The Weapon Bearer (Book 1) (51 page)

“There are a whole lot of people taking bets on your contest today with Councilwoman Mary. How shall I bet?” He looked up at Leroy who smiled back, “I know. I’ve heard it’s bad luck to bet against a friend, so I thought I would ask if you can win again?”

“I will do my best,” Kilen replied as he checked his chaingers.

Joahna spoke even though he wasn’t supposed to,
I can win. Of course you will have to allow me to fight as an elemental, and to honor your agreement with Twilix. Brent will have to be present.

Kilen turned red in the face still, angry at Joahna, and the mention of the agreement that Kilen nearly violated. He grew madder still that Joahna suggested breaking it again. Of course he was also breaking Kilen’s rule to keep silent. To make matters worse, Kilen couldn’t respond until he was away from Leroy or anyone else. He then noticed that Leroy was watching him very closely, and cleared his throat. He had no idea what to say so he started putting on his boots. “Sorry, I was thinking about something else,” was all he could say. Then he remembered Izabel and how he had told Leroy to visit her. “Leroy, I have to ask you a favor.”

“You know I am your man. I will do whatever you ask of me, well at least if it doesn’t harm the Water Realm.”

Kilen nodded, “I need you to stay away from Izabel and her herb shop. I cannot tell you why right now, you will just have to trust me.”

“Well, ok but the meals will not improve your stamina without fresh herbs. Can you give me a hint why it is I have to stay away?” Kilen shook his head as he finished lacing his boots.

“I am sorry, I cannot tell you right now. I will when the time is right.” Kilen rose and made for the door, “I need you to do one more thing. Use half of the gold in my wardrobe to place bets for me to win. We will split the earnings down the middle.” Leroy smiled and nodded back, then scrambled into the wardrobe to start splitting the gold for the bets he was going to make. In the hallway Kilen noticed that every door was wide open. He walked towards the exit and looked in each room as he passed. They were all vacant of any personal items. Then he remembered that the army and weapon bearers had all returned to their stations scattered in the Earth and Water Realms. In the front of the barracks he saw Ted’s door part way open and saw a lamp light from inside. He rapped with his knuckle on the door and Ted popped his bald head out of the door.

“Kilen sir, how may I help you this fine day?”

“I was just wondering if all the rest of the weapon bearers have gone?”

“Most have sir, but the ones that remain all live in the guard’s quarters near the front gate. I see that you found a chainger, does it work well?”

“It works well enough. So you’re telling me that I’m the only person left in this building?”

“Sir…you’re the only one left in any one of the wielder buildings on this side of the training grounds. Of course there’s the wizards quarters a few buildings down, and those are filled now.” Kilen wasn’t sure he liked being the only one in the building. “Ted, would it be ok if my servant Leroy used one of the rooms adjacent to mine?”

“Absolutely sir, that will be no problem at all. Is there anything else I can do for you this morning?”

“No, that is all. Wait, has anyone asked about me or stopped to see me?”

“No sir, well the other wielders asked who you were. I told them you are a second generation here for training, but besides that no one else.” Kilen took another gold crown from his pocket and handed it to Ted.

“Thanks for your help, Ted. Have a good day, and if I were you I would bet that on the resident of this barracks.”

“Sir! You’re a longshot. I mean…no one has beaten her twice in a row except Wizard Twilix.”

Kilen looked over his shoulder at Ted as he stood in the doorway, “Who do you think is training me?” Ted smiled and flipped the crown into the air, catching it with a greedy gleam in his eye.

Once outside of earshot he looked around as he crossed the wizard training grounds. When he felt it was safe he spoke to the men in his head. “Joahna, you had better not mess this up. I am giving you one chance to prove yourself and only if Brent tells me I can summon an elemental. Here are my conditions. Do not show off. You will not hurt Mary. I will fight Mary and you will fight any elemental that she summons. I must learn to fight these battles on my own. Are we in agreement?”

It will be as you say. Kilen, I am sorry for what I did. I only wanted her to see that you were ready to…
Kilen cut him off as he spoke.

“I don’t want to hear your excuses. I still have a desire to be angry with you. You do not decide what the best path for me is. I will decide what choices I make, without you influencing my emotions.” Joahna felt small in the back of his mind, so he said nothing else as he made his way to the sword arenas. Max had stayed neutral in the matters but Kilen wondered how neutral he really was. He laughed, and thought “if they were even real.”

Gortus was kneeling in the same spot he had every day. They prayed and resumed the training. Kilen stood in the center of the ring attempting to defend himself from the onslaught of attacks from Gortus. Each unblocked strike met unhealed bruises, sending dull pains throughout Kilen’s limbs. Kilen would block a couple of attacks here or there, but it was always met with another attack that Kilen hadn’t anticipated. The attacks seemed random at times, but just when he thought he saw a pattern, it would change and end up with him waking to cold water being ladled onto his face. Recruits were gathering around other arenas to learn from spoken words given by their instructors. All of which would look over their shoulders to watch Kilen get pummeled by the wooden sword Gortus swung. A tall lanky boy a couple of years older than Kilen shouted to him after one such set of attacks. “I told you not to cross that arena. Look where it got you!” Gortus turned on him, leaving Kilen in the ring of stones and blood stained dirt. He went straight to the instructor in charge of the ring who bowed deeply to him as he entered the ring.

“I wish to borrow one of your students,” he said pointing a wood sword at the lanky boy. He turned a shade whiter as the other recruits stepped away from him. It was if they thought they would attract the attention of the savage Kapal by standing next to him.

“Of course you can use him, Lord Gortus.” On his word Gortus grabbed the man by the back of his shirt and pulled him to the bloodied arena. The instructor and recruits all followed and lined the outside of the arena.

Gortus stood in front of him inches from his face, “You want to laugh at my student? You want to tell him where he should be or what he should do? Perhaps you know the sword better than him. Well, I want to find out.” Gortus circled around the man, as he spoke directly into his ear. The man looked at Kilen from just inside the arena. “You will attack him. Don’t worry, he will not move from the spot his is in. It should be easy with someone as skilled in the blade as yourself.” His pointed teeth smiled wickedly, “You had better show your skill or I will personally train you in this arena from now on.” Kilen didn’t think the man could get any whiter than he already was. He was sure that his own image wasn’t helping matters any. Kilen felt blood drying on the side of his head from one of Gortus’ successful attacks. Gortus stood close to the battle so Kilen could not use his magic strength. The man attacked furiously, but the swings were wide and slower than Gortus’s own. Kilen deflected them with only a small amount of effort. The man tried to use his strength attacking from overhead and met his sword with Kilen’s three times in a row, trying to beat Kilen’s down. Kilen was surprised that he was holding up so well against the taller larger man. The man was now red in the face instead of white. He was becoming desperate. Kilen knew that he would receive worse punishment if he let the man attack him successfully. The fight went on for close to an hour, until the man’s attacks were weak and sloppy. Kilen had stood in the same spot and had not received a single blow to his body for the entire fight.

Gortus stood before the wavering man still holding his sword, “Tell everyone that if they even look at my arena again, they will suffer my training as this boy does. You are lucky that I have him to train today and the next.” The man began backing up and tripped over one of the rocks lining the blood ring. He very quickly put the rock back in its place and scrambled as quickly as he could to his old sword arena. Their instructor ushered them away from the arena. Kilen heard the man warning the others not to even look in their direction.

Once again Gortus stood in front of Kilen, ready to resume training, “Congratulations. You are faster at learning the sword than that recruit. Keep up the effort and you will see the skill gap increase in size. Defense is what I teach you at the moment, and you have learned it fairly quickly for a human. Only Kapal learn it faster, but our lives depend on it.”

“I haven’t learned it well at all. I cannot defend from your attacks more than three strokes at a time.”

Gortus smiled a tiny smile, “I am a master swordsmen. Do not compare me to every man on the battlefield. Defend against me three strokes and stand toe to toe with a soldier. Survive an attack from a veteran and impress a king. You are young and over the next few weeks we will make you a blademaster. Now bring up your stick.” Kilen did as commanded. Gortus had struck a chord in Kilen’s heart. He had defended with little effort against a peer in training. He was truly getting better, besides the lack of his own confidence. Kilen raised his sword and took an aggressive stance just as Sergeant Wells had shown him. Warm feelings of confidence ran down his body, inspiring him to prove himself. The earth magic’s determination to be a great swordsman now burned in his veins like a white hot fire and Kilen let it run free. Then he realized that the feelings couldn’t be from the magic because Gortus was near. They were his own. Gortus attacked and Kilen defended. Soon there was sweat dripping down Kilen’s brow, washing the blood from his face but staining his linen shirt collar. Gortus lowered his sword and looked at the sun in the sky, shielding his eyes with his hand.

“You had better run along to the kitchen. Leroy should have been here by now. Perhaps he is waiting for you to come to him today.”

Kilen nodded and put his wood practice sword back in the rack Gortus refilled each day. He started to the kitchen then stopped remembering the manners his mother taught him, “Thank you.” Gortus seemed not to notice or if he did he didn’t respond. Kilen continued on towards the kitchen. Each step seemed to be a little more difficult for him to keep moving. He had let his desire take root deeply and now the magic was adding to it. He wanted to return to Gortus and train the sword till he dropped of exhaustion. Kilen set his jaw and moved on, practicing the attacks in his mind.

I will help,
Max said. He started putting images of men attacking him into the forefront of his mind. Kilen assumed it was from Max’s past. The pull of the magic lessened as he fought an imaginary sword battle in his mind. When Kilen arrived at the kitchen’s back door he saw no sign of Leroy. Master Harvel was working the oven that Kilen had first built. Kilen wandered over and waited for the skinny man to stop chucking wood on the fire.

“Have you see Leroy, Master Harvel?” He jumped a bit, not noticing Kilen’s approach to the oven.

“Yes, yes he is serving his food to the king, as requested. Apparently the King has a new champion in training and has requested Leroy serve him as well. I tell you the boy’s discovery of long lost Kapal recipes will soon be more popular than betting on your match today.”

“Oh, well I guess I will have to find something else to eat then.”

“Well, excuse my manners. He left you this pot of stew to eat. He said it would help with your fight today and he told me to tell you if you want there are some tarts back in the room if you’re still hungry.” Kilen wondered about the message of the tarts, he hadn’t eaten them to cool his mouth in days.

“Tell me Master Harvel did you bet for me or against?” The skinny man ran a hand through what was left of his greasy hair.

“I’d rather not say…bad luck and all. I mean, I wouldn’t want you to lose just to make me a coin or two, and I couldn’t live with myself if you died trying to win me a coin.”

Kilen smiled and patted the cook on the shoulder, “Yeah, I suppose you couldn’t live with yourself, could you?” Kilen lifted the lid on the stew pot and started dishing up a bowl as Master Harvel watched out of the corner of his eye. He ate his meal and thought he must be getting use to the Kapal flavors as this dish lacked in the bite it usually had. He had a bowl and thought he had better not fight Mary on a full stomach. Kilen left the kitchen to return to his room to prepare for the fight. When he walked in Ted stood from his chair in the entryway.

“Kilen sir, Leroy was here a small time ago. He said that dinner is in the basket in your room. He said I should lay out some water so I did.”

Kilen turned for his room and wondered why Leroy would make two meals and not tell him. He went into his room and on the writing desk was a sack with a note pinned to it containing tarts and dried meat strips of meat. Kilen pulled the note and read it.

Harvel has been acting strange since I mentioned the bets being placed. I think he may try and change my recipe if he gets a chance. I think he’s betting that you will lose. Inside the bag are some meat slices I have been preparing for you, for when you get assigned somewhere in the realm. It is good for traveling and in a tight spot. It is a bit potent though so I packed a few tarts for you to cool things off. Good luck today. I will be there waiting to collect our winnings.