The Talented (32 page)

“
I want you to talk to
Malokai,” Ben told Adrienne. It had been two weeks since the M’bai
man had arrived in Kessering to begin his training, and Adrienne
did not think he had left the inn at all during that time except to
train with Ben.

Adrienne motioned for Ben
to come in and sit down, more amused than upset that his greeting
would be a demand. She rarely met with Ben anymore. Her Talent had
progressed significantly, and her abilities with fire were so
different from his Talent for memorizing that they hardly seemed
related at all. The two of them sometimes discussed theory, and Ben
occasionally tried to start a friendly conversation by asking her
how training the guards was going, but it was painfully obvious
that the only real connection they had was that the commission
insisted her training continue.

When they did meet, it was
awkward and uncomfortable for both of them, and the meetings didn’t
last long. They had too little common ground, and too much that
they could not say to each other. Adrienne often thought, during
those awkward meetings, of bringing up the studying that she was
doing, but something always held her back. At first she had not
understood her reluctance, and had thought it was perhaps a small
rebellion to counteract the tight leash the commission had on
her.

She knew it was more than
that now. The more she read, the more she learned about what had
started the initial conflict between Samaro and Almet. The exact
circumstances were still unclear, but she had determined that there
had been trouble with the slaves in Almet, and perhaps a fear of
slaves had been growing in Samaro as well, though she could not
imagine why slaves would be feared.

And there was the nagging
question of who and what the Dark Mage was. He had power, perhaps
the horrible power of necromancy, and it was that more than
anything that kept her from mentioning any of the history of the
conflict to Ben. If he took that information to the commission,
would they think that the Talented and their powers might be
related to something like the Dark Mage and shut the program down?
She wouldn’t risk that.

“
What do you want me to
talk to him about?” Adrienne asked.

“
Malokai seems
disinterested when it comes to learning,” Ben said. “He may do what
he’s told, but he lacks your…enthusiasm for the
process.”

Adrienne remembered her
“enthusiasm” as having been a problem for the commission, but
apparently the commission found a driven soldier better than an
indifferent one. Or perhaps they just wanted Malokai to be more
like her in general. Better someone they understood, or thought
they understood, than an M’bai savage.

She thought it was ironic
that after everything that had happened the commission would ask
her to be an influence on someone else. “I don’t know what I can do
about that,” Adrienne told Ben.

“
The rest of the commission
thinks that you can relate to him better than we can,” Ben told
her. He sat back in his chair, crossed his ankles, and stared down
at his folded hands. “We’re hoping the two of you will be able to
find common ground. He doesn’t seem to care for books and
knowledge.” Ben looked up at her again, his dark eyes
displeased.

The critical tone she
heard in his voice, the tone that implied that the M’bai warrior
was stupid, nearly made her laugh. Although she had hardly spoken
to Malokai since the first day they had met, she had sensed an
intelligence in him that would probably surprise the young scholar.
It was more likely that Ben, young and interested in little outside
of the library, was what Malokai did not care for. “He wouldn’t
have been brought here if he wasn’t smart,” Adrienne pointed
out.

Ben shrugged his thin
shoulders. “Who knows how the M’bai measure
intelligence?”

If this was the opinion
Ben was expressing to the warrior, Adrienne could understand why
Malokai wasn’t being overly cooperative when it came to his
training. “I’ll talk to him,” she agreed. Perhaps she would be able
to learn more about Malokai—and the M’bai people—if she approached
him instead of waiting for him to come to her. It would give her
something else to do other than train and puzzle over her books.
Perhaps talking with someone who was not from Samaro—not
really—would give her a new perspective.

Ben smiled and stood to
leave. “I will check in tomorrow to see how it goes.”

“
Tomorrow?” Adrienne asked,
catching his arm to hold him in place a moment longer. “I’ll need
at least a few days to broach the subject.”

“
Why?”

Adrienne released him and
pinched the bridge of her nose, wondering how someone so smart
could be so completely lacking in people skills and common sense.
“I can’t just walk up to him and tell him to try harder,” she
explained. “We need to build some sort of rapport
first.”

“
Elder Rynn isn’t going to
like this,” Ben said. “He’s disappointed in how the commission’s
work is progressing, and told me to take care of it.” For the first
time Adrienne could remember, it seemed that Ben had a problem with
how the commission was going about its work.

Adrienne just shook her
head. The commission did little more than sit around and talk all
day, and discussion alone rarely accomplished anything in
Adrienne’s experience. It wasn’t surprising that Elder Rynn
wouldn’t be happy with their progress when there wasn’t any, and
wasn’t likely to be any. Ben changing Malokai’s attitude about
training would not solve the underlying problem. “I will speak with
Malokai over the next few days,” she said again. “That’s the best I
can do.”

“
Good. Perhaps a positive
result with Malokai will improve Elder Rynn’s outlook on the
project.”

“
Perhaps.” Adrienne
wondered if the king knew that his commission showed no real signs
of assembling a useful force against Almet. Aside from Adrienne,
none of the Talents could be used in battle, and although
Adrienne’s Talent could be useful, they had made no move to begin
training her on using it for that purpose. Then again, from what
she had heard of King Burin, he probably didn’t have the stomach to
order a battle that could result in active war between Almet and
Samaro. If the conflict turned to war, Burin would have to take a
real role.

Ben turned to leave; then
turned back and offered Adrienne a weak smile. “Has your ability
progressed?” he asked, as though only just remembering that he was
supposed to be her instructor, not a commissioner asking her for
help in gaining the cooperation of one of his other
trainees.

Adrienne held out her hand
and a ball of flame appeared two inches above her palm, flickering
weakly before dying. Ben’s face fell, then lit again as Adrienne
flung her hand out and had flame erupting in what had been a cold
fireplace.

“
I’ve given up on
fireballs,” she admitted. “But lighting fire…that I can
do.”

“
Are you sure you can’t
throw fire?” Ben asked. “That would be useful in…That’s what the
commission is hoping you can do.”

“
I’ve tried, but there was
no progress. However…” She pulled her sword from its sheath and
held it out. With little more than a thought she sent fire racing
up and down the blade. It was not the fury of flame that had
engulfed the sword in battle. It was gentler, and left as quickly
as it had come. “I think this will accomplish something similar to
what the commission was hoping for.”

Ben shuddered but nodded.
“Yes, that seems like it would be an effective weapon. Perhaps
without the distance of fireballs, but…Yes, it should
do.”

“
I’ll keep working on it,”
Adrienne said. “There might still be better ways to use
it.”

“
That’s good.” Ben looked
around her small room awkwardly. “I have things I need to get done
today,” he said, the hunch of his shoulders becoming even more
pronounced as he drew in on himself.

Adrienne reached up and
touched the leather cord of her necklace idly. She wished once
again that things could have been different between them, that they
had been able to develop some sort of friendship. “I understand,”
she said. “I’ll see you soon for more training.”

“
Yes.” Ben looked relieved
as he left, and Adrienne sank down onto her bed to think about how
she would approach Malokai the next day, forgetting for the moment
the book she had been reading.

••••••

When Adrienne went
downstairs for breakfast the next morning, she saw Malokai sitting
alone at one of the tables. She had expected as much.

Like her, Malokai got up
with the sun. And being M’bai, an even more dangerous version of a
soldier in the eyes of the inn’s patrons, there was no one who
would dare eat with him, even if they were awake so early in the
day. All of which worked in Adrienne’s favor.

“
What do you think of
Kessering?” Adrienne asked as she sat at Malokai’s table. He was
eating a bowl of lumpy porridge and a piece of bread with a stingy
amount of butter. Adrienne was happy she had made friends with the
cook, earning her more butter and lump-free gruel sweetened with
honey. Good food made the time in Kessering more
bearable.

“
It’s big,” Malokai said,
barely glancing up from his bowl.

Adrienne was surprised by
his opinion of Kessering. As far as cities went, Kessering was not
much larger than a decent-sized town. It was far richer than its
size indicated due to the abundance of artisans, but most of the
goods were traded outside of the city. Kyrog was home to nearly as
many people, if the craftsmen, families, and women who flocked
around soldiers were included. “Not so big,” she said. “Your cities
must be smaller up in the mountains than those here.”

“
There are no cities in the
Modabi Mountains,” Malokai said, eating another spoonful of
porridge. Adrienne had heard that the M’bai were heathens and
savages, but she didn’t believe they were so uncivilized that they
really lived in caves like animals as some stories suggested.
Malokai seemed too comfortable indoors for that to be
true.

“
Surely there must be
some,” Adrienne said.

Malokai shook his head.
“Cities are for lowlanders,” he told her. “Tribes live in small
villages, not cities. There is no flat land in the mountains for
cities, and cities are vulnerable. Weak. Men huddled behind walls
like children.”

Adrienne wasn’t sure what
to do with that information, so she let it go and moved on to
another topic. “Don’t let the fact that the townspeople avoid you
bother you,” she advised. “Just about everyone here is afraid of
soldiers. Or people they view as soldiers,” she added, remembering
that he was opposed to that term. She recalled clearly him telling
her that he was an M’bai warrior, not a soldier.

Malokai finished his piece
of bread, chewing and swallowing completely before answering. “I’m
not concerned with what they think.”

Out of sight under the
table, Adrienne rapped her fingers on her thigh in a staccato
rhythm. He wasn’t answering in monosyllables as he had with the
commission, but it was hardly a conversation that could lead to
sharing confidences and her giving him advice. “Good,” she said,
irritated. “If you’d like, I can introduce you to some people
today. Other people with Talents.”

She thought she saw a
glimmer of interest in his intense blue eyes before he banked it.
“What of the guards?”

Adrienne nearly smiled.
Malokai must have been paying attention to her whereabouts to know
that she spent most of her days training the city guards. “They can
do without me for the morning.”

Malokai nodded. “I will
meet these people you speak of,” he said. “This must be what Master
Ruthford asked you to do.”

Adrienne flushed with
embarrassment. She hadn’t meant for him to know that she was
talking to him because Ben had asked. “My introducing you to other
Talented has nothing to do with Ben,” she said, which was at least
partly true. Ben had never mentioned introducing Malokai to other
Talented. In truth, Adrienne suspected the commission wouldn’t be
pleased when they found out what she had done, but she was past the
point of caring what they thought. If they ever got the nerve to
punish her, she would accept whatever punishment they deemed fit.
Perhaps they would decide to send her home. To Kyrog. Day by day
she realized that was a punishment she would gladly
accept.

“
We can leave whenever
you’re ready,” Malokai said, gesturing to Adrienne’s half-full
bowl.

Adrienne took her time
finishing her porridge. There was no reason to let Malokai know how
unsettled she was by him, no reason to rush to suit his mood. He
acted as though nothing anyone said or did had any emotional
effect, and she wouldn’t let him see that their interaction had
disturbed her in the least.

When they got to
Louella’s, the diminutive healer was nowhere to be seen. “Louella?”
Adrienne called.

“
I’ll be out in a minute!”
Louella’s voice sounded distant, and Adrienne thought she must be
in the back storage room. “I’m mixing up a salve for Master Tyrn.
His joints ache.”

“
Take your time,” Adrienne
said, crossing her arms and leaning up against the counter that
housed some of Louella’s herbs and healing supplies.