it?” Staasen asked.

Admiring murmurs rippled through the gathered students. “Pretty, though,” one of the girls said.

“Now watch what these moves do when Wekshi invokes her magic.”

Bayan watched, wide-eyed, as a misty rippling gathered around Wekshi as she repeated the maneuver. The rippling seemed to change color, or possibly texture, as she slid into her low, wide stance. When she thrust her arms at Staasen, who had remained still, the mist around Wekshi hardened into a sky-hued whirling force that blew him backward through the air for several strides before he landed, skidding through the rounded pebbles.

Many of the trainees gasped or made sounds of awe. Bayan overheard Instructor Amyntas whisper to a colleague that she was glad she hadn’t drawn the short stick.

When Staasen stood up, Bayan was surprised to see that his curly hair had frizzed out and crackled with static electricity. The man dusted himself off and returned to the gathered class, then bowed to Wekshi, who grinned and bowed as well. Turning to the students, he patted his frizzed hair and said, “And that, class, is what happens when you let the resident Wind Instructor perform Storm’s Harbinger on you. Her Elemental Invocation—the first motion she made—and its subsequent Wind Invocation aren’t practical moves during a common fight. But because she possesses magic, she doesn’t need practicality of that sort. She can simply and literally blow her tegen away.”

He raised an instructive finger. “But only if she performs her motions the same way, every time. This is the key difference between magic and common defense, between theory and practice. You can only perform spells properly if you have perfected the six sacred motions.”

“So, it’s time to start learning those moves.” Instructor Eithne Mikellen stepped forward. “If everyone will jog with me to our first lesson?” Without waiting for a reply, the sturdy woman began a swift trot toward the arena tunnel.

“She’s joking, aye?” Calder squinted after her. Bayan clinked one of his heavy iron bracelets against Calder’s. His blond friend groaned and trotted ahead. “At least I’ll beat you,” he called, prompting Bayan to bolt after him.

~~~

Bayan staggered against Calder, his panting breath visible in the air as he waited for the exhausted students ahead of him to move into a low, broad building with gleaming green roof tiles. As the students shuffled in out of the wind, Bayan glanced at one of the metallic sint-fingers curling downward from the building’s corners. It dripped with moisture, and Bayan shivered. Calder nudged him, and together they entered the warmth of the workout room. Once inside, Bayan looked around. Low-ceilinged and paneled with dark wood, it was nevertheless lit well with large windows. Next to the doorway, two rows of benches stretched along the wall and seated a few observers. A sort of padded canvas occupied a large section in the center of the floor. Instructor Mikellen directed the trainees to warm up and stretch on the hardwood floor.

As they did so, she spoke. “You’ll report to this classroom once a day for the first score of days or so, as well as your meditation class. After that, you’ll earn the privilege of training in here twice a day. Eventually, you will be hardy enough to train three times a day, and endure three meditation sessions as well. When all of you can do that, and achieve competency in both mental focus and these sacred motions, you will be ready to test up. The instructors, myself included, must make sure you are as ready as you can be. The training of a duelist student is not a gentle process, though I assure you, in two seasons’ time when you’re spending half your life in this room, you’ll look back on today with the adoration of a schoolboy’s first crush.”

Bayan shook his head as he limbered up his left hamstring. He’d farmed rice since before his voice dropped, and it was no easy task. From what he’d seen of his classmates, few of them were of farming stock. Those who were probably farmed wheat or corn—crops that weren’t nearly as labor-intensive as rice. Bayan smirked, believing he could outwork everyone in the room and take anything the teachers handed out.

“Everyone, please step onto the pad and space yourselves evenly,” Mikellen called. “Our primary task this first day will be to learn the Elemental Invocation, which contains all six of the sacred motions. This is the move that, with time and training, will allow you access to your magic. Its partner, the Elemental Revocation, will similarly block you from using your magic, for use at the end of your duels. Historically, duelists performed the Invocation and left themselves open to their magic for seasons,
years
even. Today, it is considered polite, among fully trained duelists, to open a duel with the Invocation and close with the Revocation. A symbol, if you will, of our modern, civilized culture.